Jason didn't bother going back to the dorm that night. With Will Franklin's background information in hand, he slid behind the wheel of his matte-black Lamborghini Huracán and headed straight for Starlight Law Group, one of the most powerful law firms in the entire city of Riverdale.
The moment his car pulled into the private lot, several attorneys in sharp suits hurried out to greet him warmly.
Ordinary walk-in clients? They'd be told to wait in the lobby and fill out forms. But a Lamborghini owner? That screamed big money—and big cases.
"Mr. … Jason, please, come inside." A short-haired woman in a tailored gray suit took the lead with a professional smile.
Jason was ushered into a glass-walled reception lounge. Fresh tea was poured, pleasantries exchanged. The woman introduced herself as Cynthia, one of the firm's senior partners.
Then she cut right to the point. "Mr. Jason, what can we do for you today?"
Jason pulled out a folder and slid it across the table. "There's a small drywall supply factory on the outskirts of town. They've been withholding wages from their employees. I want you to help the workers protect their rights."
Cynthia blinked, a little caught off guard. With the Lamborghini parked outside, she had expected inheritance disputes, corporate takeovers, or maybe a multimillion-dollar lawsuit. Not… this.
That factory wasn't just small—it was barely scraping by. Old machinery, barely half a dozen employees, and equipment so outdated the place was worth maybe a hundred grand in total.
Helping them recover unpaid wages would hardly cover the cost of an attorney's time.
Why would someone like him care about a factory this small?
Cynthia's instincts told her the obvious: this wasn't about money. Someone at that factory must have crossed him.
Still, she smiled. "We'd need to speak directly with the workers, Mr. Jason, to understand the details and gather evidence."
Jason shook his head. "They're not educated. Most of them don't even know what protections the law gives them. You'll need to send someone to persuade them."
That request startled the attorneys in the room. Normally, no one expected high-powered lawyers to chase down blue-collar workers for such a minor case.
But then Jason continued, his voice calm but firm:
"My terms are simple. I'll pay one million dollars in legal fees. Two conditions: first, the workers get their rights protected. Second, the factory goes bankrupt."
He leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. "The faster you make it happen, the better. Do this well, and there will be bigger opportunities in the future."
Cynthia's pulse quickened. A million dollars for a case involving a factory worth one-tenth of that? It was crystal clear—Jason wasn't after compensation. He wanted blood.
She gave a polite nod, masking her excitement. "You can rest assured, Mr. Jason. Starlight Law has deep ties here in Riverdale. A small, county-level factory won't be an issue."
She tilted her head. "Just to clarify—you want us to pursue not only unpaid wages, but also potential violations? Illegal construction, fire code breaches, environmental hazards…?"
Jason's eyes glinted. "As long as it's within the law—do everything."
"Understood," Cynthia said, her smile growing. He wants the place erased.
They signed the contract within the hour. Jason didn't even bother with a hefty deposit—just a token amount up front, with the promise of the million-dollar payout once the job was done.
Cynthia didn't care. The case was a layup, and more importantly, she had just secured a connection with someone whose influence went far beyond his bank account.
Two and a half days later, Frank's phone suddenly rang.
When he saw that it was his father calling, he quickly picked up.
He thought it would just be a casual family chat, but instead, his father's anxious voice came through:
"Frank, do you know any lawyers?"
Frank froze for a moment. "I've got a buddy who's a lawyer, but… why are you asking?"
His father sounded flustered. "The guys at our plant—the four who quit last month—they actually had the guts to sue us."
"They went and hired some fancy firm called Starlight Legal Group, saying we're guilty of illegal construction, fire hazards, and environmental violations. Every factory around here runs the same way—we're not doing anything different. How can they say it's against the law?"
"Now our business account is frozen, and we've been ordered to appear in mediation in two weeks. If we don't settle, it goes to trial."
Frank's expression darkened. Normally, lawsuits like this took weeks just to get filed. A full case could drag on for months, even years, if the defendant knew how to stall.
But this time, everything—from filing fees to preservation motions to the court summons—was wrapped up in barely two and a half days. Whoever was behind this wasn't just playing around.
And Frank knew exactly who it was. Jason. The guy he'd just pissed off not long ago.
He clenched his teeth. So it's him, huh? Fine. If he can hire a lawyer, so can I.
Frank quickly called his lawyer friend, a local guy from their county named Alan Carter. Alan happened to be free, so he drove down to the plant to review the case. After a couple hours, he called Frank back.
"Frank, I've got to ask—did you offend somebody powerful recently?"
Frank hesitated, then admitted, "Yeah, maybe I did. But that's not the point. He wants to sue us? Then we fight back. If we win, he pays the lawyer fees anyway, right?"
Alan's voice grew grim. "No. You don't get it. That is the point. If you've pissed off someone with real money, you're in deep trouble."
"Do you know who your ex-employees hired? Starlight Legal Group. That's one of the top firms in the entire state. I can't even get into their lobby. Any one of their attorneys could outclass me in court."
"And this isn't just one lawyer—they sent an entire team. The way they're treating it, you'd think this was a billion-dollar corporate case."
"And do you know what deal they gave your ex-staff? They fronted them six months' worth of back pay so they can survive comfortably. No legal fees up front, nothing out of pocket. If they win, Starlight takes a cut from the damages and compensation. If they lose, the workers still keep the money. It's a no-risk play."
"In other words, this case looks like a losing deal for Starlight—unless someone is bankrolling them hard from behind the scenes. And if that's true, your enemy is throwing money at this just to bury you."
Frank's stomach twisted. He thought again of Jason, with his smug grin and expensive taste.
He growled, "So what if they got some back pay? The court still has to decide based on facts, right? He can throw all the money he wants, but the judge decides the outcome. Why should we be scared?"
Alan snapped. "Because you don't understand the law at all! According to labor law, unpaid wages have to be reimbursed with compensation. Plus overtime pay, heat exposure stipends, safety coverage—all of it."
"You stiffed them for six months. That alone can trigger extra 2N compensation when employees resign due to non-payment. Just because your workers didn't know their rights before doesn't mean the law doesn't apply."
"Normally, workers don't stand a chance against owners because they can't afford lawyers or drag things out. But now? They've got the best attorneys in the state and unlimited resources behind them. You don't."
"And don't even get me started on the building code violations, fire safety, or pollution issues. Even if those aren't fatal, they'll force you to halt production for inspection, and every delay costs you. They can bleed you dry."
"Court battles are wars of resources, Frank. And in this war, the rich side delivers a crushing blow every time. They can fight endlessly. You can't."
There was a long silence. Alan's voice dropped lower.
"I just need to know one thing—how rich is this guy you pissed off?"
Frank swallowed. "I'm… not sure. I just know he wears Rolex and Patek Philippe, and he drives a Mercedes G-Wagon, a Lamborghini, and a Rolls-Royce Cullinan."
Alan went quiet for nearly ten seconds. Then, with a weary sigh, he said:
"Frank… you're screwed. If you're looking for death, fine—but don't drag me into it. I can't win this case for you. You'd better find someone way above my level."
And with that, Alan hung up.
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