3rd Person POV
Anna didn't even look up from her desk as Harvey breezed past her as she knew better.
He didn't even knock when it came to Cameron Dennis.
He didn't ask permission. He didn't wait to be announced and Cameron never called him out for it.
That was the rhythm between Harvey Specter and Cameron Dennis.
Inside, Cameron was hunched over a file, glasses low on his nose, pen tapping lazily against the paper. He didn't look up until Harvey was halfway across the room, sharp in his suit, irritation practically radiating off him.
Cameron set the pen down, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Took you longer than I thought."
Harvey didn't sit. He planted himself in front of the desk, arms loose at his sides but jaw tight.
"You gave first chair to some kid fresh out of Harvard?"
Cameron leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head. "Straight to the point. You've always had a talent for skipping foreplay."
"Don't play games, Cameron." Harvey's voice cut sharp. "Tell me I didn't just hear you handed a first chair prosecution to someone who doesn't even know where the men's room is."
Cameron grinned, unbothered. "That's exactly what you heard."
Harvey felt his jaw tighten.
He'd expected Cameron to at least dance around it. "Why?"
"Why not?" Cameron countered, feigning innocence. "You afraid this bruises your pride? Someone younger, shinier, getting what you have right now?"
Harvey leaned forward, hands braced on the desk. "This isn't about pride. It's about standards. I didn't get first chair my first year. Hell, not even my second. You made me earn it."
"And look how that turned out," Cameron said smoothly. "One of the best prosecutors I've got."
"Because I proved myself," Harvey shot back. "Not before."
Cameron smirked wider, like Harvey was playing into his hand. He pulled open a drawer and slid a file across the desk. "Take a look."
Harvey didn't hesitate. He dropped into the chair and flipped it open.
Liam Harper. Harvard Law. Top of his class. Clerked for Judge Grace. Interned at the SEC. Offers from multiple top firms, including Zane. Harvey's eyes flicked over line after line. Impressive—on paper.
Too impressive, maybe.
He closed the file halfway and looked up, unimpressed. "Okay. He's good but a good résumé doesn't earn first chair. A trial is more than GPA and internships."
"You're forgetting something," Cameron said. "You got special treatment too."
"Yeah," Harvey fired back, "Only after I proved I could actually stand in a courtroom and won. Not because I wore a nice suit and smiled in the right places."
"Funny you mentioned 'suit'" Cameron reached into another drawer and pulled out something unexpected.
A Rolex. He set it on the desk, polished face catching the office light.
Harvey's brow arched. "What's this?"
Cameron tapped the watch. "That kid walked into my office in a custom suit, wearing this Rolex, and carried himself like he owned the building. Confidence dripping off him and he told me he doesn't lose."
"Sounds more like arrogance," Harvey said flatly.
"Both," Cameron admitted with a shrug. "So I tested him. Pushed him, needled him and by the end, he put this on the line—bet me he'd win any case I assigned him."
Harvey blinked once. The audacity made him pause. "He bet… his Rolex? On his first case?"
"Damn right."
"Or maybe it doesn't matter," Harvey countered. "You just said he comes from money. Win or lose, the watch isn't a real loss to him."
Cameron shook his head, eyes sharp now. "No. It matters. He had Zane offering him a golden office. The kid could've been sipping champagne in a penthouse by now but he chose this office. Chose me. Which means this job matters more than the watch. More than the money."
Harvey studied him, narrowing his eyes. He could see the logic, but it didn't erase the problem. "So your genius plan is to throw him a first chair to… humble him?"
"Exactly," Cameron said without hesitation. "He's talented. That much is clear but he needs to fall. To feel the weight of it. Once he does, he'll be sharp and hungry without the ego."
Harvey crossed his arms, skepticism still etched in his face. "And what if he doesn't fall? What if he actually wins?"
Cameron leaned back, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Want to know what case I assigned him?"
Harvey didn't like the tone. His gut tightened. "What case?"
"Marcus Hale."
Harvey's reaction was immediate. His eyes snapped sharp, voice low but cutting. "Are you insane? You gave a rookie Hale's case?"
Cameron didn't flinch. He just shrugged. "I told him to back off. Warned him it was a black hole but he didn't so that's on him."
"That's not a test," Harvey said coldly. "That's sabotage."
Cameron leaned forward, voice steady, almost calm. "No, Harvey. That's reality. If he's half as good as he says, he'll be able to climb out of this loss and then I get myself a talented young lawyer who knows the taste of failure and won't mouth off next time."
Harvey let out a quiet laugh that wasn't amusement—it was disbelief. He shook his head slowly. "I don't like this, Cameron."
Cameron stood, circled the desk, and clapped a hand on Harvey's shoulder. "Relax. The kid's strong. He'll pick himself up and when he does, he'll be exactly what we need—sharp, hungry, teachable."
Harvey didn't shrug him off, but his jaw stayed tight. "What's the status?"
"Hale's lawyers at Bratton Gould already filed for dismissal. Liam's got nothing because there's nothing to get. So the case gets tossed. No real damage done."
Harvey narrowed his eyes. "Unless he surprises you."
Cameron smirked. "If he does, I'll admit I underestimated him."
Harvey stood, file still in his hand. "Hope you know what you're doing."
"You know me," Cameron said.
"Yeah," Harvey muttered, setting the file back on the desk. "That's what worries me."
At the door, Harvey paused, looking back with genuine curiosity he couldn't mask. "I want to meet him."
"Not yet," Cameron said, already back at his desk, eyes on another file. "Let the case get tossed first."
Harvey lingered a beat before stepping out.
He didn't like Cameron's game. Not one bit but as he walked down the hallway, a thought pressed at the back of his mind.
Liam Harper. The kid had the résumé, the confidence, and apparently the arrogance to bet a Rolex on his first case.
Was he reckless? Probably.
Overconfident? Absolutely.
But Harvey couldn't deny it—he was curious. Curious to see if the kid was just another spoiled rich rookie, or if there was actually something under all that polish.
And if there was? Harvey Specter wanted a front-row seat.
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