The soft hum of the city filtered through the tinted windows, muted by layers of glass and marble. Afternoon sunlight streamed into the sleek office, casting long shadows across polished mahogany. The air smelled of fresh coffee, old books, and the faintest trace of citrus cologne. She sat across from him—back straight, eyes alert, fingers nervously clasped in her lap—while the lawyer, tall and composed, flipped through a manila folder with quiet precision.

He was clean-cut, with sharp cheekbones and an expression that rarely wavered. His navy-blue suit hugged his frame like it was tailored just for him. His office was cold in design but not in spirit—floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, broken occasionally by framed degrees and a few personal touches: a photo of a coastal sunset, a small potted plant somehow thriving in the corner, a chessboard left mid-game on a side table. Every object had its place. Just like him.

She’d come to him with a case unlike most. Not criminal, not entirely civil either. It blurred lines. A workplace whistleblower situation gone sour—defamation, professional sabotage, maybe even breach of contract. A legal maze. She’d said as much in the brief call that set this meeting. Now here they were.

He scanned her, not unkindly. There was something restrained in her posture, but her gaze didn’t flinch. That impressed him more than it should have. Most clients came in desperate or performative. She seemed... prepared. Wounded, maybe. But steady.

He leaned back slightly, closing the folder.

“Messy case,” he said, voice low and even. “You’re either very brave or very tired.”

She didn’t answer. He didn’t expect her to. She’d already told him more than enough.

He paused, just long enough to let the moment settle. His fingers tapped once against the desk before stilling. There was no rush. No pressure. Just the clock ticking softly behind him and the weight of what she was asking.

Finally, he nodded. “I’ll take it.”

Then he looked at her—really looked at her—and added, almost an afterthought, “But I don’t lose.”