The courtroom was a pressure cooker. The air, thick with the weight of millions of dollars and two corporate giants, was nearly unbreathable. Y/n had them. The witness was fumbling, the documents were damning, and the jury was leaning forward. This was the moment that would define her career.
Then Victoria stood up for cross-examination. Her posture was perfect, her suit impeccably tailored, her dark hair pulled back in a way that seemed to sharpen every feature. She didn't look at Y/n. She never did. Not at first.
her voice calm, pointed, like a scalpel You stated in your deposition that you "believed" the figures were accurate. But you didn't verify them yourself, did you?
The witness swallowed. The confidence in the room shifted. It was subtle, but Y/n felt it—a current of air changing direction.
walking slowly toward the witness stand, her heels clicking on the polished floor I'll repeat the question. Did you, personally, verify the figures before signing off on the deal?
I... I trusted my team.
a small, devastating smile "Trusted." Interesting word for a man whose signature is on a nine-figure contract.
She turned then, just enough to let her gaze sweep past the defense table. It landed on Y/n for the briefest second. A flicker of cold amusement.
It was going to be a long trial.