I Was gonna post one chapter every 2 to 3 days .But since there are a lot of reviews and I cant just post 3 or 4 chapters a day .I will be posting one chapter a day for week or 2 weeks
Thank you for the good reviews .If you are worried that this fanfic will be dropped it wont .
Since all it need is one patreon member to make it weekly updated (it got few members already ) and I have the outlines for the next 80 chapters.
CHAPTER 4: THE LOUIS OPTION - PART TWO
Monday morning, Day 12, I walked into Louis's office with another color-coded binder.
This one was thinner than the Dennison analysis—only forty pages—but the findings were just as comprehensive. Morrison Financial's securities compliance review, every regulation cross-checked, every potential violation flagged and categorized.
Louis was eating breakfast at his desk again. Some kind of breakfast burrito, coffee steaming beside it. He looked up when I knocked, and something in his expression had changed since last week.
Less suspicion. More expectation.
"Morrison Financial?"
"Complete. Found twelve compliance issues across three categories. Nothing deal-breaking, but two require immediate remediation before the next SEC filing cycle."
I set the binder on his desk.
Louis wiped his hands on a napkin, opened the binder, and started reading. His eyes moved faster this time—already trusting the format, the organization, the thoroughness.
After five minutes, he closed it.
"You found the FINRA reporting gap."
"Section 4210 margin requirements. They've been calculating collateral wrong for six months."
"That's a fine if SEC catches it."
"Seven figures, probably. Mitigation strategy is included—corrected calculations, amended filings, and a compliance audit to show good faith."
Louis leaned back in his chair, studying me.
"Two assignments. Both completed ahead of schedule. Both thorough enough that I could present them to clients without additional review."
I waited.
"You're not like the other associates."
"Is that good or bad?"
Louis's smile was small and genuine.
"It's useful. Which is better."
He stood, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.
"Come with me. We're presenting this to Morrison's CFO in an hour."
My stomach dropped.
"Presenting? I'm a first-year—"
"You did the work. You'll explain it."
Morrison Financial's offices were in Midtown, all glass and steel and the kind of modern architecture that looked expensive because it was. Louis and I took a cab, stuck in traffic on Sixth Avenue while he reviewed his notes.
"CFO's name is David Park. Smart guy, ex-Silicon Valley, hates corporate lawyer bullshit. Be direct."
"How direct?"
"Don't sugarcoat the compliance issues. He'll respect honesty more than diplomacy."
The cab dropped us off at the building entrance. We rode the elevator to the thirty-second floor in silence.
First client meeting. First presentation. First chance to completely embarrass myself in front of Louis and a major client.
The System pulsed.
[WIN RATE CALCULATOR: ACTIVATED]
[QUERY: SUCCESSFUL CLIENT PRESENTATION PROBABILITY]
[PROCESSING...]
[PROBABILITY: 67% (±18%)]
[FACTORS: THOROUGH PREPARATION, CLIENT PREFERENCES UNKNOWN, PRESENTATION SKILL UNTESTED]
Sixty-seven percent. Better than a coin flip.
The elevator doors opened.
Morrison Financial's reception area was elegant in that understated tech-company way—minimalist furniture, abstract art, a receptionist who smiled with practiced warmth.
"Mr. Litt, Mr. Park is expecting you. Conference room three."
Louis led the way. I followed, binder under my arm, mentally rehearsing the presentation.
Don't oversell. Don't undersell. Just explain the issues clearly and let the work speak for itself.
David Park was younger than I'd expected—early forties, dress shirt with no tie, the kind of casual confidence that came from building and selling companies. He stood when we entered, shook Louis's hand, then mine.
"David Park. You must be the associate Louis mentioned."
"Scott Roden. I handled the compliance review."
We sat. Louis opened his tablet, pulled up the digital version of my analysis.
"David, we've completed the securities compliance review you requested. Scott found twelve issues across three regulatory categories. Most are minor, but two require immediate attention."
Park's expression didn't change.
"How immediate?"
I spoke before Louis could.
"Your FINRA margin requirement calculations have been wrong for six months. Section 4210 collateral requirements—you're calculating based on pre-2020 regulations. If SEC audits before you correct it, you're looking at seven-figure fines."
Park's jaw tightened.
"How did that happen?"
"Software update didn't reflect regulatory changes. Your compliance team is using the right process but the wrong formula."
"Can we fix it?"
"Yes. Amended filings, corrected calculations going forward, and a voluntary compliance audit to show good faith. Should limit exposure if SEC notices before you finish corrections."
Park looked at Louis.
"Is he always this direct?"
Louis's smile was thin.
"I told you he'd be useful."
Park turned back to me.
"What's the other critical issue?"
I flipped the binder to the yellow-tabbed section.
