Chapter 16 – Between Screens and Hearts
July 2012 – Harvard University, Lowell House Dormitory – 11:17 p.m.
The city lights were already dancing through the windows of the university residence. Gustavo had just showered, was wearing a basic black t-shirt and sweatpants. His still bare feet were on the cold carpet. On the desk, his laptop illuminated the room with a soft, bluish light.
He took a deep breath and clicked on "Start video call – MOTHER AND FATHER".
The signal took four seconds. Then, the image formed: Leandro, in a blue polo shirt, sitting in the living room armchair, and next to him, Carla, with her hair tied up, wearing a gray sweatshirt and a mug of hot tea in her hands.
"Hi, my son!" said Carla immediately, her eyes shining.
"Yay! Finally! I thought you were going to stand us up today," Leandro joked, with a wide smile.
Gustavo couldn't help but smile.
— Do you really think I would go to bed without telling you what happened today? No way. I have a lot of things to say, but... first, I miss you so much, you know?
Carla approached the camera.
— Oh, my love... you look just like you did when you were 12 years old and did that history project about the French Revolution and presented it to the whole class as if you were the president of France!
— What's worse, it was almost like that today — Gustavo laughed. — Only, instead of the classroom, I was inside the United States Department of Justice.
— What do you mean?! — Leandro sat up straight in his chair.
— Guys, it was surreal. A federal judge invited me for a technical visit, and I spent the whole day there. I met prosecutors, judges, FBI agents, even people from the Department of Defense. The chief prosecutor gave me a personal card. He said he wanted to follow my career. An FBI agent said I had a future in counterintelligence. And an international defense attorney asked if I'd ever thought about working in Military Law!
Leandro blinked a few times, trying to absorb it.
— Is this... serious? Like... really?
— Very serious. Everything happened today. I felt like I was in an episode of a TV series, but with a real penal code.
Carla had her hand over her mouth, overcome with emotion.
— I'm... so proud of you. My God, Gustavo. You left Brazil when you were 17. Today, you're here... being recognized by agents and prosecutors from the United States!
— And with that calm demeanor — Leandro commented. — I bet you were just listening and observing everyone. We were right not to put you in the theater, huh?
Gustavo laughed, shaking his head.
— Maybe I learned to talk more over time. Remember Eleanor Voss, the former CIA agent who was my teacher in the workshop?
— Of course. The one that made you stay silent and stare at your colleague for two minutes?
— That one. One of today's prosecutors is her friend. He said that she would only recommend someone if she saw "the ability to listen without ego." Those words stuck in my head.
Carla was clearly moved.
— Son... you have a gift. You really listen. You always have. When I got nervous, you never interrupted. You just let me talk. And in the end you would say: "It's okay, Mom. We'll solve it together."
Leandro swallowed hard.
— I saw you go straight from school in Brazil to a classroom at Harvard. And today... you're creating a network of contacts with people who run the justice system in this country. But it's still the same Gustavo who plays cards with us on Sunday nights.
Gustavo smiled, with tears in his eyes.
— I always will be. You're my starting point. Everything I do... is to make you proud. And you can rest easy knowing that your son knows where he came from.
Silence for two seconds. Then Carla spoke:
— We love you very much, son.
— I love you too. So much. Tomorrow I'm going to talk to Hailey. She's going to freak out.
— Give her a kiss! — Carla said.
— Tell her Dylan is coming here on Sunday — Leandro finished with a playful grimace. — Let's have a barbecue. If she doesn't want to burn his clothes, that's fine.
Everyone laughed.
The call ended with kisses and promises of new calls over the weekend. Gustavo took a deep breath, discreetly wiping his eyes. He closed the tab, went to the small kitchen in the dorm, got a glass of water, came back, and then typed:
Start call – HALEY
The screen went black for three seconds.
Then, the image appeared.
Haley was sitting on the bed, wearing a light pink sweatshirt with her hair tied up in a high bun, a bowl of popcorn on her lap, and large headphones on. She smiled immediately when she saw his face.
"Aaaaaaah! Finally!" she shouted, ripping off her headphones. "I was itching to know what this 'super mysterious visit to the DOJ' was all about!"
Gustavo shifted in his chair, trying to keep his expression neutral.
