All Chapters of WIN ME, ATTORNEY: The Man I Should've Never Met: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The warehouse was never meant to exist. No records. No permits. No history. It stood at the edge of the industrial district like a forgotten scar concrete walls soaked in oil and silence. This was the kind of place where truths were buried before they learned how to scream. Amarah arrived first. Raven, fully. She moved through the shadows with deliberate slowness, boots barely making a sound against the cold floor. Her hood stayed up, face half hidden, posture relaxed but ready. Every entrance had been checked. Every blind spot mapped. She knew exactly how many exits existed and how many were fake. This wasn’t a trap. It was a test. Her comm buzzed once. Jake: This is as close as it gets. No intermediaries. He insisted. Raven’s jaw tightened. “So did I,” she murmured, cutting the line. The lights flickered. Once. Then footsteps echoed measured, unhurried, confident in a way that didn’t need announcing. Gabriel stepped into the open space. No guards. No visible weapons.

The second meeting wasn’t scheduled. That was how Amarah knew it was real. The message came through an encrypted channel she had burned days ago one she was certain no one else had access to. No signature. No demand. Just a location. And a line that froze her blood. I know who you are. The building was smaller this time. Older. A former records office condemned after a fire that never officially happened. The kind of place truths went to die. Amarah entered without disguise. No hood. No voice modulation. If this was the end of the game, she would not hide. Gabriel was already inside. He stood near a broken window, hands in his pockets, posture calm but his eyes gave him away. They were too sharp. Too alert. Like a man bracing for impact he had chosen not to avoid. When he turned and saw her face— Everything stopped. Not metaphorically. His breath caught. His shoulders stiffened. The room seemed to contract around them. “…Amarah,” he said. Not Raven. Not an alias. He

Yna noticed it first in the pauses. Gabriel had always been deliberate with his time busy, yes, but present. When he listened, he listened fully. When he promised something, he followed through. That was the man she had come to trust. Lately, he hesitated. Not long enough to be obvious. Just enough to feel… unfamiliar. They were sitting across from each other at a small café near her apartment, the night softened by warm lights and low conversation. Gabriel stirred his drink absently, eyes drifting to the window more than to her. “You’re quiet,” Yna said gently. He smiled quick, practiced. “Long week.” She nodded, accepting it, but something in his tone didn’t settle right. His phone buzzed once on the table. He flipped it face down immediately. That wasn’t like him. “Everything okay at work?” she asked. “Yeah,” he replied too quickly. “Just a lot of loose ends.” Loose ends. The phrase echoed in her mind. She watched his hands steady, but tense. His jaw set a

Yna noticed the silence first. Not the comfortable kind the kind that followed laughter or rest but the sharp, attentive quiet that settled when something had already happened and no one wanted to name it. The office was still functioning. Phones rang. Papers shuffled. People passed by with the same practiced urgency they always wore. But beneath it, there was a pause, like everyone had inhaled at the same time and forgotten how to exhale. She sat at her desk, fingers hovering above her notebook, pretending to review notes she already knew by heart. Across the room, someone whispered her name and then stopped, as if remembering too late that she wasn’t supposed to hear it. Yna didn’t look up. She had learned, over the years, that attention often arrived uninvited. And when it did, it brought questions she wasn’t ready to answer. Still, she felt it something had shifted. Gabriel hadn’t arrived yet. That alone was unusual. He was never late. Not because he was punctual

She walked instead letting the city’s noise settle her thoughts, letting instinct speak without interruption. You’re asking the wrong questions. She replayed it again and again. Not stop asking. Not you shouldn’t know. Wrong questions. Which meant there were right ones. Yna slowed, heart steadying. For the first time since the message, something like clarity cut through her unease. She wasn’t being warned away. She was being challenged. And whoever had sent that message They didn’t underestimate her. That realization sent a shiver through her, sharp and electric. Somewhere else, Raven stood on a rooftop, city lights stretching endlessly below. She watched the flow of people, the quiet machinery of power grinding on, unseen and unquestioned. “Let’s see how long you keep pretending not to see,” she murmured. The game had begun not with a reveal, not with a threat But with a question asked too softly to ignore. Yna closed the door to her apartment and leaned against