Semua Bab WIN ME, ATTORNEY: The Man I Should've Never Met: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Gabriel’s POVI didn’t plan to think about the past when I agreed to meet Amarah.Some people leave your life so cleanly you convince yourself they took nothing with them. Others leave quietly—and somehow take years.Amarah was the latter.She sat across from me now, fingers wrapped around her cup, eyes steady but guarded. For a moment, it felt like time had folded in on itself. Same posture. Same careful stillness. Only the space between us had grown heavier.“You look well,” she said.“So do you,” I replied, because it was true—and because honesty had always been easier than comfort with her.We exchanged the usual pleasantries, but neither of us believed in them. Not really. Amarah had never been one for shallow conversations. When she finally spoke again, her voice softened.“I didn’t think you’d come.”“I wouldn’t have,” I admitted. “If it didn’t feel unfinished.”Her lips pressed together briefly. “It was unfinished.”There it was.Silence settled between us, not awkward, just l

Yna woke before her alarm, the pale light of early morning stretching across the ceiling. For a moment, she stayed still, listening to the city, to her own breathing, to the quiet certainty that something had shifted again. Not loudly. Not enough to name. Just enough to feel. Gabriel was already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, buttoning his shirt. He turned when he sensed her watching. “Morning,” he said softly. “Morning,” she replied, propping herself up. “You’re up early.” “Meeting,” he said. “Nothing urgent.” She nodded, studying him. He looked calm. Grounded. Whatever had weighed on him yesterday had settled into something firm and resolved. That comforted her more than words. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Don’t overwork today.” She smiled faintly. “That’s ironic coming from you.” “I worry selectively,” he said, then kissed her properly slow, reassuring. “I’ll see you tonight, darling.” After he left, the apartment felt different not empty, just… qui

The café smelled faintly of roasted coffee beans and cinnamon, the kind of scent that made mornings feel softer than they actually were. Outside, rain had left the streets slick and reflective, turning the city into a mirror of muted gray lights. Yna sat by the window, her latte steaming gently in her hands. She hadn’t expected anyone this morning just a few quiet moments before the day picked up. Her thoughts drifted lazily, circling the recent case and the comforting presence of Gabriel that still lingered in her mind. The soft jingle of the café door pulled her attention upward. A familiar figure paused at the entrance. Amarah. “Yna,” Amarah said, her voice carefully light as she approached the table. She carried her coffee like a shield, a small attempt at composure, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her calm. “Amarah,” Yna replied, a polite smile on her face. “Good morning.” The two women sat across from each other, the air thick with unspoken words. A few café patro

Amarah left the café in a daze. The air outside was cool, carrying the faint scent of rain that had fallen earlier, clinging to the pavement in a soft, reflective sheen. She walked slowly, each step deliberate, almost like she was trying to convince herself the ground beneath her feet was real. The city moved around her, people chatting, cars humming past, life continuing as if the café moment had never happened but for Amarah, it had shifted everything. Gabriel and Yna had been together. Not casually. Not vaguely. They were present in that space, comfortable, familiar, undeniably connected. Every glance, every small touch, every soft word Amarah had glimpsed told her something she hadn’t been ready to face: Gabriel had chosen her. And Yna wasn’t just anyone she was the one he had consciously chosen. Amarah’s chest felt tight, her thoughts spinning. She had imagined that seeing him would be easier, that time and distance would have softened the edges of what they had shared. Inste

Yna sat at her desk, the soft glow of her laptop illuminating her focused expression. Outside, the city had fallen into a quiet rhythm cars passing intermittently, streetlights flickering on wet asphalt, and the distant hum of life that never truly stopped. Inside, the apartment was calm, almost deceptively peaceful. She picked up the small stack of papers she had found the night before the anonymous list of dates, case numbers, and names. At first glance, it looked like random notes, nothing illegal, nothing overtly alarming. But her instincts prickled. Patterns were hidden in plain sight, subtle threads woven between the lines, deliberately placed for someone who knew what to look for. Her fingers traced the edges of the pages, tapping lightly against the inked letters. Someone had been meticulous, patient, leaving evidence small enough to be overlooked but deliberate enough to draw her attention. A faint chill ran down her spine. Someone is watching me, she realized. The thought