"Well, let's just say… I met a prosecutor who prosecuted an international money laundering ring, an FBI agent who once went undercover, a Pentagon lawyer, and a federal judge who quoted Kierkegaard in the middle of a trial.
Haley's eyes widened.
"OMG. Like... this is SO serious! It's like... like you've stepped into Scandal with a dash of Criminal Minds!"
"Not far from it," he laughed.
Haley ate some popcorn.
"And they liked you?"
"Not just liked. They gave me cards, internship offers. One of the guys said I have 'the voice of a defense attorney, the eyes of a judge.' And one of the lawyers said I should drop everything and go into international defense."
Haley was silent for a moment, her face lit up by the screen.
"Wow, Gus... this is amazing. Like, really. I always knew you were going to accomplish all this. But seeing it happen... it's different. It's like... the world is finally realizing what we've always known." Gustavo was touched by that.
— Thank you, Haley. Really. Having you as a friend gives me a sense of purpose. It always has.
She made a heart with her hands, half laughing, half emotional.
— I keep thinking... that boy who moved from Brazil, full of books and an accent... is now negotiating with people from the CIA. And he still has time to help me run a clothing store!
— Speaking of which... how is the store's Instagram?
— Growing! I posted two looks today and received 14 messages. There are already influencers wanting to do a collab.
Gustavo smiled with satisfaction.
— I told you you had talent. The store is just the beginning.
— And you are just the beginning of the Brazilian FBI in the US.
— Don't exaggerate. I'm still just a student who drinks too much coffee and forgets to sleep.
Haley stared at him through the screen.
— You are more than you imagine, Gustavo Silva. And I'm here, applauding your every step. I always will be.
He took a deep breath.
— Promise me you'll keep telling me everything about the store, your life, your mother's drama with Phil...
— Only if you promise you'll never forget that, no matter how many secret rooms you go into... I'll keep sending you stupid memes in the middle of the night.
— Deal.
The call ended with laughter and grimaces.
Gustavo closed his laptop, looked at the ceiling and thought:
"Sometimes, the most important moments don't happen in the corridors of power, but in video calls at 11 at night. Where the truth is simple, warm and sincere."
Chapter 17 – Where Power Starts to Look at You
September 2012 – Harvard Law School – Legal Recruitment Fair – 10:43 AM
The main lobby of Wasserstein Hall was bustling.
Tables lined up in aisles, tall banners with logos of renowned law firms — Kirkland & Ellis, Cravath, Skadden, Baker McKenzie, White & Case... — all meticulously arranged as if they were offering an entire future with each resume received.
Gustavo walked between the booths with a leather briefcase under his arm, his gaze calm and observant, as was his style. He was wearing a navy blue suit, a dark burgundy tie, and his hair perfectly aligned. He didn't draw attention to himself with extravagance. He was... precise.
"These guys didn't just come to hand out freebies. They came to recruit gladiators." — he thought.
He stopped in front of the Pearson Hardman booth. A name that immediately brought to mind prestige and strategy. He knew it. He had studied the firm's cases. Criminal cases with international reach. Corporate litigation that seemed like chapters in legal thrillers.
And there, in the center of the booth, she was: Jessica Pearson. Proud, elegant, wearing a black suit without a single crease, Louboutin shoes that shone in the natural light that came in from the glass ceiling. She was talking to a small group of students as if she were analyzing chess pieces.
Gustavo watched from afar. Until she turned her dark eyes directly to him.
"You."
Her voice cut through the air. The group turned. Gustavo pointed to himself, surprised.
"Yes, you with the burgundy tie. Come here."
He walked toward her, still not knowing what to expect. Jessica was examining him as if she were reading a contract clause hidden in the footer.
"Name?"
"Gustavo Silva."
She crossed her arms, smiling sideways.
— Brazilian?
— Yes.
— From Harvard?
— Second year of JD, specializing in Criminal Law. With experience in Moot Court, negotiation workshops and recently invited for a technical visit to the Department of Justice.
Jessica raised an eyebrow.
— And can you sum up your motivation in... four words?
Gustavo didn't hesitate.
— Justice with an effective strategy.
Jessica laughed. A dry, short, but intrigued laugh.
