SHINKI
The door to my office opens and Franklin walks in, his expression as sharp and tailored as his suit. He carries a tablet, his digital shield. He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. He knows I’m not in the mood.
“Shinki,” he says, taking the seat across from my desk. “I’ve read the filing. It’s aggressive, I’ll give her that. Baseless, but aggressive.”
I steeple my fingers, the picture of calm now. The venting is over. The calculation has begun. “She is attempting to reframe a sound business decision as a personal, criminal vendetta. She’s using the court of public opinion as her primary weapon. We need to disarm her. Legally, and publicly.”
Franklin nods, tapping his tablet. “We have several paths. One: We file a motion to dismiss. Argue her suit fails to state a valid claim. It’
