It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “I believe in justice. Even when it’s inconvenient. Especially then. This case just reminded me of it.”
After Sandra left, I sat alone in my office, staring out at the city lights. The financial hit I’d just accepted would be substantial—well into six figures. My carefully managed life was becoming increasingly complicated, the neat boundaries between professional and personal blurring beyond recognition.
And yet, I felt more certain of my path than I had in years. Whatever the cost, Alex deserved justice. If Montgomery and the executive committee couldn’t see that, it was their moral failing, not mine.
I turned back to my desk and pulled the Halston files toward me. It would be a long night, but I’d meant what I said. I would win this case—not just for Alex, but for every victim silenced by wealth and power.
Some things were worth the price.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alex
I STOODfrozen at the courthouse steps, my Salvation Army jacket suddenly too tight across my shoulders. People streamed past us—lawyers with briefcases, court reporters, families clutching each other’s hands. Just another Tuesday for them. The day my life would be dissected in public for mine.
“Alex.” Sandra’s voice pulled me back. She stood beside me, her usual efficiency softened by genuine concern. “We should head inside. Damian and Mitchell are waiting at security.”
I nodded but couldn’t make my feet move. Three weeks of preparation, and now that the moment had arrived, terror gripped me like a physical force.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered.
Sandra didn’t dismiss my fear or offer empty reassurances. Instead, she placed herself directly in my line of sight, blocking the intimidating courthouse facade.
“Listen to me,” she said quietly. “I’ve worked with Damian Richards for fifteen years. I’ve seen him destroy corporations, dismantle fraudulent schemes, and reduce hostile witnesses to confessions on the stand. But I’ve never—never—seen him prepare for a case the wayhe’s prepared for yours.”
She straightened my already straight tie. “That man hasn’t slept more than four hours a night since you walked into his office. He believes in you. So do Mitchell and I. But most importantly, you need to believe in yourself.”
I took a shaky breath. “What if Marcus—”
“Marcus Delaney is just a man,” she interrupted. “A wealthy, entitled man who’s never faced consequences. Today, that changes.”
The certainty in her voice steadied me. I managed a nod and followed her up the steps, through security, and into the marble-floored lobby where Damian and Mitchell waited.
Damian’s eyes found mine immediately. “There you are. Ready?”
Before I could answer, movement across the lobby caught my attention. Marcus and Edward Blackwood emerged from an elevator, deep in conversation. Marcus looked impeccable as always—charcoal suit perfectly tailored to his tall frame, silver hair styled just so, gold cuff-links catching the light.
My heart slammed against my ribs. My vision tunnelled, the courthouse sounds fading beneath the roar of blood in my ears. Three years of conditioning made my body want to shrink, to apologize, to return to his side where punishment would be less severe than defiance.
“Alex.” Damian’s voice cut through the panic. He’d positioned himself between me and Marcus, blocking my view. “Look at me.”
I forced my eyes to focus on him.
“He has no power here,” Damian said, his voice low and firm. “This is our territory now. The law doesn’t care about his money or his connections. It cares about evidence, and we have that in abundance.”
Mitchell appeared at my other side, a human shield. “Courtroom 303 is ready for us. We should head up.”
I nodded, grateful for their protective formation as we moved toward the elevators. As the doors closed, I caught a glimpse of Marcuswatching me, his expression unreadable from a distance.
“He looks smaller than I expected,” Mitchell said cheerfully.
A surprised laugh escaped me, easing some of the tightness in my chest. “He’s six-foot-three.”
“Still,” Mitchell shrugged. “Not that impressive.”
Sandra rolled her eyes, but I caught her slight smile.
The courtroom was already half-full when we entered. Our table was set up with neat stacks of documents, laptops, and notepads. I sat where Damian indicated, trying not to look at the door as we waited for Marcus and his attorney to enter.