— I like students who don't stumble over their own words. Pearson Hardman has a branch in Boston. We're looking for an intern to work with Philip Ross, one of our most experienced criminal lawyers.
She handed him a business card.
— Interview tomorrow, 8:00 a.m. We'll be in Room 309 at Wasserstein. Bring your best argument.
Gustavo arrived at exactly 7:55 a.m. Room 309. The dark wood of the door contrasted with the bright light of the hallway. He took a deep breath and went in.
Philip Ross was sitting alone, reading a dossier. Gray hair, rectangular glasses, a slightly disheveled tie, the look of someone who has already acquitted the guilty and convicted the innocent — not for pleasure, but for pragmatism.
"Silva. Sit down."
Gustavo obeyed.
"Pearson liked you. That doesn't happen often. Tell me: why Criminal Law?"
"Because human beings are more interesting when they have something to lose."
Ross closed the dossier, looking at him.
"Poetic. But here, we don't survive on poetry. Have you ever represented mock defendants in Moot Court?"
"Yes. As the prosecution and as the defense. In the last one, I managed to acquit a client based on insufficient evidence and violation of the chain of custody."
Ross nodded, as if that were a lukewarm coffee that pleased him.
"Okay. A case." A woman, 35, found with three cell phones used in illegal transactions. Tell me why you wouldn't arrest her.
Gustavo responded immediately.
"Without a warrant, the cell phones were obtained through an illegal search. The evidence is tainted. Without admissible evidence, she cannot be formally charged. Furthermore, there is no direct connection to the illegal act. Only clues. Clues do not equal conviction."
Ross was silent. Then he spoke:
"Starts next week. Two days a week. Paid internship. The position has no title, but you will be the wolf's shadow. And a shadow needs to know when to disappear."
First Day at Pearson Hardman Office – Boston – One Week Later
The building had marble columns and receptionists who spoke in whispers. Gustavo was taken to the 12th floor. Glass rooms, automatic doors, light wood paneling. The atmosphere was one of quiet, sharp power.
Philip Ross was waiting for him in the anteroom.
— Welcome to the arena. Today, we're going to watch a bail hearing. I want you to observe. Tomorrow, you write the report. I want an analysis of the behavior of the judge, the prosecution, and the defendant. Body language. Tactical decisions. Everything.
In the courtroom, Gustavo stood behind the lawyer. The case involved a businessman accused of bank fraud. Ross acted as the defense attorney. He didn't speak in flourishes. He used short sentences, long pauses. Gustavo realized: the power was in the way Ross used his silence as a weapon.
After the hearing, in the car back, Ross said:
"Remarks?"
"The prosecutor backed away every time Ross looked directly at her. The judge avoided eye contact with the defendant. The defendant scratched the back of his neck every time he lied. And the court secretary smiled discreetly when the lawyer cited "emotional instability" as a reason for not applying pretrial detention. That got to her.
Ross looked out the window, then replied:
"Go far."
That night, Gustavo went back to his dorm, took off his shoes, and stared out the window. He was no longer just a student. He was stepping behind the scenes where the fate of lives was decided.
He texted Haley:
"I started at Pearson Hardman today. I worked with Philip Ross. Hard-core criminal defense. It was intense... but I'm ready."
She replied minutes later:
"You were born for this. But remember: power is just the clothes. The heart is what you wear underneath."
Gustavo smiled.
Chapter 18 – The Titans Meet
Pearson Hardman – Boston Office
October 2012 – 10:18 AM
The lobby was busier than usual.
Receptionists whispered to each other, lawyers adjusted their suits, and even Philip Ross took a moment to run his hand through his gray hair, arranging his features more rigorously. Gustavo noticed the unusual movement as he typed his report for the week.
"Are you expecting an inspection?" Gustavo asked curiously, without taking his eyes off the screen.
Ross grunted with a restrained smile.
"Not exactly. Harvey Specter is coming."
Gustavo froze. The name echoed like an elegant thunderclap.
"Harvey Specter? The most feared closer in New York?"
Ross nodded.
"He's coming with Donna Paulsen." Jessica called him to discuss a billion-dollar merger involving clients from the New York headquarters and a company here in Boston. And before you ask... yes, he is everything they say he is.
Gustavo closed his laptop slowly.
