Judge Donahue’s bench stood before them, empty yet commanding, its polished surface reflecting the crystal light like justice itself trying to illuminate truth. As Juniper settled her papers with precise movements, each motion a statement of readiness, his entrance transformed the courtroom.

He took his seat with the careful deliberation of someone who understood the weight of each gesture, sharp eyes beneath silver brows surveying the assembled attorneys with quiet intensity. Beneath her professional armor, her skin still hummed with the memory of the elevator’s imprint, of power being discovered and boundaries redefined.

“Good morning, counsel,” he began, his voice carrying that particular tone that made even Roma straighten imperceptibly. “I understand we have several matters to address today, not least of which is the government’s rather… unexpected interest in settlement discussions.”