So, you ready?
I'm ready.
Big day is coming.
Jury is a mixed bag but we only need a few of them,
probably women, who either love me, impossible not to, or sympathize with you.
With what you're trying to build and accomplish.
If not your path for getting there.
What's our strategy?
This whole shebang hangs on two words,
dangerously close.
When the judge gives the jury instructions for deliberating on the crime of intent,
that's the definition she'll enforce upon them for reaching their verdict.
She's going to ask them to decide
if you were dangerously close to committing a crime.
Now, the lesser charges.
The Beekman Hotel, the plane you borrowed, we're fucked, there's too much evidence.
The only way out of that is
if the entire jury falls madly in love with you.
But Fortress, City National, and Rachel fucking Williams,
the big ones, we have a shot.
We can strongly argue
you were never dangerously close to committing any of those crimes.
So you're arguing I'm incompetent.
At being a criminal mastermind?
Yeah. That is my job.
I was building a business.
And that'll be part of my argument,
but this isn't a business school final, this is your actual freedom at stake.
So I have to prove to them that you were nowhere near
getting any of that money for your foundation. Okay?
Okay.
Any more questions?
-What am I wearing? -I don't give a fuck.
I mean, the court supplies clothes.
Simple but…
I have a brand to consider.
Also, it's different for women. Do I need to explain this to you?
-Just get me a stylist. -You're nervous.
Things feel out of your control. I get this a lot.
Best thing to do is to look humble, wear the court clothes,
let me do my song and dance
about what a young, well-meaning, little go-getter you are,
and we have a chance…
to convince these poor bastards that are stuck with jury duty
that you weren't dangerously close to ripping off Rachel or these banks.
Okay?
Danke. Code.
Uh-uh. You said two Cup Noodles for ten minutes.
Bring me 20 more minutes and I'll give you four. Now go.
And spread the word!
Yo.
Yo, yo-self.
Who's your stylist hookup who does rappers?
-Natasha. -Yeah.
Oh, you thinking trial styles…
I'm thinking like HBIC, but also like young and coquette.
Mmm-hmm. Like Lolita meets Mildred Pierce but like now.
You got the funds?
You know I got that Daddy paper.
Just because you're inside doesn't mean you can slang it up.
-Just make the connect, I'll call back. -You mean holla back?
-You okay? -Yeah, why?
You gotta send a warning text before you call a bitch.
Thought you got cancer, or pregnant or some shit.
No, I'm good,
but I've got a friend in trouble, on trial starting tomorrow.
High profile…
SoHo grifter? Yeah. I know.
You down to style her?
Hmm, so she can stiff me too? No thanks.
-That's her, I'm gonna…
Natasha, Anna. Anna--
Natasha, hi! Thank you so much for doing this.
Look, my rate's 1,200 a day just to be…
Yes! Yes. Of course.
I'll get my father to wire you the fee as soon as we start.
Cool, cool, so what's the vibe?
So, the photos from this trial are going to live forever.
They may actually define my entire identity going forward so…
So no pressure.
Okay, I gotta drop.
Okay. I got you.
Let's stay classic with a modern touch.
Profesh, with a young, bohemian edge.
Perfect. The photographers will be behind me
for most of the trial so the backs shouldn't be an afterthought.
With me? Never.
Gosh, the lighting in there.
Wicked fluorescent overheads, a strong silhouette can conquer all.
Don't worry.
I got you, Anna.
Thank you.
Here.
Vivian. How are you?
Um…
So, uh, who else is covering my trial?
How would I know? The Post, probably.
The Post, obviously, but what about The Times?
The Times? The New York Times?
Or the networks?
I don't know how national the interest is in this case.
But you could make them interested.
I'm reporting on the trial, not promoting it.
More coverage benefits you too, no?
-Anna…
Validates your reporting,
unless you're happy with it just being a local story.
-Don't you want bragging rights? -I'm hanging up now.
You know, you should also profile Rachel, show what a shady-ass scammer she is.
Goodbye, Anna.
Spodek and Associates.
Todd, now.
Uh, I'm afraid he's not in right now, Anna.
You're lying, Alexi.
Would you like to leave a message?
You know, I've met a lot of colorful characters in here.
Murderers, hitwomen,
you know, I had no idea how cheap it was to have someone killed. Did you?
Like, seriously, like the price of a knock-off Chanel bag.
Can you believe it?
Uh, would you like to leave a message?
Tell Todd to call my father.
Have him either wire ten grand to pay my stylist
or bring it when he comes for the trial.
I will let him know.
Oh. And, Alexi, don't lie next time.
There's a little bit of Anna in all of us.
Everyone lies a little bit.
We are all, every one of us, inside…
There's a little bit of Anna in all of us.
Not me.
Maybe you pad your resumé, exaggerate on your sales pitch,
toy with the filters on your social media.
-Guilty. -We all do it.
Every one of us has become a brand,
an image, a lie we project out into the world.
Ugh.
-What? -Nothing.
-Is it good? -Very.
-Then what? -Then what, what?
Validate me. Criticize me, help me, anything but withhold from me.
-She's lucky to have you. -She is, right?
Did you just double entendre me?
Have me? Do you think she owns me?
-Come on, Mags. -I just…
I want to fast forward to spring break.
I want sand in my toes and margaritas in both hands.
I want a family chicken fight in the shallow end of the heated pool,
and I want this trial behind us.
-I want that too.
Do you think that I don't want that?
Oh, fuck me.
Jury's going to love you. Knock 'em dead.
Yeah.
Yeah, no, I'm on my way.
-Baxter. -McCaw.
Who's that?
Eyes and ears. A proxy for Cy.
The DA's taken an interest.