— I want to see this up close.
10:47 AM – Main Entrance – Pearson Hardman Boston
When the elevator doors opened, the sound of heels came first.
Donna Paulsen appeared in a wine-red blazer, eyes alert, hair impeccable, walking as if she already knew everything before it even happened. Behind her, with the calm walk of someone who never asks for permission, Harvey Specter.
Dark gray Tom Ford suit with wide lapels, matte black tie, sharp expression. He stopped at the reception and greeted the team with a restrained nod.
— I'm here to talk to Jessica. And yes, you can breathe. I'm not here to take over... yet.
The lobby erupted in nervous laughter.
Donna turned to him with a smile.
"One day, just one day, you could be humble."
"But then I wouldn't be Harvey Specter."
11:12 AM – Pearson Hardman Conference Room – 15th Floor
Jessica Pearson was already waiting for them.
"Harvey. Donna. Welcome to Boston."
"I've come to save the day. As always," Harvey said, sitting down unceremoniously.
"This is a delicate case. A merger between NovaCore Technologies and Fractal Data, both with pending litigation. And there's a tax collusion charge that could blow up this merger before it gets off the ground."
Donna interrupted:
"And the DA's office is watching, right?"
Jessica nodded.
"That's why I asked Harvey to look into this with Philip Ross, and…" she smiled, "our most promising criminal defense intern."
"Gustavo Silva." — Ross added, who had just entered with Gustavo.
Harvey turned around. He looked Gustavo up and down, like someone evaluating a rare piece at an auction.
— Gustavo. Brazilian, right?
— Yes, sir.
— Harvard. Sophomore. Won the last Moot Court. Participated in negotiation workshops, body language... and, according to Jessica, you are a "legal gold mine that just needs to be refined". Her words.
Gustavo just nodded politely.
— It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Specter.
Harvey smiled.
— Okay. Don't call me "sir". It makes me sound like... Louis Litt.
Donna laughed lightly.
12:30 PM – La Table Restaurant, Downtown Boston
Jessica had sent Gustavo to accompany Harvey and Donna to an informal lunch. "Take the opportunity to learn what's not in the books," she had said.
Sitting at a private table, the waiter had barely left when Harvey began:
— So, Gustavo. Why criminal law?
— Because I want to understand human choices under pressure. And I want to ensure that justice does not depend on the defendant's bank account.
Harvey raised an eyebrow, impressed.
— Good answer. But let me test you. Imagine this: you discover that your corporate client is lying. He has omitted documents that could incriminate him and, consequently, the entire company. What do you do?
Gustavo took a sip of water before answering.
— First, I reinforce the obligation of transparency. Second, I explain the legal consequences. If he persists in his omission, I will back down. A lawyer who protects lies contaminates the process. I protect people, not lies.
Donna let out a light whistle, amused.
— Wow. Someone here has read more than criminal procedure manuals.
Harvey laughed.
— You are prepared for a lot, Gustavo. But let me give you a piece of advice. In the real world, fairness and strategy don't always go hand in hand. Sometimes, you'll have to choose between what's right and what's effective.
Gustavo looked him straight in the eye.
"I prefer to be effective the right way."
Harvey smiled. For the first time, genuinely impressed.
"Keep it up. And in a few years, we might need to hire you."
2:05 PM – Back to the Office
Harvey and Donna were led into the conference room where they would discuss the merger. Before entering, Donna discreetly stopped Gustavo.
"Hey."
Gustavo turned around.
"Harvey doesn't just compliment anyone. If he put you on his radar… it's because he saw what few see. Just don't let your ego become your boss, you know?"
Gustavo nodded, with a slight smile.
"It was never about ego. It's about purpose."
Donna smiled.
"Perfect. And if you need help surviving Harvey... just email me. I'm the reason he hasn't imploded yet."
3:44 PM – Jessica Pearson's Office – Boston Headquarters
Harvey walked into Jessica's office with a folder in his hands.
"You've got some raw talent here."
Jessica smiled without surprise.
"I know."
"If this kid keeps this up, and doesn't get swallowed up by the system... he's going to change the rules of the game."
"That's why I brought him here."
Harvey tossed the folder on the table.
"Keep him close. Just... don't let Louis find out."
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