"Form CRS disclosure language is technically compliant but practically misleading. SEC's been cracking down on 'technically true but misleading' disclosures. Your current language passes legal review but fails the 'reasonable investor' standard they're applying in enforcement actions."
"Show me."
I walked him through the specific clauses, the enforcement actions I'd cross-referenced, the recommended rewrites that would maintain legal compliance while improving clarity.
Park took notes on his tablet, asked smart questions, challenged two of my recommendations with valid counterarguments that made me revise my mitigation strategies in real-time.
By the end of the hour, he was nodding.
"This is good work. Very good work. Louis, I want him on our quarterly compliance reviews going forward."
Louis's expression remained neutral, but his voice carried satisfaction.
"I'll make sure Scott's available."
Park stood, shook both our hands again.
"Seriously. Most associates from big firms give me boilerplate analysis and fifty-page memos I'll never read. This?" He tapped the binder. "This is actually useful."
The cab ride back to Pearson Hardman was quieter.
Louis stared out the window at Manhattan traffic, expression unreadable.
Finally, he spoke.
"You handled that well."
"Thank you."
"Park's a difficult client. Hates corporate lawyers, hates billable hour padding, hates anything that feels like lawyer theater."
"I noticed."
Louis turned to look at me.
"You didn't try to impress him. You just explained the problems and the solutions."
"That's what he needed."
Silence stretched between us.
Then Louis said something I wasn't expecting.
"You made me look good again. Twice in one week."
I didn't respond immediately. Let the weight of it sit.
This is the moment. The shift.
"That's what associates are supposed to do," I finally said. "Make their mentors look good."
Louis's smile was small and genuine.
"Most associates don't understand that. They think their job is to look good themselves."
"Looking good comes from making the team succeed."
The cab pulled up to Pearson Hardman. We got out, walked through the lobby in silence.
At the elevator, Louis pressed the button and turned to me.
"You're not just an associate anymore, Roden. You're my associate."
There it is.
"I'm honored, Mr. Litt."
"Don't be honored. Be ready to work harder than you've ever worked. I don't accept mediocrity."
"Understood."
The elevator doors opened. We stepped inside.
And for the first time since I'd walked into Pearson Hardman two weeks ago, I felt like I'd found my path.
Not Harvey's golden mentorship. Not Jessica's headhunted elite.
Something different.
Something built on competence, thoroughness, and proving that the lawyer everyone avoided was actually the smartest person in the firm.
By that afternoon, the associate gossip network had processed the news.
Kyle Durant stopped by my desk again, this time without the nervous laughter.
"Heard you went to a client meeting with Litt. As a first-year."
"Morrison Financial. Compliance review."
"That's... unusual. Louis doesn't usually bring associates to clients."
"I did the work. He wanted me to present it."
Kyle sat on the edge of my desk, voice dropping to something more serious.
"You're actually building a practice with Louis Litt."
"I'm learning from someone who's brilliant at financial law. That's worth more than proximity to Harvey's celebrity."
Kyle studied me for a long moment, then shook his head.
"Most people wouldn't see it that way."
"Most people are competing to be Harvey's second choice. I'm not interested in being anyone's backup."
He left without responding.
I went back to my work—another assignment from Louis, this one involving securities compliance for a tech startup going through Series C funding.
The System cataloged the interaction automatically.
[REPUTATION UPDATE: ASSOCIATE PERCEPTION SHIFTING]
[KYLE DURANT: REASSESSING STRATEGY]
[LOUIS LITT RELATIONSHIP: MENTOR STATUS CONFIRMED]
[HARVEY SPECTER RELATIONSHIP: STILL DISMISSIVE - NO CHANGE]
That last line stung more than it should have.
Harvey still hadn't acknowledged my existence beyond that first dismissal. Still gave his attention to Mike Ross. Still acted like I was furniture.
But I don't need Harvey anymore.
I had Louis. I had a path forward. I had proof that thoroughness and competence could build a career just as well as charisma and improvisation.
That evening, I stayed late again—not because I had to, but because the work was interesting and I wanted to understand the securities regulations thoroughly enough to explain them to clients.
The bullpen emptied around me. Mike left with Harvey at six-thirty, laughing about something. Jennifer Park left at seven, making a show of her dedication. Kyle left at eight.
I stayed until ten, then walked home through Manhattan streets that felt less hostile now.
Two weeks at Pearson Hardman. One mentor secured. One path forward established.
The System ran its calculations in the background, updating probabilities, cataloging relationships, organizing information for future use.
And somewhere in the quiet hum of its analysis, I felt something that might've been pride.
I'm building this. My way. Without shortcuts. Without fraud.
Just competence, preparation, and refusing to quit.
The city lights blurred past as I walked, and I smiled.
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