Did I miss anything?
-Still waiting. -Where should I sit?
Team Anna is this side.
Team Rachel is that side.
Neff, honey, I'm Switzerland in all this.
-What do you mean she's not dressed? -The defendant is in prison garb.
What's the deal, Mr. Spodek?
I'm not sure what the issue is, Your Honor.
-What did Natasha say? -She texted, she dropped the clothes off.
-Why isn't she-- -Step off. Texting.
In all my years,
I've been held up at gunpoint in this courtroom,
but never over wardrobe.
If you let me go speak--
I believe the court provides clothing for those in need.
Yes. I'm aware.
Another gold star for your report card, Counselor.
The defendant won't wear them.
I'm going to sip this iced coffee, Mr. Spodek,
and when I'm finished,
if your client isn't dressed and before me,
I'm going to be wildly, deeply unhappy.
Yes, Your Honor.
And don't let the jumbo size fool you.
I drink fast.
Get dressed. We can't keep the court waiting.
-This is insane. -Those clothes are insane.
I'd rather wear my jumpsuit.
-You can't. -Why not?
Because first impressions matter to jurors.
You look way too comfortable in a prison jumpsuit.
And the judge won't allow it. It is legally not allowed.
It's a bad look in our courtroom and could lead to a mistrial.
You're making an enemy of her on day one.
Every second that we delay--
Then get me clothes I can wear.
Put the fucking clothes on. This is hurting you, Anna.
Hurting me? I'm fine.
-Tell her to wear the court clothes. -I did.
She looked at me like I asked to fuck her in the ass.
-Where are the clothes? -Rikers. She dropped them off last night.
-She have others? -I can't reach--
-Get them here. -I can't reach her.
-I think she's crashed out after-- -Wake her up.
I do not work for you.
This is so fucked.
We've got 30 minutes before this judge loses her fucking shit on me.
-You'd better get shopping. -Me?
Y'all figure it out, I got a shift.
Okay, this is… I'm in court, I can't leave to go shopping.
I can't participate in Anna's defense!
That would be unethical, crossing a line journalistically.
Well, I'm a fucking guy.
Can you tell me what pantyhose or whatever--
-Do you think pantyhose is going to be-- -What's wrong with that?
Fine!
But you will give me access to all of the discovery in this case.
Everything. Anna's phone, email, everything the prosecution has, I want.
Yes. Fuck. Whatever. Just go.
-Hi, welcome to-- -Business, sweet, modest. Now.
-They're right over there. -Show me.
Flats, black, size 7. Go!
Vivian must have thought this was a shoelace or a belt or something.
A happy accident.
But this is not a great start for our team.
I'm very underwhelmed with our preparation on day one.
We have to go!
Now!
Don't crowd my entrance.
-You good? -Mmm-hmm.
Thank you so very much for joining us, Miss Sorokin.
Officer, bring in the jury.
On October 11th, 1944,
Frank Sinatra opened the Paramount Theater in Times Square.
Women swooned at the sight of Ol' Blue Eyes.
They literally fainted.
To the public, this was the Sinatra effect,
but in reality, it was strategically created by Sinatra's press agents.
Women were paid to swoon.
And plant kisses, and throw their clothes on stage.
Ambulances and nurses were stationed outside the theater on purpose.
All because if he can make it here…
he'll make it anywhere.
Anna came to New York just like some of you did.
Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, excited by the opportunities.
A mere 25 years old.
No rich parents. No connections.
No fancy school pedigree.
Anna couldn't wait around for opportunities.
She had to create them. We can all relate to that.
There's a little bit of Anna in all of us.
Everyone lies a little bit.
Whether it's on a resumé, or a sales pitch, or on social media.
We think the world has changed with social media.
Every person has become a brand.
An image fed out into the world. A lie.
But what was true for Anna was true for Sinatra.
Sometimes you've gotta fake it till you make it.
So, Anna followed suit and became the person she wanted to be.
A person who would receive the red carpet from New York's elite.
She allowed everyone to believe the story they wanted to believe.
It wasn't a crime when Sinatra did it.
It isn't a crime now.
The people you'll hear from,
they wanted to believe that Anna was a German heiress
because it benefited them to do so.
That's what they got.
Not for one single moment did Anna have the intent of stealing any money.
Every person that walks in here
and sits in that chair wanted to give Anna money
because they wanted to be in business with her.
To be close to Anna Delvey!
The German heiress!
Would they have wanted to be in business with Anna Sorokin?
A middle class foreigner? No.
Anna had to fake it till she made it.
You may judge her for that.
Find her unethical.
Like some would find Sinatra unethical
for staging fainting women at his performances.
But it is not illegal.
And the truth is, what you need to remember most of all…
the evidence will show you that Anna was never close,
let alone dangerously close to getting these loans
or stealing from anyone who gets in that chair and tells you otherwise.
Not. One. Dollar.
Thank you.
The Sinatra defense. Bold.
One last administrative issue, Your Honor.
At a later date, we will put into evidence
the contents of the defendant's cellphone and laptop
as we anticipated communication
between the defendant and her various contacts.
I wanted to alert you that there have been technical issues
with our IT department due to a computer crash.
And, you know, the major thing is that most of our exhibits
are in a state where they would be presentable,
the only issue that persists, and we made it a high priority…
-What's she-- -I'll ask Todd.
There are two witnesses who would testify relating to those matters.
-What's wrong? -Where is everyone?
She wants to know where everyone is.
Everyone? Who's everyone?
The press?
Her public? Whatever.
Only press can take pictures in here.
-You're press, you take it then. -What's this for?
I'm gonna light this whole scene up in here. Watch me.
See those photographers, that's Daily Mail, New York Post, AP.
