The meeting with Hexagon's CEO, Thomas Crawford, was scheduled for 9 AM in one of Pearson Hardman's smaller conference rooms. Marcus arrived at 8:30 to set up, making sure the presentation was loaded, the materials were organized, and the room looked professional.
Louis arrived at 8:45, looking nervous.
"Crawford's a hard-ass," Louis warned, straightening his tie for the third time. "He doesn't tolerate bullshit, and he doesn't like losing. If he thinks we can't win this case, he'll settle with Morrison and blame us for the bad outcome."
"Then we make sure he thinks we can win," Marcus said calmly.
"Can we win?"
Marcus looked at Louis directly. "Yes. But Crawford needs to believe it, too. Let me take the lead on this."
Louis hesitated. "Marcus, he's expecting to hear from me. I'm the junior partner—"
"And I'm the one who's spent the past forty-eight hours living and breathing this case," Marcus interrupted. "You hired me to win. Let me do my job."
After a moment, Louis nodded. "Fine. But don't make me look bad."
"I won't."
Thomas Crawford arrived at exactly 9 AM, flanked by his CFO and general counsel. He was a man in his late fifties with steel-gray hair and the kind of permanent scowl that suggested he'd built his fortune by trusting no one.
"Louis," Crawford said, shaking hands with minimal warmth. "I hope you have good news for me."
"We do," Louis said. "This is Marcus Cole, my associate. He's been leading the strategy on your case."
Crawford's eyes shifted to Marcus, an immediate, harsh assessment. "You look young."
"I am young," Marcus said, extending his hand. "But I'm also very good at what I do. Shall we?"
Crawford's handshake was testing, strong enough to be borderline aggressive. Marcus matched it without flinching.
They sat, and Marcus pulled up his presentation on the screen.
"Mr. Crawford, the situation is straightforward," Marcus began. "Morrison Steel is suing for fifteen million based on alleged breach of your supply contract. They claim you failed to pay for delivered materials. We're going to prove they breached first through systematic failure to deliver on time, which voids your payment obligations."
"How certain are you of that defense?" Crawford asked.
"Completely certain," Marcus said. "Morrison has been late on sixty-three percent of deliveries over the past eighteen months. Average delay: twelve days. We have documentation of every single instance."
"Late deliveries don't necessarily constitute breach," the general counsel interjected. "Industry standards—"
"Industry standard is six to eight weeks for steel products of this specification," Marcus interrupted smoothly. "Morrison was consistently taking ten to twelve weeks. That's not within industry standards, that's chronic underperformance."
He pulled up a chart showing the delivery timeline compared to industry benchmarks. The visual was damning.
"Moreover," Marcus continued, "we found language in a side letter from three years ago where Morrison explicitly agreed that timely delivery was 'of the essence' for your business relationship. That language was never superseded or removed, which means it applies to the entire ongoing contract."
Crawford leaned forward, studying the screen. "Morrison agreed to that?"
"In writing," Marcus confirmed. "We have the signed side letter. Their counsel probably doesn't even know it exists because it's buried in old correspondence. But it exists, and it supports our material breach argument."
"What's our likelihood of winning on summary judgment?" Crawford asked.
"Sixty percent," Marcus said honestly. "Judge Sanchez tends to favor strict contractual performance, which works in our favor. But Morrison will argue good faith performance and industry norms. It's winnable, but not guaranteed."
"And if we go to trial?"
"Seventy-five percent," Marcus said. "A trial lets us put your production managers on the stand to testify about the concrete damages Morrison's delays caused. We can show the jury actual numbers: lost production time, missed deadlines, and customer complaints. Morrison can argue industry standards all they want, but they can't argue away eight million in documented damages."
Crawford was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
"Who's representing Morrison?" he asked.
"Harvey Specter," Louis said, and Marcus caught the slight edge of anxiety in his voice.
Crawford's eyes narrowed. "Harvey Specter? The Harvey Specter?"
"Yes, sir," Louis said.
"And you think you can beat him?" Crawford asked, looking directly at Marcus.
Marcus didn't hesitate. "I know I can beat him."
"How?"
"Because Harvey's approach is predictable," Marcus said. "He'll argue that Morrison delivered a quality product, that delays were minimal and within industry norms, that Hexagon is using technicalities to avoid paying legitimate debts. It's a strong argument, but it's also conventional. He's relying on his reputation to intimidate us into settling."
"And your approach?"
"We go on offense," Marcus said. "We don't just defend against Morrison's claims—we attack their entire business model. We show that Morrison chronically overpromises and underdelivers. We subpoena their delivery records for other clients and prove this is a pattern, not an isolated incident. We make this case about Morrison's systemic failures, not about one contract dispute."
