Flashback — Three Months Ago

The fight started in Karl's study.

Rain was hitting the windows.

Kavira stood in front of his desk, holding her law degree in her hands.

Karl didn't even look up from the documents.

"No."

Kavira blinked.

"What do you mean no?"

"You are not working."

Silence.

Then she laughed.

Actually laughed.

"You're joking."

"I'm not."

"Karl, I'm a criminal lawyer."

"And you're my wife."

The room instantly became tense.

Kavira slammed her degree on his desk.

"Do you know how many nights I stayed awake for this?"

No answer.

"Do you know how hard I studied?"

Still silence.

"My classmates were enjoying their lives while I was studying case files till 3 a.m.!"

Karl finally looked up.

"I don't care."

Wrong answer.

Very wrong answer.

Kavira's eyes immediately filled with anger.

"You don't care?"

"No."

"Karl Casanova, since KG classes I have been studying!"

She pointed at her certificates.

"Those degrees aren't decorations!"

"They are my hard work."

"They are MY identity."

Karl stood up.

"You don't need a job."

"I wasn't asking for permission!"

The room fell silent.

Kavira continued.

"First my father controlled my life."

"Then my family."

"And now you?"

Karl's jaw tightened.

"I'm protecting you."

"No."

She shook her head.

"You're controlling me."

"Kavira—"

"No!"

Her voice echoed.

"I'm not one of your guards."

"I'm not your employee."

"I'm not a prisoner."

"I'm your wife."

"Act like a husband, not a jailer."

For a second Karl actually looked hurt.

But then his expression hardened again.

"End of discussion."

Kavira stared at him.

Disappointed.

Heartbroken.

Then she quietly said,

"One day you'll realize that loving someone and owning someone aren't the same thing."

And she walked out.

Present Day

Germany.

8:30 A.M.

For the first time since leaving Karl's mansion—

Kavira felt free.

Nervous.

Scared.

But free.

She stood in front of one of Germany's most prestigious corporate buildings.

BETHLEY GROUP.

A massive glass skyscraper.

Forty-eight floors.

Thousands of employees.

International reputation.

And they needed a criminal lawyer.

Kavira adjusted her blazer.

White shirt.

Black trousers.

Hair tied neatly.

No luxury.

No bodyguards.

No Casanova name.

Just—

Kavira.

The lawyer.

She smiled softly.

"I missed this."

Courtroom

Three weeks later.

Bethley Group had assigned her first major case.

The courtroom was packed.

Journalists.

Lawyers.

Businessmen.

Judges.

Everyone.

The defendant was accused of corporate fraud worth millions.

The opposing lawyer was famous throughout Germany.

Many people expected Kavira to lose.

The judge adjusted his glasses.

"Miss Kavira, your closing statement."

The courtroom became silent.

Kavira stood.

Confident.

Calm.

Professional.

She walked forward.

"Your Honor."

"The prosecution wants this court to believe that my client intentionally committed fraud."

She picked up a file.

"But facts don't care about assumptions."

Murmurs spread through the courtroom.

Kavira continued.

"Exhibit A proves that the financial reports were altered."

She placed documents before the judge.

"Exhibit B proves the alterations occurred after my client submitted them."

The prosecutor immediately stood.

"Objection!"

"Speculation."

Kavira smiled.

"Not speculation."

She held up another document.

"Evidence."

The courtroom became quieter.

The prosecutor's expression changed.

Not good.

Very not good.

Kavira continued confidently.

"The real criminal expected everyone to blame the CEO."

"But they forgot one thing."

She pointed toward the accounting manager.

"The security logs."

The man's face instantly turned pale.

Kavira noticed.

Got you.

She looked at the judge.

"The financial records were modified from his computer."

The courtroom exploded.

"What?"

"No way!"

The accounting manager stood abruptly.

"She's lying!"

Kavira smirked.

"Then why did you just stand up before I even finished my sentence?"

The man froze.

Silence.

Judge.

Jury.

Everyone.

Watching.

Then slowly—

the man sat down.

Defeated.

The judge finally spoke.

"Case dismissed."

The gavel hit.

BANG.

Kavira won.

Her first major case.

Bethley Group

That evening.

The CEO's office.

The CEO of Bethley Group was known throughout Germany.

A ruthless businessman.

Cold.

Feared.

Powerful.

His name was:

Viktor Reinhardt

Tall.

Sharp features.

Dark suit.

The type of man who looked like he could secretly be a mafia boss.

He sat behind his desk.

Looking at Kavira's file.

Then at her.

"You won."

Kavira smiled slightly.

"That was the goal."

For the first time—

Viktor smirked.

Interesting.

Most people were terrified of him.

This woman wasn't.

"I've seen hundreds of lawyers."

He closed the file.

"You are different."

Kavira crossed her arms.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should."

Then Viktor stood.

"Bethley Group would like to permanently retain you as corporate criminal counsel."

Kavira blinked.

That was huge.

Very huge.

One of the biggest opportunities of her career.

She extended her hand.

"Then I accept."

Viktor shook her hand.

"Welcome to Bethley, Miss Kavira."

Night

9:45 P.M.

The city lights glowed beautifully outside the taxi window.

Kavira leaned her head against the glass.

Tired.

Exhausted.

Happy.

For the first time in months—

she felt like herself again.

Not Karl's wife.

Not somebody's daughter.

Not somebody's responsibility.

Just—

Kavira.

The criminal lawyer who had fought for her dreams.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

She ignored it.

Buzz.

Again.

Ignored.

Buzz.

Again.

This time she answered.

"...Hello?"

Silence.

Then a familiar voice.

Deep.

Dangerous.

And one she knew better than her own heartbeat.

"Kavira."

Her entire body froze.

Karl.

Silence filled the call.

Finally he spoke.

"I heard you won."

Kavira looked outside the taxi window.

How did he know?

Then again—

this was Karl Casanova.

Of course he knew.

"Congratulations."

His voice was quiet.

Almost gentle.

For a moment neither spoke.

Then Kavira whispered,

"Thank you."

Another silence.

A painful one.

The kind that happens when two people still love each other but don't know how to fix what broke between them.

Finally Karl said,

"You always wanted this."

"Yes."

"I'm proud of you."

And for some reason—

those four words hurt more than any argument.

Because they were the words she had wanted to hear months ago.

The call disconnected.

Kavira stared at the screen.

Then looked up at the city lights.

Unaware that from another black car parked across the street—

someone was watching her.

Not Karl.

Not Aaron.

Not Friedrich.

Someone new.

Someone dangerous.

And the moment he saw Kavira smile while looking out of the taxi window—

he became interested.

Very interested.

And that would become a problem for everyone.