They publish instantaneously. You need pics, use theirs.
The people call Alan Reed.
And did you provide your services
connecting her with banks who might extend a loan?
-I did. -Did the defendant pay for these services?
No.
And even after you kept working,
billing all of these hours above an unpaid retainer
at $1,000 an hour, were you ever able to get Anna
close to getting a loan approved or transferred to her custody?
No.
Is it my client's fault you didn't handle your business correctly?
The people call Gabriel Calatrava.
-Hey. -Hi.
She gave you a driver's licence without her birthplace on it,
and a fake trust document written in German by her in Microsoft Word.
Fake address for her father's business abroad.
That's correct.
Would you say the defendant was relentless?
Stopping at nothing to get a loan from Fortress?
She was persistent, yes.
Did you keep working with her
because you were interested in her romantically?
Yeah. He did.
Do you recall flirting with Miss Sorokin?
Unfortunately.
Did you tell her you wanted to kiss her?
-Objection. -Sustained.
Yeah, you definitely did.
A courtroom is an unexpected venue for a fashion show,
but everything about Anna Delvey,
the fake German heiress on trial in Manhattan,
seems to surprise and fascinate.
Now Anna Delvey's courtroom wardrobe has its own Instagram account.
Who created the account? No one knows.
But Anna's iconic outfits are now must-have fashion,
and it's all due to a celebrity stylist.
I know this is you.
Your fingerprints are all over this hashtag.
Kacy, don't accuse me of doing something I'm damn proud of doing.
What you're doing is making it so this poor girl has to tell her sad-ass,
embarrassing story to the entire world instead of just a jury.
Anna could go to prison for 15 years,
and you're worried about Becky's 15 minutes of shame.
-Stop calling me Becky. -Okay, Karen.
When are you going to wake the fuck up and realize you're Satan's secretary?
At her beck and call 24/7.
Damn straight.
Do you have any idea what it takes for Anna to call me 24/7?
Cup Noodles. Lots and lots of 'em.
See, each inmate gets six minutes a day of phone time.
Six minutes.
An impossible amount to run a defense for a trial.
So every day she hustles, trades Cup Noodles,
instant coffee, fucking tampons,
whatever she can get her hands on through the commissary
or by making deals with some scary-ass people,
turns all that into minutes.
Fucking hours' worth every day.
That's hustle. I respect that.
When you behave in a way I can respect, drop on by my place of work and say hi.
Till then, always a pleasure, Miss Karen,
and good to see you've chosen a side, Miss Switzerland.
Anna has a very clear idea
of what she wants and how she present herself to the world.
Hopefully, the clothes I chose can reflect her power
and force in the business world and her strong sense of personal style.
Media coverage is making Anna Delvey into some kind of Rihanna.
Some hard-working fashion icon.
You're killing it in court, but Cy will see this coverage
and, from what I can tell, they only remember mistakes,
and they only reward perfection around here.
It's so unfair. We'll probably get an earful from Baxter tomorrow.
He's an irrelevant middle-man.
Cy's interest will wander to the next shiny thing after this.
I'm the one who remembers mistakes and only rewards perfection.
Baxters come and go.
If I lose a single count on this case, I'll never forget it.
The rest of my life.
So, forget Baxter
and find me the Rachel Williams grand jury testimony
I asked you about ten minutes ago.
My God.
I mean, Anna's got groupies. They're starting to troll me now.
It'll only get worse when I get up on the stand. Fuck.
I'll need to change my identity.
Can they find where I live? They know where I work.
You're scared.
-Are you a criminal? -No.
-Who is? -She is.
-Did you betray your friend's trust? -No.
Leave her high and dry at a moment of weakness?
No.
-Who did? -Anna did.
-Who should be scared right now? -Anna should.
-Who should want to hide right now? -Anna should.
Amen.
But still, what about…
Everyone's going to hate me after I testify.
Will you hate you?
Stand in your truth,
fortified by kindness, and tell your story…
you bad bitch.
Miss McCaw, I'm not getting any younger.
-The people call Rachel Deloache Williams.
D-E-L-O-A-C-H-E.
Thank you.
And welcome.
Yes, thank you.
I know this hasn't been an easy time for you.
-Where do you live, Rachel? -The West Village.
-Where did you go to college? -Kenyon College.
Why did you come to New York?
I wanted to become a writer. And to work at Vanity Fair.
-And did you? -I did.
How long did it take to obtain a position there after arriving here?
-Three months. -And could you tell us how?
I got an informational interview with a woman who worked there
and we seemed to hit it off, but I didn't hear back so…
I sent a hand-written forget-me-not note with,
like, this book of kind of dorky poems
and a box of tea asking her to keep me in mind.
I went in and interviewed the next day and started the day after.
Miss Williams, before we go down the rabbit-hole of your horrible hardship
and struggle in your attempt to be reimbursed by Miss Sorokin,
I was hoping you'd tell the court
how this experience has affected your life.
My life? Sure.
Honestly, the money, the stress she caused me with my work,
and family, as horrible as all that was,
I feel like it will all pass eventually, but--
But…
you were close with the defendant.
Yes.
Is that why you trusted her, defended her, helped her even when--
I loved Anna.
I was devoted to her.
I was supportive, I was a good friend to her.
A very good friend, you know?
So when suddenly she became this vicious person
willing to let me lose my job and possibly go to prison
for using my company card to help her in a crisis, all for her lavish lifestyle…
I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to trust anyone ever again.
To let someone into my life ever again.
Like, I hope that will change, but I can feel how different I am now.
How scared and vulnerable…
Like, everything she put me through…
all the lies and stress and betrayal, I know I can survive
but I don't know if that ability to trust will ever change.
