Nadia's POV
I didn't leave my room for hours.
Couldn't face Dominic. Couldn't face the evidence. Couldn't face the truth that my entire life had been built on lies.
When I finally came out, it was dark. Dominic sat at the table, files spread in front of him.
There's leftover dinner in the kitchen, he said without looking up.
I'm not hungry.
You need to eat.
Don't tell me what I need! The words came out sharper than I intended.
He finally looked at me. You're angry. Good. Anger is useful.
I'm not angry. I'm I stopped. Because I was angry. Furious. Sarah was my best friend.
I know.
We met seven years ago. She helped me survive my first year as a public defender. We celebrated birthdays together. Bad breakups. Terrible cases. My voice cracked. How much of it was real?
Probably most of it. People are complicated. She likely did care about you. Just not enough.
That's supposed to make me feel better?
No. It's supposed to help you understand that betrayal is never simple. He pushed a chair out. Sit. I'll heat up the food.
I sat because I didn't have the energy to argue.
He brought me pasta. I ate mechanically, tasting nothing.
When did she start working for Marcus? I asked.
Two years ago. She was a good cop before that. Then Marcus offered her something she wanteda promotion, probably. Better cases. He's good at finding people's weaknesses.
What's my weakness?
You want to belong. Want someone to believe in you. Marcus offered you that. Sarah offered friendship. Judge Rivers offered mentorship. He paused. I'm offering you truth. It's the worst gift, but it's real.
I pushed the pasta away. Show me the rest. Day three evidence. All of it.
You sure?
No. But show me anyway.
He pulled up more files. Security footage of Marcus meeting with Victor Ashford Dominic's father, three months ago. In an underground parking garage, like they were criminals instead of officers of the court.
Marcus handed over an envelope. Victor examined the contents, papers with my handwriting. My case notes on Dominic.
He sold my work to your father, I said flatly.
Yes.
Victor handed Marcus another envelope. Thick. Heavy. Obviously money.
How long has this been going on?
Fifteen years, according to financial records. Dominic pulled up more documents. Victor owns half the courthouse. Judges, prosecutors, cops. He's been buying justice since before you graduated law school.
I stared at the screen. At Marcus's face as he walked away from the meeting, looking satisfied.
He chose me because I was vulnerable, I said. No family. No connections. No one to ask questions if I disappeared.
Yes.
And Sarah helped him.
Yes.
I thought about the parking garage conversation. Sarah looking guilty, uncomfortable. Be careful, Nadia.
She'd known. Known what Marcus was planning. And she'd said nothing.
Can I hear the recording again? I asked.
Dominic played it.
Marcus: We need to discuss the Cross problem.
Sarah: What kind of problem?
Marcus: If she digs too deep, we pivot. Make her the fall guy.
Sarah: She trusts you completely.
Marcus: I know. That's what makes her perfect. No family means no one fights for her.
There was a pause, then Sarah said quietly: She's my friend, Marcus.
She's a means to an end. Don't get sentimental. Do your job and you'll get your promotion to homicide detective.
Another pause. Longer.
Then Sarah: Understood.
The recording ended.
She hesitated, I said. Did you hear that? She hesitated when he said I was just a means to an end.
For about five seconds. Then she agreed.
But she hesitated.
Nadia, she still betrayed you. The hesitation doesn't change that.
He was right. But somehow that five-second pause made it hurt worse. Sarah had known it was wrong. Had felt guilty. And did it anyway.
I need to verify all of this, I said. The financial records, the meetings, everything. I need to see it for myself.
Then verify. He gestured to the computer. Full access. Prove me wrong if you can.
I spent the rest of the night digging.
Marcus's offshore accounts were real. The deposits matched case dismissals perfectly. The meetings with Victor Ashford were documented in security footage from multiple locations.
And Sarah, Detective Sarah Chen, had signed off on evidence reports that were clearly falsified. Had written affidavits claiming she'd witnessed things that never happened.
By dawn, my eyes burned and my head pounded.
But I knew the truth.
Dominic found me still at the computer at 6 AM.
You've been up all night, he said.
It's all real. My voice sounded dead. Every piece of evidence you showed me. It's all real.
