Marcus Cole had never walked into a room he didn't own.
Not literally, though, give him a few years and the right cases, and that would change, too. But the moment he stepped through the glass doors of Pearson Hardman, every eye in the reception area turned toward him. Not because he was loud or flashy, but because he moved through space like gravity bent around him instead of the other way around.
The receptionist looked up from her computer, started to give him the standard "can I help you" smile, and faltered when he met her eyes.
"Marcus Cole. I have a three o'clock with Louis Litt." He said it as if he were informing her of a fact, not asking for permission.
"Of course, Mr. Cole. If you'll just—"
"I know where his office is." Marcus had memorized the entire floor plan of Pearson Hardman before he'd even applied. Thirtieth floor, interior office, not the corner, not the prestigious real estate, but still respectable. Louis Litt was senior partner material trapped in a senior associate's reputation, and Marcus had done his homework.
He walked past her desk without waiting for a response, his footsteps measured and confident on the polished marble floor. The suit he wore was custom-tailored, charcoal gray with subtle pinstripes, because if you were going to walk into the kingdom, you damn well better look like you belonged in the castle.
The abilities had started six months ago, and Marcus had decided within a week that they weren't a curse or a gift; they were simply tools. And Marcus Cole knew exactly what to do with tools.
The perfect recall had come first. Every case he'd ever read, every statute, every legal precedent, all of it accessible in an instant, cross-referenced and indexed like he'd swallowed a law library and it had reorganized itself into something useful. He could trace arguments through centuries of jurisprudence in seconds, see how legal theories built on one another, and predict how judges would rule based on their entire career histories.
The lie detection followed a week later. Someone spoke, and he knew if they were telling the truth: no uncertainty, no hesitation, just crystal-clear awareness of whether words matched reality.
Most people would have been terrified by that. Marcus had smiled and immediately started planning how to use it.
The third ability, the one he'd only tested three times but had already proven devastatingly effective, was the nuclear option. Contracts he drafted and had willingly signed became something more than paper. They became binding in ways that transcended the legal system. Break the terms, and the universe itself seemed to object. Nothing supernatural, nothing obvious, just a cascade of perfectly timed misfortunes that continued until the contract was honored.
Marcus had used it once on a landlord who'd tried to keep his security deposit. The man's car had been towed, his business accounts had been frozen due to "clerical errors," and a health inspection had shut down his property for two weeks—all within seventy-two hours of violating the agreement Marcus had drafted.
The landlord had paid up. And Marcus had learned that he was holding something far more powerful than a law degree.
Louis Litt's office was smaller than what Marcus had expected for a Junior partner, considering Harvey's in the show, but it was immaculate. Every file was organized, every surface clean, every diploma and award positioned perfectly on the walls. It screamed insecurity masked as precision.
Louis himself sat behind his desk, reviewing a document with the kind of intense focus that suggested he was looking for errors that didn't exist. He was shorter than Marcus had imagined, with thinning hair and an expression that seemed perpetually caught between eagerness and anxiety.
Marcus rapped twice on the open door frame.
Louis looked up, and his face immediately shifted into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Marcus Cole. Right on time. I like that. Punctuality shows respect."
"Punctuality shows competence," Marcus corrected, walking in and sitting down without being invited. "Respect has to be earned."
Louis's smile froze for a fraction of a second. Marcus caught it, catalogued it, and filed it away. Louis Litt didn't like being challenged, but he also didn't like pushovers. Walking the line would be key.
"Well," Louis said, recovering. "I appreciate a candidate with confidence. Though I should tell you, I've interviewed fifteen associates this month, and they all had confidence, too."
"I'm sure they did." Marcus leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed. "How many of them brought you a solution to the Beaumont merger?"
Louis's expression shifted. "What do you know about the Beaumont merger?"
"I know it's been stalled for six weeks because the target company has a patent dispute that's creating valuation uncertainty. I know you're representing the acquiring company, and they're threatening to walk if you can't resolve the patent issue." Marcus pulled a folder from his briefcase and slid it across the desk. "I also know the patent in question is invalid."
Louis grabbed the folder and flipped it open. His eyes scanned the pages, and Marcus watched as comprehension dawned.