If I'll ever be myself again. If I'll ever be able to let someone in.
To love.
Do you need a moment?
I'm so sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm okay.
I'm okay. I'm okay. Please.
Could you tell the jury why you chose to monetize this awful experience?
Enormous debt.
But also, I found that I was kind of, like, stuck in my head.
Replaying the scenes again and again.
So I thought, the only thing to do is to get it down on paper.
And it felt very important to me that I be the one to tell my story.
Don't worry, we'll get our crack at her tomorrow.
You speak Russian, right?
Some.
Da.
Mr. Sorokin, this is Todd Spodek, your daughter's lawyer.
So anyway, I'm not sure how much of the trial
you've been able to catch from Germany…
Um…
But I'm calling to see
if you've reconsidered joining us in person.
-Nyet. -He says no.
I got that.
So Vadim, the thing is, your daughter is a little distraught.
Which isn't to say we're losing, we're not,
but given the stresses of a trial like this,
especially with all this media attention--
There's really no substitute for family.
She needs her family here.
Please.
Your own daughter?
On trial in a foreign country.
I am just her lawyer, Vadim.
I can't be her father too.
I can't do this.
I can't be everything for her.
He said, "Good day."
Hey Viv, what did we miss?
Uh, not Anna's entrance, thankfully.
Missed one day of Rachel's testimony, not missing another.
-Brought you lunch… -You can't, I can update you.
Wasn't it supposed to start by now?
Half an hour ago.
-What's the holdup? -Not sure. Todd's not answering.
Well, did you try calling?
I find it far more immediate than texting.
Helicopter parenting. Never knew what that meant until now.
You've got to be kidding me. Okay.
Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the delay.
Apparently our defendant is refusing to join us
while she sorts out some ongoing wardrobe issues.
Issues? What now? She got exactly what she asked for.
It's not what she got.
But how much she got.
Guess it's my turn to make the H&M run.
-H&M run? -Her turn?
Oh, I just… it's just, I… this could take a while.
You guys should probably get back
before Paul gives your desks away to the interns.
What is wrong with the clothes, Anna?
-They're dirty. -Then wear these.
-Get me new ones. -We can't do this again.
Get me new clothes and tell the judge I'm taking the stand.
-Okay, Anna, listen-- -No! You fucked up this entire trial.
I knew, with your stupid Long Island accent
and your stupid face
that you would be a useless piece of shit lawyer!
-Anna, shut up and listen. -No, you listen!
I'm taking the stand. Tell the judge.
Tell Natasha to bring me better clothes or I'll fire you!
What is your problem?
My shitty, cheap, fucking ugly idiot lawyer is my problem!
I'm taking the stand, you incompetent ape.
You fucked up this entire defense.
If I needed the money,
I could have had married those rich asshole bankers!
I'm trying to build something
and you have completely ruined my reputation!
-Your reputation? -That's it, you're fired! Get out!
First of all, taking the stand would be legal suicide.
-Which I-- -We're done!
Oh, fuck off, go find a stalker in need.
Questions that make you look more like a greedy,
lying, sad-sack scammer with a creepy fucking accent.
But that's not why you're not taking the stand.
You're not taking the stand because that's my decision, not yours.
You're fired, you fucking low-class loser!
-But that's still not why. -You have no right!
This may be your reputation--
It's not just my reputation, asshole,
it's my life. It's my freedom!
You useless, incompetent excuse for a con artist.
I've known a shit-ton of criminals in my day
and you are below fucking average at crime, so, fuck you.
And fuck your reputation.
And fuck your fake-ass life and your freedom.
This is my reputation, my identity,
my ability to provide a life for my family you're fucking with,
and now, now I look like a fucking hack because I can't control my client.
Can't get baby dressed.
I let you take the stand
and it's the nail in your coffin and in mine.
You will get the maximum sentence and no one will ever hire me again!
As they fucking shouldn't.
You know, fuck me, fuck you!
Get out, I… my father will find me a lawyer who isn't just some old trash--
Your father? Your fucking father?
You're not stupid, so what is it?
Full-on fucking delusion
that makes you believe he's coming anywhere near here?
Do you believe your lies?
Are they for me or for you?
Must be you.
Because everyone else in your life who hasn't abandoned you yet
is way past believing them and could give a fuck!
So long as your checks don't bounce.
Even your father is done with this shitty act of yours.
That's why your clothes are dirty.
Your delusion must be on some epic level
to even imagine for one second that he would show up here,
let alone pay for a fucking fancy-ass stylist
to dress you up like a courthouse Barbie doll!
The jury loved her.
Fucking ate up every spoonful of her bullshit.
She's a no-talent want-to-be trolling for fame off my back.
And they loved her.
They couldn't take their eyes off Rachel.
But it's because she's, she's prettier than me…
more likeable.
She can fit in anywhere.
She's a better actress.
-This is not her show.
-This is our show. -And did you see?
She made them fucking cry.
This is our show. You're the star.
I'm the fucking, what do you call it?
Loser lawyer who gets fired in the first episode.
No, not that.
Costar.
The one who stands by you when no one else will.
The one who never abandons you, even when I can't stand you.
Even when you treat me like shit,
I still defend you to anyone who thinks you're an asshole and a dick.
Which you are. You're a fucking dick, Anna. A huge dick.
But you've also got balls. Big fucking rhino balls.
Yeah, I respect the fuck out of those big, swinging…
the kind you need to get shit accomplished in this town.
But those people, they don't see it.
They see a selfish dick who steals from her friends
and fucking raids fucking hotel mini-bars
like some rabid little Russian racoon all over town.
I will change that.
