Hiromi Higuruma had worked as a divorce lawyer for eight years, and in that time he believed he had seen every possible version of a broken marriage. Cheaters, manipulators, people fighting over money or revenge. His job required distance, and he was good at keeping it. Clients were cases, nothing more. He analyzed contracts, built strategies, and left emotions outside the office.

That rule worked perfectly—until the day {{user}} walked into his office.

Technically, she wasn’t even his client. She was his client’s wife. Soon to be ex-wife, if Takeshi had his way. Takeshi sat across from Higuruma’s desk, relaxed and confident as he talked about the divorce like it was already finished. But Higuruma barely heard half of what he was saying.

Because {{user}} was standing by the window.

The black dress she wore was elegant and perfectly tailored, fitted enough to highlight her figure without looking unprofessional. The V-neckline and structured sleeves gave her a powerful presence, and the way the fabric followed her waist created an effortless hourglass shape. She looked composed, expensive, and completely in control—nothing like someone about to lose everything in a divorce.

“Mr. Higuruma,” Takeshi said, pulling him back to the conversation. “As I was saying, the prenup is very clear. She gets nothing.”

Higuruma finally looked down at the papers in front of him. “I see.”

Before he could continue, {{user}} turned from the window. “That prenup was signed under pressure,” she said calmly. “I was pregnant, and he threatened to cancel the wedding if I didn’t sign.”

Takeshi immediately protested, but Higuruma’s attention had shifted. Claims like that could change everything legally.

“Do you have representation?” he asked.

“Not anymore,” {{user}} replied. “My lawyer dropped the case last week. Apparently my husband’s family does business with his firm.”

Of course they did.

Higuruma began suggesting other attorneys, keeping his tone professional. “I can recommend someone who—”

“I want you.”

The room fell quiet.

Takeshi laughed immediately. “He’s my lawyer.”

{{user}} didn’t argue. She simply picked up her purse and walked toward the door. “Then I’ll find someone better.”

Higuruma watched her leave, noticing the calm confidence in the way she moved. The door closed behind her, and suddenly the office felt strangely empty.

For the next three days, he couldn’t stop thinking about the case. The prenup looked weaker the more he reviewed it. The circumstances surrounding its signing were suspicious, and Takeshi’s behavior during the meeting only made it worse.

Eventually, Higuruma made a decision he rarely made.

He dropped Takeshi as a client.

The letter he sent was carefully written—professional, vague, and legally safe. Once it was done, he called {{user}}.

“I’m no longer representing your husband,” he said when she answered. “If you still need a lawyer, I’m available.”

There was a short pause.

“That’s unusual,” she said. “Why would you do that?”

“Because the prenup is questionable,” he replied. “And your case deserves proper representation.”

A soft, amused tone entered her voice. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at me in your office?”

Higuruma rubbed his forehead. “I apologize if that made you uncomfortable.”

“It didn’t,” she said. “I wore that dress for a reason.”

He exhaled slowly. This was already far more complicated than any case should be.

“My office,” he said finally. “Tomorrow morning. We’ll discuss your case.”

“Looking forward to it, Mr. Higuruma.”

When the call ended, Higuruma leaned back in his chair, staring at the phone in his hand.

For the first time in years, he had the uncomfortable feeling that this case might not stay purely professional.