Victoria worked through the morning on Ariana's case. She'd already filed charges against the man who beat her. Now there was nothing to do but wait and prepare.
She moved on to other files.
In two years, she'd learned something important: some people were willing to risk everything for justice. But not everyone got support. Not everyone got a chance.
Victoria knew a single person could only do so much. That's why, from her very first day in this industry, she'd planned to open a law firm. A firm that would protect women without fear, without cowardice.
She also trained in martial arts. She was harsh on herself - always pushing, always improving.
Most cases came easily now. Normal goons, cheap men who thought they could get away with hurting women, they were simple. Only when the opposition had real power did she face difficulty.
She didn't always rely on evidence. Evidence could be manipulated or destroyed. So she developed other methods. She learned to read people. To provoke them into mistakes. To make them talk without realising they were confessing.
Three cases today. All easy wins.
She didn't reveal herself until stepping into court; there was no point in letting the opposition prepare countermeasures. Win after win, she walked out.
Lunch with a client afterwards. Then she dropped the client off at home and drove back to the office.
Between current cases, she also dug into old ones. Victims from years past who never got justice. But evidence from years ago was hidden well or destroyed entirely. She'd been trying for a long time. She still couldn't do much.
Back at her desk, she was deep in work when Haily knocked.
"Sister Victoria, there's someone called Oscar here to see you. He doesn't have an appointment."
Victoria frowned. Oscar? She didn't know any Oscar.
"Fine. I'll meet him."
Haily served coffee and snacks while Oscar waited. When Victoria's door opened, he looked up.
White suit pants. That peach-colored t-shirt with the ribbon bow. A delicate peach-colored watch with a chain belt on her wrist. Short, wavy hair loose. Greyish-blue eyes that could drown a man.
Oscar felt himself falling for her.
She sat across from him, legs crossed, hands resting on her knee. Her face revealed nothing.
"Please speak up, Mr Oscar." Cold. Professional. Empty.
He smiled. "It seems Miss Victoria doesn't remember me."
"Should I?"
"We met yesterday. At the cafe. The elevator."
Her brow scrunched slightly. Then recognition flickered, brief, there and gone.
"Ah. The coffee thrower."
Oscar laughed softly. "I came specifically to apologise. What happened was my fault. Please accept this as a token of my regret."
He slid a carry bag across the table. International brand logo. Expensive.
Victoria glanced at it, then back at him.
"Not necessary."
"Indulge me."
She stared at him for a long moment.