I will expose Rachel for the fucking hypocrite that she is,
-and serve up those big, huge… -Gross.
…on a big fucking silver platter
for everyone in the court and world to admire.
I will kill for you.
Not because you deserve it, you do,
but because I need it. Because I fucking need it.
For me.
And because I can.
I'm fucking down to fight.
But you need to stop fighting me.
I would rather go to jail forever then come off like some wannabe.
Some amateur.
Some lazy millennial just looking for a shortcut to fame and fortune.
Yeah. Some Rachel.
I want respect.
I want you to defend me out there.
I want you to defend my work, my foundation. My achievements.
My father…
everyone, everyone,
they have to know how close I was.
They have to know that I'm not a fraud.
You have my word.
Get dressed.
This is unacceptable and inappropriate.
I have had a jury here since 9:30.
You are on trial in a criminal court.
This is not a fashion show.
Who in the hell do you think you are?
I apologize, Your Honor.
Next time, the officers will
wrap you in drapes and drag you to that chair.
-You understand, Miss Sorokin? -Yes, Your Honor.
-Okay. Let's bring in the jury.
We learned a lot about your bio from your testimony.
Good upbringing, good college.
Landing your dream job three months after arriving here.
Wow.
Congratulations on your success as a writer.
-It's enviable. We should all be so lucky. -Objection.
Ask a question, Mr. Spodek.
Were you familiar with Anna before meeting her?
I saw her on social media.
So fair to say you wanted to meet her before you did.
She was interesting. Her feed was interesting to me, yes.
What was interesting about her? Or her social media feeds?
Photos of art, travel,
the editor-in-chief, I guess, at Purple Magazine.
So similar careers attracted you?
Both working in fashion magazines. Anna maybe had a leg up but--
Yes.
And when you did become friends with Anna, did you ever pay for a drink?
-She wouldn't let me-- -Answer the question.
Not that I recall.
Any of the dozens of dinners at Le Coucou and other fine dining establishments?
-Not that I recall. -Spa treatments? Facials?
Infrared saunas? Massages, nail salons?
-No. Anna was very generous. -Celebrity personal training sessions?
-No. -You never paid for any of them?
And how many of these various luxuries
did Anna buy for you over the two years you hung out together?
-Like what? -Start with dinners and go from there.
How many?
-I don't recall. -You didn't write them down?
-No. -How will you remember them for your book?
-Objection, Your Honor. -Sustained.
Did you cooperate with the NYPD,
with a detective to aid in the arrest of your friend, Anna Sorokin?
Yes. It was the only way--
Why didn't you mention that in your account in Vanity Fair?
I didn't have enough space.
But of all the details.
You wrote about hitting the town together
and nice little bonding moments you had with Anna with beautiful detail.
You didn't think the dramatic event of setting up a sting operation
to arrest Anna was worthy of space in your article?
I didn't have enough space.
Mmm.
How much are you being paid
to write a book about your experience with Anna?
I don't know. I don't really understand how contracts--
I'm an attorney, so let me help you out.
It says here you get 300 grand spread out over four payments. Sound about right?
Yes.
And your TV deal, do you know how much you're getting for that?
-Or do you need help explaining it? -I think it's around… 30,000.
For the option. And then another $300,000 if the show gets made. Correct?
-Correct. -So in total, $630,000.
Plus the 1,200 you got from Vanity Fair for writing the article. Correct?
I don't want my testimony to be misconstrued or seen
as a ploy for my own benefit because it's not.
It's not about entertainment, it's about law and order and a crime!
For you it is about entertainment, right?
This is about trauma, the judicial system in America, warning others so…
This is not about entertainment,
this is the most traumatic thing that I have ever been through.
I understand all that.
But this traumatic experience that you went through,
you sold to three separate people. Right?
I worked very hard.
Answer the question.
Yes, I did sell to three separate people, but I worked very hard.
And when you say you worked very hard,
you worked very hard on befriending Miss Sorokin,
by benefitting from her connections,
her extreme generosity,
and after one thing that doesn't go your way, one mishap,
you worked very hard on cooperating with the police to have Anna arrested.
You worked very hard on luring her out of her rehab center in Malibu,
pretending to be meeting her for lunch.
You worked very hard on your dream of becoming a writer
by finding a character and creating as juicy a story--
-Objection. -Overruled.
No. This is…
And you worked very hard on selling that story
of your experience with Anna to the highest bidders, right?
This is not…
I wish I'd never met Anna.
I wouldn't wish this on anybody.
This is the worst thing that's ever happened to me.
Two years after arriving to this city to make it as a writer,
you've published an article in Vanity Fair.
You have over $600,000 in book and TV deals coming your way.
All because you found and befriended and turned Anna in to the police.
If this is the worst thing that happened to you,
-we should all be so lucky. -Objection.
Withdrawn. No further questions, Your Honor.
You dropped a dime on Anna?
Worked with the cops? Set her up? Lured her out of rehab?
Look, I can explain.
-I know you're probably angry-- -This is shock.
You'll know when I'm angry.
I had to cooperate with the police. It was the only way to get reimbursed.
Why hide it?
I was ashamed.
I felt used.
By the police, by the prosecutor--
I feel used.
By you.
Thinking you're some kind of victim in all this. Taking care of you.
I am a victim in all of this.
At least you'll get to cry into all that money.
Looks like you'll have plenty left over, even after you pay Amex that 60K you owe.
Unless someone already paid that back for you.
Do not withhold from me in this moment or--
Amex took care of it. They saw how crazy this situation was and they--
So you made out just fine from dropping a dime on your friend!
-Is that… -Yeah.
-Are you going to-- -No.
Okay.
-But what if it's-- -Lines. Boundaries.
