Ch.68: The Proposition

I left the cemetery, but I didn't go home. I didn't have a home. My apartment was a crime scene. My office was a crater.

I walked to the river. The water was gray, churning with the runoff from the storm.

A black car pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down.

"Get in," Julian said.

He looked different. Cleaner. His suit was new, sharp, perfectly tailored. His hair was styled. He looked like the Trillion-Dollar Boy King again.

But his eyes were the same. The eyes of the man who had bled out in an APC to save me.

I got in.

"How did you find me?" I asked.

"I tracked your phone," he said unapologetically. "Old habits."

"I thought you were busy firing your board of directors."

"I finished early," he said. "Turns out, people are very agreeable when you hold the keys to the city."

He handed me a folder.

"What's this?"

"An offer," he said. "I wasn't kidding in the boardroom, Harper. I need a General Counsel. Someone who isn't afraid to get their hands dirty. Someone who can keep me honest."

I opened the folder. The salary figure was obscene. The benefits were ridiculous.

"I told you," I said, closing the folder. "I can't work for you."

"Why? Because I'm rich?"

"Because you're dangerous," I said. "And because I'm not a corporate lawyer. I help people who have nothing. People like the Rats."

"So help them," Julian said. "With my money."

He tapped the folder.

"Look at page two."

I opened it again.

**PROPOSAL: THE VANCE FOUNDATION.**
**MISSION: PRO BONO LEGAL DEFENSE FOR THE INDIGENT.**
**INITIAL ENDOWMENT: 1 BILLION CREDITS.**

I stared at the number.

"A billion credits?"

"It's a start," Julian said. "You run it. You pick the cases. You hire the lawyers. No oversight. No board. Just you, doing what you do best. Only this time, you have the resources to win."

I looked at him. "Why?"

"Because you were right," he said. "The system is broken. And I helped break it. This is... reparations."

"It's guilt money," I said.

"Maybe," he admitted. "But it spends the same."

I looked at the contract. It was everything I had ever wanted. A chance to really make a difference. A chance to save people like Liam.

But there was a catch. I knew there was a catch.

"What's the catch?" I asked.

"The catch," Julian said, reaching into his pocket, "is that you have to deal with me."

He pulled out a small velvet box.

My heart stopped.

"Julian..."

"Don't panic," he said, opening the box.

It wasn't a diamond. It wasn't a rock.

It was a ring made of twisted steel.

"Is that..."

"A piece of the rotor blade," he said. "From the helicopter. I had it melted down."

He took the ring out. It was rough, industrial, beautiful.

"It's not a proposal of marriage," he said, holding my gaze. "I know you're not ready for that. I'm not ready for that."

He took my hand. He slid the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly.

"It's a proposal of partnership," he said. "Real partnership. Equal stakes. Equal risk."

He looked at the ring on my hand.

"This city is going to try to kill us again, Harper. Sterling isn't the only shark in the water. There will be others. And I don't want to face them alone."

I looked at the ring. It was cold against my skin. It was a reminder of the violence, the fear, the blood.

But it was also a reminder of the strength. The survival.

"A billion credits," I said.

"Plus expenses," he added.

"And I pick the cases."

"Every single one."

I looked at him. The man who had been my enemy. My client. My lover.

"Okay," I said.

He smiled. It was the smile from the tunnel. The smile of a boy playing with fire.

"Okay?"

"Okay," I repeated. "But if you ever try to track my phone again, I'll sue you."

"Fair enough," he said.

He leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't desperate this time. It was a promise.

"Where to, Counselor?" he asked, pulling away.

I looked at the city skyline. It was still gray, still scarred. But for the first time, it didn't look hopeless.

"Prison," I said. "I have a visit to make."

Not a marriage proposal. A partnership.