#Chapter 5: Unlikely Encounters

Ella

With my boss’s directive, the rest of the day was uncharacteristically light for me.

 

There was an odd sense of liberation, knowing that the usual tasks weren’t waiting for me. I ventured into the heart of the city, selecting a sophisticated yet sharp charcoal-gray suit. As I felt the smooth fabric against my skin, I thought that I definitely needed this upgrade.

 

Returning to the firm, I noticed my colleagues glancing curiously at me. Their confusion was understandable; they weren’t used to seeing me so relaxed and unburdened.

 

Sarah, on the other hand, sulked by her desk without a word. She was surrounded by a sea of papers, and looked utterly overwhelmed. I felt a little bad for her.

 

“Hey,” I said quietly as I made my way up to her. “Want some help?”

 

Sarah’s face turned red. “Not from you,” she hissed. “Why did you have to go and tattle? It’s not like I ask for help from you because I look down on you or anything. It’s just… Well, I normally have better clients than you do.”

 

I took in a sharp breath, choosing not to let her snide comment get the best of me.

 

“I know,” I said, forcing a stiff smile. “But I didn’t ‘tattle’. If I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure what happened…”

 

Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “And a high profile client, too? What’s the big deal?”

 

I shrugged, pulling up a chair to the side of her desk. “I don’t know, Sarah. But, hey… Let me help you. I’ve got free time.”

 

For a couple of hours, I assisted Sarah despite her obvious disdain for me. We spent the next two hours reviewing briefs and cross-referencing case laws. It felt good to lend a hand without the pressure of pending tasks hanging over my head.

 

Finishing up, I checked my wristwatch. It read 5:30 pm.

 

A full thirty minutes of free time before my meeting, I mused. This was truly an anomaly in my rigorous routine. Typically, I would be hunched over case files until the wee hours of the morning.

 

I spent the last thirty minutes looking at the meager file that Mr. Henderson gave me. It offered little information, other than my client’s last name: Barrett.

 

Whoever this ‘Mr. Barrett’ was certainly seemed like a bit of an enigma, or someone who at the very least valued his privacy. Other than that, all I could gather was that this mysterious ‘Mr. Barrett’ owned several businesses throughout the city, each one more different than the last.

 

A chain of supermarkets, a mattress store, a… car wash? Was he really as well-known as Mr. Henderson made him out to be? Surely there had to be more than this.

 

Exiting the law firm’s imposing steel-and-glass building, I was greeted by the sight of a sleek black Bentley.

 

Really? Another one? I chuckled inwardly, pondering the curious penchant for Bentleys amongst this city’s elite. It brought me back to my ill-fated encounter with my fated mate last night, but I quickly pushed that sour memory out of my mind and plastered a smile on my face instead.

 

The door opened smoothly, and I was met by the face of a professional-looking driver. I was half-expecting my client, considering the dramatics from earlier. He gave a polite nod.

 

“Miss Morgan?”

 

I nodded in response, settling comfortably in the back seat. “To Mr. Barrett’s, then?”

 

“Yes, ma'am,” he replied, starting the car.

 

The leather interior exuded opulence. I fished out the case files I had carefully curated throughout the day. L. Barrett: owner of a strange array of businesses and now in the midst of a significant land dispute.

 

As the Bentley smoothly navigated the city streets, I was treated to an evolving canvas of urban wonders. The city, bathed in the soft amber glow of the setting sun, showcased a unique blend of architectural marvels and bustling life.

 

This city was so much different from the one I had grown up in, so much more culture. People of all walks of life, backgrounds, and ethnicities walked the streets. Colorful murals lined the walls of buildings. Street performers did tricks and played instruments on the sidewalks, amassing groups of curious tourists and onlookers.

 

Yes, this city was more dangerous than the one I had grown up in. It was overpopulated, with a thick current of crime running along its dark underbelly.

 

But it had character beneath it all. Potential. I imagined a world in which the crime of this city was eventually dredged out, allowing the city’s true colors to finally shine.

 

That was why I came here, to make a positive mark here. As a lawyer, I had the ability to choose between running along the dark side or the light side. I could defend criminals, I could help them stay out of prison so they could continue to commit crimes, or… I could defend good people. I could put the bad guys away behind bars.

 

That was what I wanted. My dad didn’t fully understand it, but Moana, the Golden Wolf, understood fully how much that meant to me. She knew better than anybody how much good was in the world, and how those good people just needed a few extra rungs placed on their ladder sometimes to climb to the top.

 

The Bentley pulled up to a towering building, its facade gleaming with the golden hues of the setting sun. The magnitude of its luxury struck me immediately.

 

While I hadn’t been in the city for long, it was undeniable that this was one of its crown jewels. It reminded me of my dad’s penthouse back in my home city, which he owned the entirety of. My dad rented out the lower apartments to other wealthy people, but it was mostly reserved for our sprawling penthouse.

 

This building, however, was a little different. I could tell from the sign and the red carpet running up to the door, along with the sight of the elegantly-dressed people coming in and out, that this place practically dripped with cash.

 

The doorman's crisp uniform and white gloves alone were a testament to the building’s prestige. No wonder Mr. Henderson insisted that I buy a nice suit.

 

“Miss Morgan, I presume?” he said, smiling courteously. “Mr. Barrett is expecting you. Top floor.”

 

As I stepped into the elevator, I took a moment to breathe. This entire setup felt lavish. Too lavish.

 

My father, a seasoned businessman, would never entertain his legal counsel in such an opulent manner. It was too showy, too brazen.

 

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a dimly lit, expansive space. The entire floor seemed to be reserved for this single event. A large table was set, pristine white tablecloth shimmering under the chandeliers.

 

But the real showstopper was the panoramic view of the city. Its lights danced like stars against the canvas of the night.

 

Against this backdrop stood a silhouette.

 

The man’s posture was commanding, yet there was an unmistakable familiarity about him. The intoxicating scent that drifted towards me made my heart skip a beat.

 

It was a fragrance I knew… I knew it all too well, in fact.

 

Instantly, I went to turn around and leave—but the elevator doors were shut, and a man in a black suit with dark sunglasses on was blocking the way.

 

It can’t be, I thought to myself, swallowing as I slowly turned back to face the figure standing by the window.

 

“Miss…” He turned, and the light from the room illuminated his features. As soon as he saw me, his eyes widened in recognition, his posture straightened, and his voice trembled just slightly as he continued.

 

“... Miss Morgan. Good evening.”