Cheers to… your excellent cross of Rachel today.
Could help with one charge, but the other nine…
Oh, Catherine's like this unstoppable fact robot,
shoveling her evidence down their captive throats
until they're so fucking full there's no room for any of mine.
So we shift strategy.
Yeah, well, my best strategy
that she was never dangerously close to getting any of that money.
I can't fucking use because my client
would rather rot in jail than allow strangers
to think she's bad at business.
-Who says you have to listen to her? -Ethics. Decency.
Whatever it takes, right?
Come on. You did great today. You got this!
How drunk are you?
I'm excited. We could win this puppy.
Anna could be sitting right there, on that stool, in a week's time.
Anna would never be caught dead in this place.
We should go home.
Probably should.
Oh.
Boundaries. Boundaries, Vivian.
-Yes, I accept.
What's up, Anna?
You got a thing I don't know about?
I thought you were asleep.
I was.
I keep thinking I'm hearing her cry.
Then I wake up and it's like ghost cries or something.
Do you hear those too?
What happened to all of my dresses?
Fashion police raided the place this afternoon.
I should have told you.
I have to get clothes to Rikers by 11:00 or they won't be there
when they take her in the morning, and it'll be another fiasco.
Her? See, when I say "her," I mean our daughter. When you say "her--"
It's just clothes, I'm just helping.
Ah, there you are!
If I showed a video of you to college you right now,
she would freak the fuck out.
It's just a dress, Jack. Why does this bother you so much?
It's bothering me that it's not bothering you.
Of course it's bothering me. I hate thinking about clothes.
I hate being away from my daughter and going to Rikers.
Then why?
Because I created this monster.
Now the eyes of the world are on her. She has no one.
There are plenty of good reasons why she has no one.
I need to get this to Rikers, so…
How can you even say this to me?
For months, you have known about this vacation!
It's my fault this trial is dragging on?
-Nothing is your fault. How could it be? -I can't just abandon my client!
Handing off to co-counsel is not abandonment.
You haven't been there, not once, to support me.
You have no idea, with a shit-ton of media attention, I can't just give up--
-Now we know what this is really about. -What?
You wanna be there for the press conference,
so half a dozen of your law school classmates
can see your face on New York 1. Pathetic.
-I could give a fuck-- -If this was a death row case, sure!
Take all the time you need, but your entire ego is riding
on this spoiled little thief who is, let us face it, guilty as all get-out!
If she is a killer, she wouldn't need me,
but she's not. She's a kid.
An immigrant kid, who came to this country for the American dream--
Please don't wrap the flag around this psycho.
I am all she has!
You were raised on Mount fucking Olympus.
You could never understand what that's like.
Please… explain it to me.
-Get it, go on. -No.
Go tell Anna how great she looked in court today.
You act like I'm fucking this chick. She's a client!
I wish you were, because it would help explain to me
why you suddenly think it is okay
to completely ruin our only vacation in two years.
-I have boundaries. -She'll call again.
Hello.
Oh. Hi. Brian, right? Is your dad there?
He's fighting with my mom.
I can wait. But not very long. I'm in jail.
What did you do?
Nothing, I just borrowed some money.
And a jet.
Can I borrow some money?
Your dad has all my money.
He won't give me any.
I doubt that.
He's a nice guy.
And he loves you very much.
But he's making my mom sad.
You can probably blame me for that.
But you can also use that to get what you want.
I can?
Sure. People give people money for all sorts of reasons.
Guilt and love are two of the biggest.
And you've got both. You should ask for the moon.
I'll go get my dad.
No, don't. Let them fight.
But I don't like it. It's loud.
It's better than silence.
Well, uh… Brian, my time is up.
Bye.
When Detective McCaffrey went to look for Anna in court, was she there?
No.
Did she stay to fight her charges?
No.
She went to California because she knew there was no defense to these charges.
She knew that she was guilty of these charges.
That shows plainly that the defendant…
White for the closing arguments? Genius.
…committing crimes.
When you go back to the jury room to deliberate,
I urge you to come to the only verdict
that is in accord with the law and the evidence.
And that is that the defendant is guilty
beyond a reasonable doubt of all ten counts.
Thank you.
Mr. Spodek?
Todd.
Remember how I told you I'd kill for you?
What?
Just… trust your costar.
Okay?
You've heard a lot of evidence from a lot of witnesses in this trial,
but have you noticed one thing throughout?
Every witness who came before you in this trial was embarrassed.
They didn't want to tell you the full truth.
Every witness blamed someone else for their mistakes.
Everyone had a story.
Because every one of them, all highly paid,
well-educated, experienced businessmen,
every one of them was fooled by a 25-year-old kid
with no college degree, no credentials,
and no business experience beyond an internship.
Anna was as green as they come.
In a world where she knew no one with no idea of what she was doing.
How could she get dangerously close to fooling these banks?
To getting any of this money?
Now, you may have found Miss Sorokin's
behavior wrong, immoral, unethical, unorthodox.
You may love her or hate her for exploiting the system.
-But if anyone in this case… -What is he--
…is trying to remove people from their money, it's the bankers.
They will literally do anything in their nature
to get your accounts and business.
Was Anna ever remotely close
to getting any of these loans from any of these banks?
Never.
And if she had been, it wouldn't have gone into her pocket.
It would go to the landlord for the building
she wanted to renovate for her business.
But look at the evidence, and you'll see,
there was no business.
It was just a dream. An idea.
The only thing that materialized was a pitch deck.
A few words and pictures.
It was never real. Never tangible.
Anna was young, ambitious, in over her head,
totally unprepared and incapable of what she set out to do.
