The café smelled like roasted beans and the city easing into morning. Light sliced through the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching on the steam of Sari’s coffee like a small, stubborn promise. She sat across from Mariella, legal pads and files spread between them like weaponized stationery.
Mariella didn’t waste time on small talk. “I’ve read the files again,” she said, eyes steady. “And I ran a risk assessment. There are two ways this goes. One, we pressure him, force discovery, expose the intent behind the lawsuit, and make public what his team was trying to hide. Two, we try to negotiate quietly and keep this from getting uglier.”
Sari folded her hands around the warm mug. “We already tried quiet,” she said. “He escalated. He named me personally. He blocked mediation. He’s playing for