Crawford smiled for the first time. "That's aggressive."
"That's necessary," Marcus corrected. "Morrison is counting on you being afraid of Harvey Specter. They're counting on a quick settlement because fighting is expensive and risky. We take that option off the table by making it clear we're not afraid, and we're prepared to win."
The CFO spoke up. "What's your settlement recommendation?"
"We don't settle," Marcus said flatly.
Louis's head snapped toward him. "Marcus—"
"We don't settle," Marcus repeated, looking at Crawford. "Morrison is demanding fifteen million for a contract they systematically breached. Settling sends a message that you can be bullied into paying money you don't owe. That's bad for business and worse for your reputation."
"But if we lose at trial—" the general counsel started.
"We won't lose," Marcus interrupted. "And even if we did—which we won't—the worst-case scenario is you pay the fifteen million you'd pay in settlement anyway. But the upside of winning is that you pay nothing, and you establish that Hexagon Energy doesn't get pushed around. That's worth the risk."
Crawford studied Marcus for a long, tense moment. Then he turned to Louis.
"Is he always like this?" Crawford asked.
"Yes," Louis said, sounding somewhere between proud and terrified.
Crawford laughed, a genuine sound that transformed his face. "Good. I like him. Louis, tell me honestly: can he win this case?"
Louis didn't hesitate this time. "Yes. He can."
"Then we don't settle," Crawford said, standing up. "Prepare for trial. Beat Harvey Specter. And when you do, I'll make sure everyone in the industry knows that Pearson Hardman doesn't back down."
He shook Marcus's hand again, this time with something approaching respect.
"Don't make me regret this, Mr. Cole."
"You won't, sir."
After Crawford and his team left, Louis collapsed into a chair.
"Do you have any idea what you just committed us to?" Louis asked.
"Winning," Marcus said simply. "Which is what we're going to do."
"Harvey's going to come at us with everything he has."
"Good. Let him." Marcus started packing up his materials. "The more aggressive Harvey gets, the more mistakes he'll make. Overconfidence is a weakness, Louis. We're going to exploit it."
The next two weeks were a blur of preparation. Marcus worked eighteen-hour days, reviewing every piece of evidence, drafting and redrafting motions, and preparing examination questions for witnesses. He memorized Morrison's entire corporate history, identified weaknesses in their delivery systems, and built a case that was airtight.
Louis helped where he could, but mostly he stayed out of Marcus's way and handled client relations. It was a good division of labor; Louis kept Crawford happy while Marcus built the legal strategy.
Harvey and Mike were equally busy on the other side. Marcus saw them occasionally in the hallways, in the library, and at the coffee station. There was always a moment of recognition, a brief acknowledgment of the impending battle, and then they'd move on.
Mike had stayed true to their agreement. No sabotage, no dirty tricks. Just professional competition.
Marcus respected that.
Ten days before trial, Marcus filed their motion for summary judgment. It was a masterpiece, forty pages of legal argument supported by case law, contractual analysis, and irrefutable evidence of Morrison's systematic breaches.
Harvey filed his opposition three days later. It was good work, Marcus had to admit. Harvey argued that delays were minimal and within industry standards, that Hexagon had continued accepting deliveries without objection for months, and that the "timely delivery" language in the side letter applied only to one shipment and didn't extend to the entire contract.
The arguments were strong. But they weren't stronger than Marcus's.
The summary judgment hearing was scheduled for the following Monday. Judge Sanchez would hear both sides and decide whether the case could be resolved without a full trial.
Marcus spent the weekend preparing his oral argument, anticipating every question the judge might ask, every objection Harvey might raise. By Sunday night, he was ready.
He arrived at the courthouse Monday morning at 8 AM, dressed in his best suit—navy blue, crisp white shirt, burgundy tie. Louis met him in the hallway outside the courtroom, looking nervous.
"You ready for this?" Louis asked.
"I was born ready for this," Marcus said.
Harvey and Mike arrived ten minutes later. Harvey looked relaxed, confident, like this was just another day at the office. Mike looked tense, his eyes constantly scanning the hallway.
"Marcus," Harvey said with a nod. "Louis."
"Harvey," Louis replied. "Mike."
The four of them stood in awkward silence until the courtroom doors opened.
Judge Sanchez was a woman in her early sixties with sharp eyes and a reputation for not tolerating nonsense. She took the bench at exactly 9 AM and looked down at the assembled lawyers with an expression that suggested she'd already decided this case was wasting her time.
"Gentlemen," she said. "This is a motion for summary judgment in Morrison Steel v. Hexagon Energy. Mr. Cole, you're moving for summary judgment. Make your argument."
Marcus stood, buttoning his jacket as he approached the podium.
