Jessica Pearson stood at the window, looking down on Manhattan spread beneath her. She didn't turn when the door opened.
"You're late," she said.
Harvey Specter closed the door behind him.
"I'm early. The sun just doesn't know it yet."
Jessica allowed herself a thin smile and finally turned.
"Sit. Kurogane Meridian Trust," she said, tapping a slim folder on her desk. "Walk me through it."
"Minority investors are claiming breach of fiduciary duty. Asset dilution. They're saying Kurogane used a foreign subsidiary to bleed value out of the trust and park it somewhere untouchable."
Jessica raised an eyebrow.
"Did they?"
"They optimised," Harvey replied smoothly. "Aggressively, but legally."
"And jurisdiction?" she asked.
"Doesn't exist," Harvey said without hesitation. "A foreign fiduciary entity executed transfers. No operational control from the U.S. parent. Clean corporate separation."
Jessica nodded slowly. "So why are we in court instead of filing a motion and going to lunch?"
"Because the plaintiffs want leverage. Discovery, headlines... They're hoping pressure gets them a settlement," Harvey smiled.
"And will it?"
"No."
"Who's representing them?" she asked.
Harvey shrugged.
"Some small firm. I haven't heard from them ever. The lead counsel's name is ehm... something Italian."
"Something Italian? Really?"
"It reminded me of a singer, I just can't remember which one. It's not important."
Donna, Harvey's secretary, walked in and handed Harvey some files.
"Here it is. Adriano Mattei is the lead counsel's name."
"You're the best, Donna."
"I know," she said, already walking out.
"That's not a name I recognise," Jessica said carefully.
"Neither do I," Harvey replied. "No major cases. No press. No pattern. He's personally arguing the injunction hearing, which tells me one of two things."
"And those are?"
"Either he's inexperienced, or he thinks this is already over."
"And what do you think?" she asked.
"I think he's walking into a wall."
Jessica picked up the file and flipped to a page. She didn't say anything and read silently for a moment, then looked at Harvey again.
"You're asking for dismissal?"
"Outright," Harvey said. "And if the judge hesitates, I push for injunctive relief so severe they won't survive discovery."
Jessica held Harvey's look for another second, then nodded.
"Fine," she said. "Win clean. No unnecessary fireworks."
"You'll have your dismissal by lunch," he said, standing up.
As he reached the door, Jessica spoke again.
"One more thing. If this Adriano Mattei surprises you, I want to know how before I know that," Jessica said.
She didn't know what it was, but something didn't seem right. The case had been handed over to this no-name firm and to a no-name lawyer she hadn't heard of. It was an important case, so why would anyone hand this over to them?
Harvey smiled his confident, dangerous smile. The one that fit the 'best closer in New York'.
"Don't worry, the only surprise today is how fast this ends."
.
The courtroom doors swung open, and Harvey Specter walked in with an undefeatable confidence that told anyone he couldn't lose even if he wanted to.
Harvey Specter didn't look around. He never did. Courtrooms, offices, elevators—the same rule applied: if you were important, you'd already be in his line of sight. If you weren't, you didn't matter.
His tie, his suit, everything was perfect, and he had a smirk already placed on his face, ready to hear that he won. This case was simple. The opposing counsel had changed, since they knew they couldn't defeat Harvey Spectre, and now it was some nobody firm no one had heard of, propped up by a kid barely old enough to shave. A courtesy win at best, Harvey thought—a teaching moment at worst.
Then he saw him. Harvey stopped walking.
Asleep.
Not dozing off for a brief moment, because he hadn't slept all night, being too nervous for this moment, not thinking deeply with eyes closed.
Asleep.
Head tilted slightly to the side, one leg crossed over the other, jacket next to him, all worn... and snoring lightly. Dark hair, seemingly unstyled but clean in that irritating way only very few people achieve by not trying. His hands were folded on his stomach, as if the courtroom were a waiting lounge. But the worst thing was his black-and-yellow suit.
"… You've got to be kidding me."
He walked straight toward the offender.
Up close, the kid looked even younger, despite being very tall and broad-shouldered. He seemed unbothered. His breathing was slow and even; there were no notes on the table in front of him, no files, no tablet. Nothing but a single briefcase on the bench next to him.
"Hey," Harvey said condescendingly. "This isn't a library."
One eye opened. Then the other. The man, or rather the boy, Harvey corrected, looked at him with mild curiosity, like Harvey was an interesting cloud that had drifted into view.
"…Oh, you must be opposing counsel." his voice was low, smooth, and even amused.
"Harvey Specter. Pearson Hardman," he said.
"Harvey... Specter..." the young man repeated slowly.
"Right, I represent--"
"I've heard good things. Thank you for waking me up, by the way... would have been a bother if the judge saw me like that again~"
"... Whatever. Listen, I realise you're only familiarising yourself with the case, and since you are so... tired, how about we come to an agreement right now? Then you don't have to embarrass yourself before court."
"Ohh, how nice of you."
"Great, then I'll let the judge know that--"
"No."
"No?"
"I don't settle. Unless, of course, you like to give me, ah... let's see here," the young man said and took out an old phone from his breast pocket.
He looked up and down at Harvey while Harvey typed, then showed it to him.
"... this. Which is what I'll earn for this trial. Plus expenses. Then we have something to talk about."
"You must be joking," Harvey said, unable to comprehend what he was hearing.
"Gave it a shot. Good luck."