She was never, not for one second close,
let alone dangerously close,
to getting this money or building this building,
or starting this club, this art foundation.
It was all talk. Hot air.
A road to nowhere paved with naiveté and good intentions.
To prove she had the intent,
you'd have to prove she was dangerously close.
And if you can't find her intent, you cannot convict her of any crimes.
If you have a reasonable doubt as to her intent,
her state of mind,
then you must find her not guilty on all counts.
Thank you.
Thank you, Mr. Spodek.
Now, ladies and gentlemen, try to stay with me.
I'm going to change the tone of my voice a little
so that you will pay attention because this is important.
He tanked her. He totally tanked her.
The indictment is not evidence of guilt,
it's a notice of the charges…
-I had to. It was… -…against the defendant
served as the mechanism for bringing her to trial.
Throughout these proceedings, the defendant…
Hey.
How long does this shit take?
As long as it takes, I guess.
I'm not a patient person, so give me some mantra or some shit.
God, give me the strength to accept the things I cannot change…
You made that up or steal it from the Bible?
Neither.
My ex is in Alcoholics Anonymous.
So ten counts against Anna, right?
-Yes, Vivian, ten counts.
And she could get 15 years if convicted on all of them?
You've known this… What is this? Amnesia?
Early onset fucking Alzheimer's--
I'm trying to distract you so you'll stop twisting that bottle cap.
It's a big hallway, Vivian.
Think it's a one holdout, 12 Angry Men situation in there, or…
Is it the legal definitions they're struggling with?
I don't even care anymore.
I've done my bit.
I'm getting on a plane for Mexico in five hours. Come what may.
You're leaving?
Well, it's either that or divorce.
So…
Alexi can handle it from here. He's more than capable.
You're leaving today?
-It's just a case, Vivian. -I know that.
I've abandoned my family for long enough.
I get it. It's just…
-Anna's a big girl. -I know.
It's not that.
It's… I guess…
I don't have the words, and I should because words are my job,
but the closest thing I can come up with
for how I feel is that I will miss you.
This is not… We'll cross paths.
Of course.
And there'll be other cases of interest.
I mean, for sure.
Right.
We can go out to dinner. The four of us.
Maybe five.
Right. Yeah.
Here's hoping.
Nothing yet?
Don't ask me again.
Maybe there's no connection, bad service…
Viv's online.
This green light tells me so.
This computer thing even tells me when she's typing.
It actually tells me Vivian is typing when she's typing.
Who the fuck needs that much information?
Is that supposed to ease my anxiety? It does the exact opposite.
Since Vivian's not typing, I'm making a green tea run. Anybody?
I'm good.
I'll have a… a red eye.
Hold it, hold it…
Vivian is typing.
This is it.
Let's bring in the jury.
Everybody, sit down! Now!
-There's a verdict. -We can read.
Hi.
All right.
Members of the jury,
I understand we have a note indicating you have reached a verdict.
I would ask the clerk--
Would the foreperson please stand?
-You gotta stand up. -Oh.
Is the verdict unanimous?
Yes.
How say you as to count one, charging the defendant, Anna Sorokin,
with attempted grand larceny in the first degree,
attempt to steal property from City National Bank
exceeding $1 million. Guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
Whoo!
Yeah! Fuck, yeah! Okay.
How say you as to count two, charging the defendant
with attempted grand larceny in the first degree,
attempt to steal property from Fortress Investment Inc.
exceeding $1 million.
Guilty or not guilty?
Come on, come on, come on, type faster.
Type, Vivian.
Guilty.
Count three, charging the defendant
with grand larceny in the second degree,
stolen property from City National Bank exceeding $50,000.
-Guilty or not guilty? -Guilty.
Count four, charging the defendant with grand larceny in the second degree,
stolen property from Citibank NA exceeding $50,000.
-Guilty or not guilty? -Guilty.
Count five, charging the defendant with grand larceny in the second degree,
stolen property from Rachel Williams exceeding $50,000.
Guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
Count six, charging the defendant with grand larceny in the third degree,
stolen property from Signature Bank exceeding $3,000.
-Guilty or not guilty? -Guilty.
Count seven, charging the defendant with theft of services,
intent to obtain air transportation service with Fly Blade Inc.
-Guilty or not guilty? -Guilty.
Beekman Hotel?
Guilty.
-W Hotel. -Guilty.
-Le Parker Meridien Hotel. -Guilty.
Well…
that's that.
Ladies and gentlemen, it has been a very difficult job.
I understand that and I appreciate it.
As I said, no matter what your verdict was,
you served your community well.
A couple of things, all of the…
Hey, we won two out of the three big ones. That's not nothing.
-No, yeah. City National and Rachel. -Mmm-hmm.
It's not bad.
If you wish to speak to them, you may.
I think that some members of the media might wish to speak to you as well.
Again, it is your choice if you choose to speak with them.
And I want to mention something about the media.
Obviously, you have seen them here the whole time.
I'm very proud of the way you've focused on this case, not on them.
I'm sorry, but I've got to go right after this.
Alexi will walk you through the next steps.
I'll be back next week to check on you. Okay?
Yes.
Have a good vacation. You earned it.
And thanks once again for your service.
Thank you.
You may exit. You are discharged.
-I'm so proud of you. -Thank you. That means a lot.
We should stop and pick up sticker books for the kiddos
if you want any chance of surviving this flight.
I had Gloria call the hotel
and sign them up for kids club every day,
so we can claim half a day to ourselves to hit the golf course,
wander into town, spend the whole day in bed.
What is it?
I can't go. Not now.
Why? Todd, it's over.
I'll come as soon as I can.
I don't think you understand what you're doing right now.
I do understand.
