Justice had reviewed thousands of these. Politicians. Judges. Journalists. Federal agents. Every person connected to Prosecutor Richard Y/L/N had eventually found their way into a folder on his desk. Richard had spent years building the largest organized crime case in the country’s history, and Justice intended to stay several steps ahead.

Then he stopped.

One photograph. A young woman climbing out of Richard’s truck, laughing as she stole his coffee from his hand before darting toward the courthouse entrance. Richard called after her, shaking his head with the exhausted smile only a father could wear.

Justice looked at the photograph longer than he should have.

He quietly closed it.

Across the city, the late afternoon sun cut sharp shadows across the federal courthouse plaza. A crowd of reporters swarmed the steps, cameras flashing as executives in expensive suits thanked Graham Harrington for saving a billion-dollar merger from collapse. He answered exactly three questions before excusing himself.

As he crossed the plaza toward his waiting car, movement near the courthouse entrance caught his eye.

A young woman stood near one of the stone columns, balancing two drinks while scrolling through her phone. One slipped.

Graham caught it before it could hit the ground.

The next morning, you woke up unaware that two of the most powerful men in the country had spent the night learning everything they could about you.