I know.
Marcus has been corrupt since before I met him. Sarah's been lying to me for two years. And I was too stupid to see it.
You weren't stupid. You were trusting. There's a difference.
Is there? I looked at him. Because right now, trust feels like the stupidest thing in the world.
He poured two cups of coffee and sat down beside me.
After Elena and Lily died, he said quietly, I stopped trusting anyone. Assumed everyone had an agenda. Everyone was lying. It kept me alive, but it also made me He stopped.
Made you what?
Alone. Completely alone. For eight years. He took a sip of coffee. Trust is dangerous. But so is never trusting anyone again.
Are you saying I should trust you?
No. I'm saying you should trust evidence. Facts. And eventually, if I earn it, maybe me.
We sat in silence, drinking coffee as the sun rose.
There's more, isn't there? I asked. More evidence. More betrayals.
Yes. Day four is about Judge Rivers. He pulled out a file folder. Thick. Heavy. The woman you admired. The judge you wanted to become.
I took the folder with shaking hands.
Read it, Dominic said. Then decide if you still believe in your precious justice system.
I opened it.
The first page was a bank statement. Judge Catherine Rivers. A deposit for five hundred thousand dollars, one week before Dominic's trial.
Source: A shell company owned by Victor Ashford.
I flipped through more pages. Years of payments. Decades of corruption.
She's been on his payroll for twenty years, Dominic said. Since before she became a judge.
Judge Rivers. Who'd told me I did good work. Who'd said some cases can't be won but should still be fought. Who'd been a role model when I had no other role models.
She encouraged my career, I whispered.
She was positioning you. Making sure you'd be in place when Marcus needed a fall guy.
I read through the documents. Case after case where Rivers had ruled in favor of Ashford family interests. Evidence suppressed. Motions denied. Verdicts that made no legal sense.
Every time she was nice to me
She was setting you up.
The folder slipped from my hands.
Marcus. Sarah. Judge Rivers.
The three people I'd trusted most in the world were all criminals.
There's no one left, I said. No one I can trust.
You can trust evidence. Facts. Truth. Dominic picked up the scattered papers. And maybe, eventually, you can trust me.
You kidnapped me.
To save both our lives. There's a difference.
I wanted to argue. Wanted to scream that kidnapping could never be justified.
But he'd been telling me the truth. While everyone else, everyone I'd trusted, had been lying.
What happens next? I asked.
We keep investigating. Keep gathering evidence. In twenty-seven days, I give you the first exit option. One million dollars and your name cleared. You can walk away.
And if I walk away?
Then all evidence of my innocence gets destroyed. The real killer my father, goes free. And an innocent man dies in prison.
You.
Me.
I looked at the files scattered around us. Proof of conspiracy. Proof of corruption. Proof that the justice system I'd believed in was rotten.
I won't walk away, I said.
You might change your mind when you see what's coming.
What's coming?
He pulled up his phone and showed me a news alert.
The headline read: FUGITIVE ATTORNEY NADIA CROSS - ARMED AND DANGEROUS. PUBLIC URGED TO REPORT ANY SIGHTINGS.
Below it was my photo. Doctored to make me look wild-eyed and unstable.
They've escalated, Dominic said. You're not just missing anymore. You're dangerous. Which means if you surface, cops will shoot first and ask questions later.
My hands started shaking.
They want me dead.
They want you silent. But yes, if given the chance, they'll kill you and call it justified.
I stared at my own face on the screen. A stranger. A criminal.
How do we fight this? I whispered.
We don't. Not yet. He closed the phone. We investigate. We gather evidence. And when we have everything, when the case is airtight, we destroy them all at once.
How long will that take?
As long as it takes. Could be days. Could be all 365.
I thought about a full year trapped in this loft. With a man who'd kidnapped me. Hunting for truth while everyone I'd trusted hunted me.
It should have terrified me.
Instead, I felt something unexpected: purpose.
For the first time in my career, I wasn't fighting for an abstract principle. I was fighting for my life. For justice that actually meant something.
Then let's get to work, I said.
Dominic smiled. Not his usual cold smile. Something warmer.
Welcome to the war, Counselor.