"The original patent application was filed in 2008," Marcus continued. "But there's prior art from a 2006 journal article that covers the same methodology. The patent examiner missed it. File a motion to invalidate based on prior art, and the dispute evaporates. The merger goes through, your client is happy, and you look like a genius."
Louis looked up from the folder, and for the first time, his smile was genuine. "This is... this is excellent work. How did you find this?"
"I'm thorough." Marcus didn't mention that his perfect recall had allowed him to cross-reference every patent filing in the relevant field against every academic publication from the past twenty years in about ninety seconds. "And I don't waste time on problems that have simple solutions."
"Simple," Louis repeated, almost laughing. "Do you know how long my team has been working on this?"
"And they've been approaching it wrong. They've been trying to negotiate around the patent instead of eliminating it."
Louis set the folder down, steepling his fingers. "Mr. Cole, I have to ask. Why are you interviewing with me? With credentials like yours and work like this, you could have gotten an interview with Harvey Specter."
There it was—the insecurity Marcus had been expecting.
"I did get an interview with Harvey Specter," Marcus said calmly. "I turned it down."
Louis blinked. "You... what?"
"I turned it down." Marcus met Louis's gaze directly. "Harvey Specter is the best closer in New York. Everyone knows that. He's brilliant, he's successful, and every associate in this firm would kill to work for him. Which means working for Harvey comes with a specific set of expectations. You're expected to be grateful for the opportunity. You're expected to worship at his altar. You're expected to be Harvey Specter Junior."
"And you don't want that?"
"I don't want to be anyone's junior." Marcus leaned forward. "I want to work with someone who understands what it's like to be underestimated. Someone who knows that talent and results should matter more than office politics, and whose name is on the door. Someone hungry enough to recognize when he has an opportunity to build something that rivals Harvey's reputation instead of just supporting it."
It was a calculated risk. Louis could take it as an insult, an implication that he was second-tier, Harvey's inferior. Or he could take it as Marcus intended: as recognition of Louis's potential and a promise of alliance.
Louis studied him for a long moment, and Marcus could practically see the gears turning. Pride warring with pragmatism, insecurity battling against ambition.
Finally, Louis smiled—a genuine smile this time, sharp and hungry.
"You're hired," Louis said. "You start Monday. Eight AM. And Marcus? That solution to the Beaumont merger? That's exactly the kind of work I expect from you. Don't disappoint me."
Marcus stood, extending his hand. "I won't."
They shook, and Marcus felt the weight of the moment. This wasn't the path he'd initially planned, working for Louis instead of Harvey. But as he thought about it, he realized it might actually be better.
Harvey's associates lived in his shadow. Louis's associates had something to prove.
And Marcus Cole was excellent at proving things.
"One more thing," Louis said as Marcus headed for the door. "How did you really find out about Harvey's interview slots? That information isn't exactly public."
Marcus turned back, smiling. "Louis, if you're going to compete with Harvey Specter, you need people who know how to get information that isn't public. Consider that my first contribution to the team."
He walked out before Louis could respond.
The elevator ride down was quiet, giving Marcus time to process. He'd gotten what he wanted: a position at Pearson Hardman, a mentor who would give him real work and real responsibility, and the perfect position to prove himself.
As the doors opened on the ground floor, Marcus nearly collided with someone rushing in. A tall guy, mid-twenties, wearing an expensive but slightly rumpled suit, carrying a briefcase and a manila folder, and looking like he'd just run a marathon.
"Sorry," the guy said, breathless. "Late for a meeting."
Marcus stepped aside, noting the stranger's nervous energy. "Good luck."
"Thanks." The guy jabbed the button for the thirtieth floor. "I'm gonna need it. Harvey Specter doesn't suffer fools."
Marcus smiled as the elevator doors closed. So Harvey already hired Mike. Interesting timing.
By Monday, Marcus would be starting at Pearson Hardman as Louis Litt's new associate. And with Mike already hired and starting, the firm was about to get very interesting.
Two new associates. Two different mentors. Two very different approaches to the law.
Marcus walked out of the building into the Manhattan afternoon, his reflection catching in the glass doors. He looked exactly like what he was: a man who'd just claimed his future.
Harvey Specter might be the best closer in New York.
But Marcus Cole was about to prove that Louis Litt's team could win just as hard.
And maybe, just maybe, he'd enjoy watching Harvey's new hire try to keep up.