Page 17 of Client Privilege

“Right away,” Sandra’s voice replied.

While waiting, Damian pulled out a legal pad. “Let’s talk about what happened in court today. The protective order was granted, which means Marcus Delaney cannot come within 500 metres of you,your residence, or your workplace. He cannot contact you directly or through third parties.”

“What about Buster?” I asked. “My cat—”

“I’ve included provisions for the return of your personal property, including your pet.” Damian made a note. “We’ll need to arrange a supervised exchange.”

The phone on his desk buzzed, Sandra’s voice sounding tinny on the speaker as Damian answered. “Mr. Richards? I’ve checked the court records. Your filing doesn’t appear to be in the system yet.”

Damian frowned. “That’s impossible. We filed it this morning.”

“I know, sir. I spoke with Clerk Johnson personally. He says there’s no record of our filing.”

Something cold settled in my chest. Marcus had connections everywhere—including court clerks who could “lose” paperwork.

Damian’s expression hardened. “And Judge Thornton?”

“Apparently he’s been reassigned. We’ve been moved to Judge Patterson’s docket.”

“Patterson?” Damian’s voice remained even, but I saw his knuckles whiten. “Thank you, Sandra. Please print a complete copy of our filing package. I’ll deliver it to the court personally.”

He ended the call and met my gaze. “Judge Patterson is known for being… conservative in domestic abuse cases. Particularly those involving same-sex couples.”

The hope I’d felt earlier evaporated. “Marcus arranged this, didn’t he?”

“It appears Mr. Delaney has more extensive connections than I anticipated.” Damian stood and walked to the window, hands clasped behind his back. “But this changes nothing about our strategy, only our execution. If we can’t rely on the system working as it should, we’ll need to be more thorough, more prepared, more creative.”

“He’s going to win.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “He always wins.”

Damian turned, and the expression on his face startled me. Not pity or resignation, but something harder. Determined.

“Mr. Delaney may have money and influence, but he’s made a critical error.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“He’s shown his hand too early.” Damian returned to his desk and began writing rapidly on his legal pad. “Now we know what we’re dealing with. And I do not respond well to intimidation tactics.”

“But your firm—your partners—”

“Are not handling this case. I am.” He looked up, his gaze intense. “Alex, I need you to understand something. This will get worse before it gets better. Mr. Delaney will escalate his efforts. He’ll try to isolate you, discredit you, pressure you from all sides.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. I knew exactly what Marcus would do. I’d watched him destroy other people who crossed him.

“But I promise you this,” Damian continued, his voice dropping lower. “I will not abandon this case. No matter what pressure he applies, no matter what tactics he employs.”

I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to. But I’d heard promises before. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Perhaps not,” Damian acknowledged. “But he doesn’t know what I’m capable of either.”

His phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen, his expression darkening.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It seems there’s been an… incident at the shelter,” Damian said carefully.

My heart raced. “What kind of incident?”

“Someone matching Mr. Delaney’s description was asking questions about new residents in the neighbourhood. He didn’t mention you byname, but the shelter coordinator recognized him from the photo I provided them.” Damian set his phone down. “They didn’t confirm or deny your presence there, but they were concerned enough to call me.”

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