I don't think you understand--
She's got you parking her car, Todd. You know that.
I love you, I…
You okay?
You betrayed me.
That's one way to look at it.
I also beat two out of three of your biggest charges.
You don't have to like how I got there, but let me explain.
It doesn't matter.
The jury, they saw through you.
They saw how close I was to the money, to ADF.
They saw through Rachel's bullshit.
I… I didn't need to fuck over my friends for 60 grand
when those fucking frat boys at Fortress were willing to hand over 20 million!
Those people in there. They… they saw me.
I was dangerously close, and they saw that.
Now… now the world will know that I am not an idiot.
I'm not some dumb socialite.
I'm a player.
I was so… I was one step away.
I'll call your dad.
I'll let him know.
The traffic on your original story is insane.
Between the trial and sentencing,
it's consistently peaking as the top-trending,
highest read ratio of any story on the site.
Globally, over four million unique impressions.
We've never seen anything like this.
-Have we, Paul? -Not in my memory.
The interest in this is, well, just…
We obviously need a follow-up.
Absolutely.
Cover story.
Yeah, big splash.
Get micro with it. I want all the inside color.
The conflict with the judge.
The whole courtroom, this runway business.
Apparently she wore white on the day of her closing arguments.
I mean, this chick's amazing.
Was that white dress her idea?
Or the stylist's?
Hey.
We should move you.
She needs an office. The office next to you is free.
You want the office next to Paul?
Don't worry about…
Uh, we're going to need art directors, photographers…
-The kid, the Mexican kid. -Who?
Oh.
Landon offered me an office.
Next to Paul's.
Attagirl.
I'm moving out of Scriberia.
That's the goal.
Vivian. What?
It was mine. The white dress Anna wore.
Huh. Huh.
I took it out of my closet, Lou.
Yep.
Lou…
Scriberia, white dresses…
You're burying the lead.
I care about her.
More than I should.
She doesn't care about me at all.
Did she care about me at all? Was I just another con?
The lead.
Vivian. Huh.
What the fuck do I do now?
You move onto the next story.
That's the job.
It's okay. It's okay.
Miss Sorokin, I have no confidence whatsoever…
None… Zero… To face the music.
I am remanding you to Rikers Island
for five to 15 years, state prison until trial.
Anna Sorokin,
convicted of swindling New York's elite out of more than $200,000,
will be sentenced tomorrow in a Manhattan courtroom.
Sorokin faces up to 15 years in prison.
Rachel can write.
-What's it say? Give it. -Stop it. You're not in here much.
Give it!
Should have come to Morocco, you'd be famous like me.
How can she write so fast?
-She's got the trial in here. -Give me the book.
It'll be out by summer.
You can read it on Jones Beach like the other basic bitches.
Here, have at it.
You know what, no.
I have wasted enough…
I'm shooketh.
I am done… living life through the eyes of others.
I am a director.
I'm a fucking film director, starting now.
I'm going inside and giving 'em my two weeks, right now. Watch me.
-Honey, wait. -Don't try talking me out of it.
Wait, Anna's sentence.
The judge is ruling. It's out.
How long?
Twelve years.
Four to twelve.
Twelve years.
In 12 years, my daughter will have a cellphone.
Twelve is the max.
In 12 years, there won't be Arctic sea ice.
-I'm not sure what that has to do-- -In 12 years, Anna will be 40.
She won't be a viral sensation.
She won't be an Instagram star.
She won't be daughter of the zeitgeist or queen of the millennials.
She'll be a lonely middle-aged woman whose life was stolen from her.
Todd.
What? What do you want me to say?
You didn't make her do the interview?
You didn't use her?
She didn't end up getting a longer sentence
because of the media attention?
Sorry, but you got more clicks, Anna got more time. Plain and simple.
How's your phone?
My phone?
I'll bet it's ringing.
Finally.
Getting some new clients these days?
Yeah, exactly.
You're about to get rich off of this case. Enjoy that.
Maybe give yourself a break. Regroup.
-Maybe take your family on vacation-- -I missed my family vacation!
I suppose that's my fault too?
Go to the fucking airport. Be with your family. I'm not stopping you.
Where's she going?
Bedford Hills.
When does she leave?
Are you nervous?
Fuck this place. I'm ready for real prison with real criminal masterminds.
It'll make the days more interesting.
And Bedford Hills, they say it's nice.
Yeah.
Anna, I… just wanted to say I'm sorry.
For what?
For how… everything turned out.
For all of this.
-I thought-- -You thought what?
I know you didn't think you were going to rescue me.
Anna, come on.
No touching.
I never thought…
You don't deserve this kind of a sentence.
The guys who broke the Wall Street banks didn't get this kind of a sentence.
You should…
If I hadn't written that article, I…
You are just starting out.
I'm saying… mistakes were made.
My only mistake was to overestimate people's ability to handle stress.
Your only mistake?
You're telling me… that given the chance to do this all over again,
you'd do the exact same things?
Anna.
This is it. This is the last time we're going to see each other.
I'm saying I'm sorry. I'm asking you--
No, stop, Vivian. You're not my friend.
We're not some giggling idiots, BFF, whatever.
I don't like you. You have terrible shoes. This was a transaction. We had a deal.
-Anna. -No, it's okay.
You made good on your part of the deal.
You said you would make me famous, and you did.
Who's more famous right now than Anna Delvey?
No touching.
You'll come visit.
No touching.
You'll come visit.
I'll visit.
God, just calm the fuck down.
-Time's up, Anna. Let's go. -Okay, I got it. Okay.
Goodbye, Vivian.
Goodbye, Anna.
Vivian…
you look good.
You lost some weight.
You're not so fat anymore.