Harvey laughed under his breath.
"Kid, when this is over, do yourself a favour and take notes. It'll help next time."
The young man smiled, not cocky, not defensive or scared, just amused again.
That was when the bailiff called the room to order, and the judge entered, and something immediately felt off.
"Good morning, Mr Mattei," the judge said warmly as she settled in. "I trust you're well?"
The young man rose smoothly to his feet. Only now did his considerable height come to light. But despite his large stature and broad shoulders, and the ridiculous yellow colour of his suit, his posture was relaxed and respectful.
"Very well, Your Honour. Thank you for asking."
Harvey's smile faltered for a moment. The judge knew his name.
"And I see you've brought the matter before us personally today," the judge continued. "I take that as a sign you consider it… interesting? Or another lost bet?"
"Something like that."
The judge nodded, satisfied, then finally turned to Harvey.
"Mr Specter. You may begin."
Harvey stood up.
"Your Honour," he said evenly, "this case should be dismissed outright."
He didn't rush. He never did, never saw a reason for it. Confidence, when appropriately wielded, did half the work for you. And he never went to court unless he was certain that he would win.
The allegations, Harvey explained, rested on a misunderstanding of structure rather than law. The alleged misconduct occurred outside the United States' jurisdiction and was executed by a foreign fiduciary entity operating independently. There was no operational control, no direct involvement, no legal bridge connecting the U.S. parent to the actions being challenged.
Harvey cited precedent with practised ease, cases he thought the judges trusted and rulings that had survived appeal and scrutiny before. New York courts, Harvey reminded the judge, had consistently refused to pierce corporate separations under these circumstances. The law was clear, so the answer to all of this was clear as well.
The judge nodded slightly, recognising the truth in Harvey's words. He was an outstanding lawyer after all, so this was to be expected.
"Even if the timing appears suspicious," Harvey continued, "implied intent is not the same as true purpose. Markets fluctuate, and losses happen all the time. Risk, by itself, is not a crime. We ask for dismissal, alternatively, injunctive relief to prevent abusive discovery."
Then he sat down, already relaxed, already done with it. For a moment, the courtroom was quiet. The judge looked at Harvey and then at Adriano. He stood up slowly. There was a lazy tone in the way he spoke, but what he said made up for the apparent slowness.
"Your Honour," he said softly, almost conversationally, "Mr Specter's argument depends on three assumptions."
He raised one finger.
"First," he said, "that this court lacks jurisdiction. Six months ago, New York amended its fiduciary statute. Subsection C. The amendment states that when a U.S. parent entity materially benefits from foreign fiduciary conduct, jurisdiction applies regardless of operational distance."
The judge leaned forward, hearing this.
"Donovan v. Kessler," Adriano added, "was not overturned. It was superseded."
Harvey rose halfway out of his seat.
"Your Honour--"
She raised a hand without looking at him, stopping him from talking.
"I'm aware of the amendment, Mr. Specter."
Harvey froze, the first crack appearing in his certainty. Adriano ignored the interruption and raised a second finger.
"Second, intent. The controlling standard isn't suspicion, it's foreseeability. Internal trust assessments classify investor losses as 'acceptable volatility' once profit thresholds are met. They anticipated the harm, they calculated it, and they proceeded anyway."
He paused.
"That isn't implied intent," he said quietly. "That's constructive intent."
Harvey didn't object, since there was nothing to object to. Adriano lifted his final finger.
"Third, remedy. Two years ago, this court rejected punitive remedies in Lansky v. Armitage, a structurally identical case. You ruled that proportionality governs, not punishment."
He met the judge's eyes. He seemed to read her without her saying anything. A long pause followed. Finally, she nodded.
"I remember."
She didn't deliberate long.
"This court asserts jurisdiction," she said. "The plaintiffs have adequately demonstrated constructive intent. Pearson Hardman's request for injunctive relief is denied."
With a final look at Adriano and a tiny smile, she left the courtroom. Harvey couldn't understand what just happened. He felt as though the case, which was supposed to go in his favour, which couldn't go in his favour, had been stolen from his hands, and he had been punched in the gut.
The case would proceed. Harvey hadn't just lost an argument; there wasn't even an argument to be had. He had lost the battlefield before realising there had been a war at all. This was supposed to be over before it started, and this 'boy' steamrolled him. Him! Harvey Specter.
As the courtroom emptied, Harvey turned to the young man with the yellow suit. Adriano packed nothing, because he had brought nothing with him. He slipped his jacket on slowly, paused and then turned. He approached Harvey with a lazy smile.
"Mr Specter," he said softly. "You were impressive. I don't like working so hard. Your reputation is accurate."
Hard? Was that working hard? What was going on? Harvey thought that he was being made fun of, and he didn't like that. His immense pride and ego were hurt, despite Adriano not having intended it.
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
Adriano tilted his head in confusion and considered the question, not realising or not caring that it was a rhetorical question.
"Just a lawyer," he said. "From a tiny firm."
Then, with a lazy smile and a faint nod of respect, he walked out of the courtroom. His hands in his pockets, already thinking about his next nap. Harvey looked after him, feeling his brain cells dying at the seeming stupidity, and didn't move for a long time.
For the first time in years, he had lost and worse... He had no idea how.
"What the fu--."
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Fair warning here: I don't know anything about the law, especially not in the USA. So all things that concern the legal talk are AI. Anything else, the story around that is either from Suits or mine.
What the MC looks like.