"Thank you, Your Honor. This case is fundamentally about contract performance. Morrison Steel claims that Hexagon Energy breached by failing to pay for delivered materials. But the evidence shows Morrison breached first through systematic failure to deliver on time, which voids Hexagon's payment obligations."
"Mr. Specter argues that slight delays don't constitute material breach," Judge Sanchez said. "Why is he wrong?"
"Because these weren't slight delays, Your Honor," Marcus said. "Morrison was late on sixty-three percent of deliveries over eighteen months. The cumulative delays cost Hexagon eight million dollars in lost production time. More importantly, Morrison explicitly agreed in a signed side letter that timely delivery was 'of the essence' for their business relationship. That language makes any delay material."
"That side letter was specific to one shipment three years ago," Harvey interjected, standing up.
"Mr. Specter, you'll have your turn," Judge Sanchez said sharply. "Sit down."
Harvey sat, but his jaw was tight.
"Continue, Mr. Cole," the judge said.
"The side letter language was never superseded or removed, Your Honor. Morrison agreed that timely delivery was essential, but then systematically delivered late. That's textbook material breach. Under Jacob & Youngs v. Kent and its progeny, material breach occurs when the non-breaching party doesn't receive the substantial benefit of the bargain. Hexagon contracted for timely delivery. They didn't get it. Morrison breached. Summary judgment should be granted in Hexagon's favor."
Judge Sanchez made a note. "Mr. Specter, your response?"
Harvey stood, and Marcus could see the shift in his demeanor, Harvey in his element, confident and commanding.
"Your Honor, my client delivered quality steel products according to specification. Yes, there were occasional delays, but those delays were minimal and within industry standards. Mr. Cole is trying to void a fifteen-million-dollar contract over timing issues that Hexagon itself didn't consider material at the time; they continued accepting deliveries for months without objection."
"The continued acceptance doesn't waive the breach," Marcus interjected.
"Mr. Cole, I'll ask the questions," Judge Sanchez said. "Mr. Specter, address the side letter language about timely delivery being 'of the essence.'"
"That language was specific to one rush order, Your Honor," Harvey said. "It was never intended to apply to the entire ongoing contract relationship. Mr. Cole is taking language out of context to manufacture a breach that doesn't exist."
"The side letter doesn't specify it's limited to one order," Marcus said. "The language is clear: timely delivery is of the essence. Period. If Morrison wanted to limit that language, they should have drafted it more carefully."
Judge Sanchez looked between them, her expression thoughtful.
"Here's my problem, gentlemen," she said. "Mr. Cole, you have strong evidence of systematic delays. But Mr. Specter is right that Hexagon continued accepting deliveries without objection, which suggests they didn't consider the delays material. Mr. Specter, you're arguing industry standards, but you're ignoring explicit contractual language about timely delivery. I'm not convinced either of you has met the summary judgment standard."
Marcus felt a spike of frustration. She was going to deny the motion and force them to trial.
"However," Judge Sanchez continued, "I am concerned about Mr. Cole's argument regarding the side letter. Mr. Specter, do you have any evidence that the 'timely delivery' language was intended to be limited in scope?"
Harvey hesitated for just a fraction of a second. "Not explicit evidence, Your Honor, but the context—"
"Context isn't evidence," Judge Sanchez interrupted. "Mr. Cole, do you have the original side letter?"
"Yes, Your Honor." Marcus pulled it from his file and handed it to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge.
Judge Sanchez read it carefully, her eyes scanning every word.
"This language is clear," she said finally. "Morrison agreed that timely delivery was 'of the essence for the ongoing business relationship between the parties.' That's not limited to one order, that's a general statement about the entire contract."
Harvey's expression tightened.
"Motion for summary judgment is granted," Judge Sanchez said. "Morrison Steel's claim is dismissed with prejudice. Hexagon Energy is entitled to a setoff for damages caused by Morrison's breaches. I'll expect proposed findings of fact and conclusions of law within seven days. We're adjourned."
She banged her gavel, and the courtroom went silent.
Marcus felt the rush of victory flood through him. They'd won. Summary judgment. Complete victory. Harvey hadn't even gotten a chance to present his case to a jury.
Louis grabbed Marcus's arm, his grip almost painful with excitement. "We won. Oh my God, we actually won."
Across the aisle, Harvey was packing up his materials with controlled precision. Mike looked stunned, like he couldn't quite process what had just happened.
As they walked out of the courtroom, Harvey caught up with Marcus in the hallway.
"Nice work," Harvey said, and he sounded like it physically pained him to admit it.
"Thank you," Marcus said. "You made it competitive."
"Don't let it go to your head," Harvey said. "You got lucky with that side letter. If we'd found it first—"
"But you didn't," Marcus interrupted. "Because I was more thorough. That's not luck, Harvey. That's preparation."
