Dorian set his glass down. "Mrs. Naomi Bennett Heathcliffe now has legal representation regarding anything arising from your use of her name, image or identity. For this particular issue, I’ll be handling it personally."
Camille laughed. "Dorian, you’re a criminal lawyer. And now you’re what? An influencer attorney?"
"I’m a lawyer who knows how to read a statute."
Her smile disappeared another fraction.
"Now, let me make something very clear because I don’t intend to repeat myself. You are free to discuss your divorce from me. You are even free to tell your followers whatever ridiculous version of our marriage makes them continue buying whatever you’re currently being paid to sell. But Naomi is different."
"If you publish false factual claims about her, I will treat them as exactly what they are. Potentially defamatory. If you claim she tricked me into marriage, married me for money, committed some kind of fraud or did anything else you cannot prove, we will have a very different conversation. And if you use her name, photograph, likeness or identity in sponsored posts, advertising, promotional material or any other commercial content without her written consent, I will pursue every remedy available to her."
Her mouth dropped open slightly. "You cannot do that."
"Camille, please don’t use that phrase. It embarrasses both of us. I will send formal cease-and-desist notices. I will preserve every post, story, live stream, caption and sponsored mention you make. I will notify your brand partners when their campaigns are tied to potentially unlawful use of her identity."
Camille sat straighter. "You wouldn’t."
"I absolutely would."
"You would interfere with my contracts?"
"I would notify the relevant parties of a legal dispute involving content attached to their brand. What they decide to do with that information would be their business."
Camille’s eyes narrowed. He took another sip of wine.
"If the facts support an injunction, I’ll ask a court for one. And if Naomi suffers provable financial damage because of something unlawful you publish, I’ll pursue that as well. If your conduct is knowing enough to justify exemplary damages, I’ll ask for those too." He tilted his head. "Do you want to test how expensive this can become?"
She looked genuinely stunned now.
Naomi had not asked for any of this. She had been an unknown chef with a tiny social media following until she made the unfortunate decision to scream at him outside a courthouse.
Everything after that was his circus.
"So this is what tonight is about? You invited me to dinner to threaten me? You are such an asshole."
"So I’ve been told, countless times by you. Leave Naomi alone."
Camille stared at him for several seconds. Then understanding slowly entered her expression. "Oh my God. She is making you do this!"
"Don’t make this conversation stupid."
"I don’t care what you say. I can do whatever I want. I have my own lawyer too."
"You mean the one you used during the divorce?" Dorian pushed his chair back. "I advise you to get another one, and darling, be damned sure they are better than Dorian Heathcliffe." He got to his feet.
Camille stared up at him. There it was. That unbearable arrogance she found attractive. The absolute conviction that if someone decided to go to war with him, they had better come armed properly.
"The wine is on you," he added, buttoning his jacket. "Consider it payment for the distress you caused my wife."
Before she could respond, he turned and walked away from the table.
"Dorian. Dorian!"
He left the restaurant without looking back. Camille sat frozen for several seconds. Then she slowly looked at the bottle of Château Margaux sitting on the table.
Her eyes narrowed. That bastard had actually left her with the bill. But even that wasn’t what bothered her.
What the hell was happening? Dorian had been married three times. She knew him. Dorian did not protect anyone like that unless he was being paid to do it.
He had defended Naomi as if Camille had personally insulted someone precious to him. He was even willing to use the firm’s resources against her.
Camille frowned.
No.
Something was wrong. No way was she going to accept this. Not in a million years. Who exactly is Naomi Bennett?
*****
Naomi was ready. Well, as ready as she could possibly be considering one side of her face looked like she had lost a fight with a gorilla.
Tessa had done her best. Naomi had eventually added a pair of oversized glasses, even though she was standing alone inside her apartment and it was already late.
She looked ridiculous. She knew she looked ridiculous. She dropped onto the couch and picked up her phone.
Naomi sighed and opened Instagram. Her newest follower notification still sat there. She had already looked at it three times. She tapped the profile again.
Dorian Heathcliffe.
The man had followed her.
Why?
His profile was almost completely empty.
No posts.
Apparently, Dorian Heathcliffe used Instagram primarily for stalking. There were tagged photographs, though.
A lot of them. She opened the tagged section. There he was at charity events. Court-related functions.
Some expensive-looking yacht. He appeared beside friends. Lots of women. She frowned. Sometimes it was a whole group.
Sometimes two women. She continued scrolling. There were several photographs with his ex-wife.
The Instagram one. God, that woman took a lot of pictures. Naomi clicked through a few tagged posts.
Dorian looked exactly the same in almost every one. Usually standing there as though someone had kidnapped him and forced him to participate in social media at gunpoint.
She reached the newest tag and stared at the picture. He was wearing the same suit she had seen him in earlier.
Camille looked stunning. Dorian looked like Dorian. Naomi’s eyes moved to the caption.
Dinner date with the ex. Are you all thinking what I am thinking?
So that was where he was while he kept her waiting. She lowered the phone. Why was she even waiting?
Right.
To sign the stupid contract. That was all. Nothing remotely close to an actual marriage. She looked at the photograph again.
Ugh.
The man was such a slut. She scrolled farther through the tagged pictures and rolled her eyes.
Men.
Always the same. They wanted one woman until they saw another one. Then apparently another one after that.
She thought about his marriages. Maybe he had conveniently left out certain details when telling her why they ended.
Of course he had said his first wife slept with his uncle.
Fair enough.
Wife number two apparently found him unbearable.
Also believable.
Extremely believable.
And Camille was supposedly a psychotic snake. According to Dorian. Interesting how he was the innocent party in every divorce story.
She tossed the phone beside her. "Whatever."