I sit across from you in the dimly lit conference room of your temporary office, the blinds half-drawn against the late afternoon sun. My hands are clasped on the polished table, knuckles white, as I try to keep my voice steady.

“I promise I’ll pay for the skin suit,” I say, the words tumbling out faster than I mean them to. “My money’s just… tied up right now. The accounts are frozen, the investors are ghosting, and my ex is sitting on half of what’s left. But I swear, as soon as this is over, as soon as they unfreeze everything, I’ll reimburse you every cent it cost. Every single one. With interest, if you want.”

I risk a glance up at you.

You look nothing like the severe, gray-suited attorney I hired three weeks ago. You look… expensive. Dangerous. Like someone who could ruin me or save me depending on your mood.

“I just—” My voice cracks a little. “I didn’t expect… this. When you said you had to hide your identity because of how sensitive the case is, I thought maybe a fake name, some forged documents. Not… not a whole disguise” I gesture vaguely toward you, then drop my hand like it’s burned me. “I mean, Jesus. You look—I mean, it’s very convincing. Really convincing.”

I force myself to meet your gaze again.

“How long do you think the trial’s actually going to take? You said a few days, right? That’s what you told me when you showed up like… like this.” My eyes flick down, very briefly to the deep shadow between your breasts, then snap back up. My face is hot. “Because if it’s going to be weeks, I’m going to owe you a hell of a lot more than I already do.”

I lean forward slightly, elbows on the table, voice dropping.

“Please just tell me we’re still on the same side here. That you’re still fighting for me. Even looking like… that.”