Chapter 215: Signed And Official!

They ended up at the conference table, of all places.

The first real meeting in the firm’s history happened between two people, a legal pad, and a pair of coffees Liam had grabbed from the café down the street. Vanessa sat at the head of the oak table like she’d been born there. Liam took the chair to her right and didn’t mention it.

Then came the boring part.

Start date. Notice period. Salary. Title. Benefits. Who handled what.

"Two hundred thousand base," Liam said, sliding a sheet of paper across the table. "Plus a twenty-five-thousand signing bonus. Plus a performance structure we’ll revisit in six months."

Vanessa looked down at the number. $200,000.

Then she looked up at him.

Then she looked back down at the number again.

"Liam. This is more than Harlan pays their senior associates."

"I know."

She set the paper down very carefully, like it might evaporate if she moved too fast. "Why?"

"Because I don’t want you thinking about leaving in a year," he said simply. "I want you thinking about what this place looks like in ten."

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then she picked up her pen and signed the offer letter before he could change his mind.

Liam watched her do it and felt something settle in his chest.

One down.

It was a start. A firm with two lawyers wasn’t a firm. It was a small office with an expensive table. He’d need associates, paralegals, a receptionist who could handle difficult clients, an investigator, maybe a forensic accountant. The best people he could find. The top of the top.

And the top of the top didn’t come cheap.

He’d have to set a salary structure that could compete with the biggest firms in Seattle, and right now, he had no real revenue coming in to support it. No clients yet. No cases. Just a beautiful building and a dwindling balance.

Liam did the math quietly while Vanessa read through the benefits sheet.

He needed money. Real money. And he knew exactly where to get it.

Mrs. Harriet.

He’d need to make a big investment in her. Something in the range of half a million dollars. He had roughly $555,000 left after Priya and the hospital. One purchase like that would leave him with barely $55,000. But with the beginner bonus still active and a five-star target on the receiving end, the rebate wouldn’t just replace that money. It would multiply it.

And Mrs. Harriet was the perfect person to spend it on.

With Rachel, every purchase came wrapped in emotion. She was fragile in ways he had to be careful with. A gift that was too big could overwhelm her. A gesture that came at the wrong moment could hurt her. Every dollar had to be measured against how it would make her feel.

Mrs. Harriet was the opposite.

She didn’t crack under extravagance. She expected it. Lavish gestures didn’t intimidate her or make her suspicious. They simply confirmed what she already knew about her own value. That made her the safest, smartest investment he had.

He just needed the right purchase.

"You’re doing the thinking face," Vanessa said without looking up.

"What thinking face?"

"The one where you go quiet and look like you’re solving a crime."

He laughed. "Just planning."

She set down the benefits sheet and looked at him, and Liam saw something on her face he hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t just excitement. It was gratitude. Raw and unguarded, like someone who’d spent years being underestimated and had finally met someone who looked past her face.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For seeing me as more than... you know."

"I know," he said. "And you’re welcome."

Truthfully, on paper, she was underqualified. A young associate, mostly grunt work, sent by Mrs. Harriet to charm him rather than to practice law. Any other founder would have called this hire a gamble.

But Liam wasn’t any other founder.

Vanessa had been working under Mrs. Harriet. She knew how the woman thought. What she valued. What impressed her and what bored her.

He wasn’t gambling.

He was calculating.

And Vanessa had just become his most valuable asset.

-

Darren woke up to sunlight in the wrong place.

It wasn’t the thin grey glow of early morning he was used to. It was low and golden, slanting across the floor from the far side of the window. He squinted at it, confused, then reached for his phone.

4:52 PM.

He stared at the screen.

Darren never slept late. Not since he was a kid. His body had always woken him before the sun, alert and ready, like some part of him was still waiting for trouble to come knocking.

But today, it had simply let him sleep.

He lay there for a moment, listening. The apartment was completely, unusually quiet.

"Keiza?"

No answer.

He sat up and swung his legs off the bed. On the nightstand sat a large plate covered in foil, a fork resting on top, and a folded note in her neat, careful handwriting.

[You were supposed to make breakfast. You snored instead. Made it myself. Eat ALL of it. Call me after work. — K]

Below it, she’d drawn a small, lopsided heart.

Darren smiled and peeled back the foil. Scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, toast, and sliced avocado. Cold by now, but he didn’t care. He ate every bite sitting on the edge of the bed.

He felt different today, somehow.

Lighter.

For years, his body had lived in survival mode. Always braced. Always waiting. Last night, telling Keiza the truth, had finally let some of that tension go. Now his body was cashing in every hour of rest it had been owed.

He showered next, slowly.

Liam’s bathroom was a shrine of serums, scented body washes, and bottles with French names. Darren’s had one bar of soap, a two-in-one shampoo, a razor, and a towel that had seen better days.

It got the job done. It always had.

He dressed in grey joggers and a black hoodie, then grabbed his gym bag by the door.

Before leaving, he checked his phone one more time.

No reply from the coach.

Darren frowned slightly, slung the bag over his shoulder, and headed out.

He’d ask in person.