Harvey's eyes hardened. "We're not done, Marcus. This was one case. There will be others."
"I'm counting on it," Marcus said. "I enjoy beating you."
He walked away before Harvey could respond, feeling Louis practically vibrating with excitement beside him.
They made it to the elevator before Louis started laughing.
"Did you see his face?" Louis said. "Harvey Specter, speechless. I've been waiting years for that moment."
"Savor it," Marcus said. "Because he's going to come back harder next time."
"Let him. We have you."
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped in. As they descended, Marcus caught his reflection in the polished steel. He looked the same as always—composed, professional, confident.
But inside, he felt something he hadn't felt in months: validation.
His abilities worked. His strategy worked. He could compete against the best and win.
This was just the beginning.
The firm-wide email from Jessica Pearson came through twenty minutes after they returned to the office:
Subject: Morrison Steel v. Hexagon Energy
Congratulations to Louis Litt and Marcus Cole on securing summary judgment in the Morrison Steel matter. Excellent work.
- Jessica Pearson, Managing Partner
Within an hour, Marcus's desk was flooded with congratulations from other associates, paralegals, and even a few senior partners. The victory had reverberated through the entire firm.
Marcus handled it with professional grace, thanking people and deflecting credit to Louis when appropriate. But inside, he was already thinking ahead.
One victory didn't make a career. He needed more. More cases, more wins, more proof that he was exactly as good as he claimed to be.
His phone buzzed. A text from Mike:
Congratulations. You earned it. - M.R.
Marcus typed back:
Thanks. See you in the next one.
He was about to put his phone away when Louis appeared at his desk, holding a file.
"Marcus, I need you on something," Louis said. "Solo case. No Harvey involvement."
"What is it?" Marcus asked, taking the file.
"Fletcher Industries. They're being sued by a competitor for patent infringement. The plaintiff claims Fletcher stole their design for an industrial valve system. Trial is in six weeks."
Marcus opened the file, and his mind immediately started cataloguing the details. Patent law, technical specifications, prior art analysis, expert witnesses.
"Why solo?" Marcus asked.
"Because I trust you," Louis said simply. "You just beat Harvey Specter. You can handle this on your own."
Marcus looked up at Louis, seeing genuine confidence in his expression.
"I'll win it," Marcus said.
"I know you will." Louis smiled. "Get to work."
As Louis walked away, Marcus dove into the Fletcher Industries file. Patent infringement cases were technical and complex, requiring meticulous attention to detail.
Perfect for someone with perfect recall and an obsessive work ethic.
Marcus started reading, and within minutes, he'd already identified three potential defenses and two weaknesses in the plaintiff's case.
This was going to be interesting.
Six hours later, Marcus had read every page of the Fletcher Industries file. The situation was more complicated than he'd initially thought.
The plaintiff, Meridian Tech, claimed that Fletcher had stolen their patented design for an industrial valve system used in petroleum refining. The designs were similar, similar enough that it looked suspicious. But "similar" wasn't the same as "stolen."
Marcus needed to prove either that Fletcher had developed their design independently or that Meridian's patent was invalid due to prior art.
He started with the prior art search, pulling every patent filing related to industrial valves from the past twenty years. His perfect recall enabled him to cross-reference thousands of documents in hours, looking for designs that predated Meridian's patent and shared similar features.
By midnight, he'd found something.
A 2003 patent filing, three years before Meridian's patent, described a valve design with several key features that Meridian claimed were unique to its invention. The patent had been filed by a small engineering firm in Texas that had since gone out of business, which explained why no one had found it before.
This was exactly what Marcus needed.
If he could prove that Meridian's patent incorporated features from the 2003 prior art, he could argue that Meridian's patent was invalid or, at a minimum, that its scope didn't cover Fletcher's design.
Marcus drafted a motion to invalidate Meridian's patent based on prior art, supported by a detailed technical analysis comparing the 2003 filing to Meridian's patent. It was complex work, requiring him to understand engineering specifications and translate them into legal arguments.
But Marcus had always been good at seeing patterns, making connections, and building arguments from disparate pieces of information. His abilities just made him faster and more precise.
He worked through the night, stopping only for coffee and bathroom breaks. By 6 AM, he had a complete motion ready to file.
He sent it to Louis with a note:
Fletcher Industries is motion-ready. Filing today. This case is winnable.
Louis responded within minutes:
It's 6 AM. Did you sleep?
Marcus typed back:
Sleep is for people who aren't trying to build a reputation.
He filed the motion electronically, then headed home for a shower and a change of clothes. He'd be back in the office by 9 AM, ready to handle whatever came next.