The next morning, Jessica Pearson walked into the firm with the usual purpose that made associates scatter. She was halfway to her office when she stopped dead.
The wall. The firm's name. Saint Pearson Hardman.
It was wrong.
The polished brass letters for "Hardman" were gone. A faint, clean rectangle was all that remained. It looked like a missing tooth.
Her blood ran cold. She didn't walk to her office. She turned and marched straight to Franklin's, her heels hitting the marble like gunshots. She didn't knock. She threw the door open.
He was at his desk, sipping a coffee, looking as calm as if he'd just ordered new pens.
"What did you do?" Her voice was low, dangerous.
Franklin looked up, his expression unreadable. "Good morning to you too, Jessica."
She pointed a sharp finger back towards the lobby. "The wall, Franklin. Hardman's name. It's gone. You don't get to just remove a name partner's name from the firm without talking to me!"
"I just did," he said, taking another sip.
"Why?" she demanded, striding to his desk and planting her hands on it. "You want to explain to me why I walk into my firm and find you've started a war without consulting me?"
"Because it's not a war," Franklin said, placing his cup down with a soft click. "It's an execution. And I'm the one holding the axe."
Jessica stared at him, her mind racing. "An execution? What are you talking about?"
"Daniel Hardman," Franklin said, the name dropping between them like a block of ice. "I'm going to sue him. Personally. For conspiracy, for fraud, for the intentional infliction of emotional distress... I'm going to throw the entire library at him until one of the books sticks."
Jessica let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "You're going to sue him? Franklin, look at me. You cannot sue a name partner of this firm! Do you have any idea how that looks? The scandal? It would tear this place apart! The clients would flee. We'd be a laughingstock!"
"He won't be a name partner for long," Franklin said, his voice chillingly calm. "And I don't care how it looks."
"Then care about this firm! Care about the people who work here! This isn't one of your games!" she snapped.
"This hasn't been a game for a long time, Jessica." He stood up, and for the first time, she saw the raw, untamed fury in his eyes. It was a side of him he always kept locked away. "He had a hand in my parents' death."
The air went out of the room. Jessica took a half-step back. "What?"
"You heard me. The 'robbery' that killed my mother and father wasn't a robbery. It was a hit. And Daniel Hardman gave the order."
Jessica's professional anger evaporated, replaced by a cold dread. "Franklin... that's a hell of an accusation. Do you have proof?"
"I have a trail," he said, his gaze unwavering. "A trail of money and bodies that leads right to his doorstep. He thought he was being clever, using a lawsuit against my company to poke the bear. He wanted to see if I was still looking. Well, now he knows."
He walked around the desk, stopping directly in front of her. "So I'm not asking for your permission, Jessica. I'm suing him. I'm taking his name off my wall, I'm taking his money, and I am going to use every resource, every trick, every single ounce of my being to bury him. And God help him, Jessica, if I find the proof I need before the trial... God help him, because I might just kill him myself and save the state the trouble."
The quiet conviction in his voice was more terrifying than any shout. She believed him. She believed every word.
"Franklin, you can't talk like that," she said, her voice hushed. "You're a lawyer."
"Right now," he whispered, "I'm their son."
They stood in silence for a long moment. The managing partner and the prodigy, the foundation of her firm cracking beneath her feet.
"What do you need from me?" she finally asked, her voice resigned.
"Stay out of my way," he said. "And when the shit hits the fan, remember which side of the wall you're on."
"He's a name partner, Franklin. I have a duty—"
"Your duty is to this firm!" he shot back, his control snapping for a second. "And he is a cancer in it! I am cutting it out. You can either help me, or you can get swept up in the fallout. Your choice."
He turned his back on her, a clear dismissal. The conversation was over.
Jessica stood there for another ten seconds, her mind a whirlwind of panic and calculation. Then, without another word, she turned and left, closing the door softly behind her.
She walked back to her office in a daze. She sat at her desk, her hands flat on the polished wood, and tried to breathe.
A lawsuit. Between name partners. It was unheard of. It was catastrophic.
Her intercom buzzed. "Ms. Pearson? Louis Litt is here to see you. He says it's urgent."
She almost told Donna to send him away. But she needed a distraction. "Send him in."
Louis burst in, his face a mask of frantic energy. "Jessica! Have you seen it? The wall! Hardman's name is gone! What's happening? Is the firm being rebranded? Am I finally being considered for—"
"Louis," Jessica interrupted, her voice tired. "Sit down."
He sat, leaning forward eagerly. "So? What's the play?"
"The 'play,' Louis," she said, choosing her words with extreme care, "is that Franklin has uncovered... discrepancies... in Daniel's past conduct. He believes Daniel has been acting against the interests of the firm."
Louis's eyes widened. "A conflict? With Hardman? This is huge! What kind of discrepancies? Financial? Ethical? Tell me it's sexual, those are always the juiciest."
"It's serious, Louis," Jessica said, shutting him down. "And it's going to get messy. I need you to keep a lid on the associates. I don't want panic in the ranks. Can you do that?"
"Of course! I am the master of morale! I will be a bastion of calm and stability!" Louis proclaimed, already looking anything but calm.
"Good. Now, I have work to do."
Louis practically bounced out of her office, already scheming how to use this to his advantage.
Jessica picked up her phone. She had to get ahead of this. She started dialing the number for their most important client, but her finger paused over the last digit.
Her door opened again. She looked up, ready to snap at whoever it was.
It was Harvey. He stood in her doorway, his arms crossed, his expression grim.
"Donna just told me Louis was in here hyperventilating about the wall," he said, not moving from the threshold. "Is it true?"
Jessica put the phone down. "It's true."
Harvey stepped inside and closed the door. "Why?"
Jessica let out a long, weary breath. "Franklin thinks Hardman was involved in his parents' murder."
Harvey didn't flinch. He just absorbed the information, his lawyer's mind already processing the implications. "Does he have proof?"
"He says he has a trail."
"And he's going after him."
"With everything he's got," Jessica confirmed. "He's going to sue him, Harvey. Personally."
A slow, grim smile spread across Harvey's face. "Well," he said. "I always knew that kid was a shark. I just didn't know he was a great white." He looked at Jessica. "So. Where does that leave us?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," she said. "This firm is about to become a battlefield. We need to choose a side."
Harvey didn't hesitate. "Franklin's the future. Hardman's the past." He walked over to her window, looking out at the city. "Besides, you don't bet against Franklin Saint when he's got a scent of blood. It's bad for your health."
Down the hall, in his now-immaculate office, Franklin stood by his own window. The name was off the wall. The first move was made.
His phone rang. He answered it without looking.
"It's done," his investigator's voice said. "We served Daniel Hardman with the lawsuit at his home twenty minutes ago."
Franklin allowed himself a small, cold smile. "Good."
"He's not going to take this lying down," the investigator warned.
"I'm counting on it," Franklin said. "Let him come. I've been waiting for this fight my whole life."
He ended the call. The game was on. And for the first time since he was sixteen years old, Franklin Saint felt truly, completely alive.
The intercom on his desk buzzed. Donna's voice, unusually tense, came through. "Franklin? Daniel Hardman is on line one for you."
Franklin's smile widened. He walked back to his desk, his movements fluid and deliberate. He pressed the button.
"Daniel," he said, his voice pleasant, almost cheerful. "I was wondering when you'd call."