#litigation strategy

[legalattorneyblog]

Mastering the Courtroom: The Crucial Tip Every Lawyer Should Know

Aspiring lawyers are often reminded of a crucial courtroom tip: “Know Your Judge.” This advice underscores the importance of understanding the preferences and expectations of the judge presiding over a case. It goes beyond mastering legal principles and case facts; it’s about anticipating the judge’s inclinations to streamline proceedings, save time and costs, and avoid unnecessary delays and…

[lawofficeofryansshipp]

Having A Successful Florida Mediation | 561.699.0399

Having A Successful Florida Mediation Mediation can make or break your case. If you want a successful outcome, here’s what you need to know! Tip #1: Be Prepared! Attorneys and their clients must be on the same page. If you show up unprepared, you’ll spend the whole day playing catch-up. Know the facts, the law, and your strategy beforehand. Tip #2: Manage Client Expectations Set realistic…

[monukumarefr]

Breach of Contract? Here’s How to Resolve Disputes in India Without Losing Time or Money! | Legal Remedies for Contract Breach in India | Cross Border Contract Disputes in India

Contracts form the basis of trust and cooperation in business relationships. However, if one party fails to fulfill their part, a breach of contract happens. This breach can cause disruptions in workings of the parties, financial losses, and harm to the reputation. For businesses that work in India, it is very important that such disputes be resolved as fast as possible to make sure that operations are continued and interests of the parties are protected.

[muccilaw]

Asset Protection Strategies: Defending Your Legacy

In today’s unpredictable world, safeguarding your assets is more important than ever. Whether you’re an individual planning for the future or a trustee managing an estate, taking steps to protect your wealth is crucial. At Mucci Law, we provide expert trust and estate dispute litigation consulting, helping you navigate the complexities of estate planning, dispute resolution, and asset protection to secure your legacy for generations to come.

The Growing Need for Asset Protection

Your assets are vulnerable to a wide range of risks, from legal disputes and creditors to family disagreements and unforeseen financial challenges. Without a solid asset protection strategy in place, you risk losing significant portions of your estate. At Mucci Law, we specialize in offering estate dispute litigation consulting to help you proactively safeguard your assets while ensuring they are transferred smoothly to your beneficiaries.

Common Risks to Estate and Trust Assets

Proper planning and legal protection are essential when managing assets within an estate or trust. Here are a few common challenges that can lead to legal disputes or asset loss:

Creditors' Claims: Creditors can lay claim to assets if proper protections aren’t in place. Our asset protection strategies ensure that your wealth is insulated from such risks.

Family Disputes: Estate disputes among family members can result in legal battles, delaying the distribution of assets. Our trust and estate dispute litigation consulting services provide a clear path forward, helping to resolve conflicts swiftly.

Trust Mismanagement: Trustees are responsible for managing estate assets in the best interests of beneficiaries. Mismanagement, however, can lead to disputes or legal challenges. We offer legal consulting to help you navigate fiduciary responsibilities or resolve trust administration conflicts.

Trust and Estate Dispute Litigation Consulting: How We Can Help

When estate or trust disputes arise, they can be both emotionally and financially draining. Our estate dispute litigation consulting services provide the legal expertise needed to resolve complex issues and ensure that your assets are handled according to your wishes. At Mucci Law, we specialize in a range of estate and trust-related litigation services, including:

Contesting Wills: If you believe a will was executed under undue influence or fraud, our team will help you contest it and ensure that the rightful beneficiaries receive their share.

Resolving Beneficiary Disputes: When beneficiaries disagree over the distribution of assets or how the estate is managed, we step in to mediate and find an equitable solution.

Handling Fiduciary Misconduct: If a trustee or executor breaches their fiduciary duties, we provide comprehensive legal guidance to ensure that the estate is protected, and the issue is resolved fairly.

Comprehensive Asset Protection Strategies

At Mucci Law, we believe in taking a proactive approach to asset protection. By implementing a well-structured estate plan, you can shield your wealth from future claims, disputes, and legal challenges. Our tailored solutions include:

Establishing Trusts: Trusts are a powerful tool for asset protection, allowing you to dictate how your wealth is managed and distributed. Whether you need an irrevocable trust, a family trust, or a special needs trust, our attorneys will guide you through the process to ensure maximum protection.

Business Succession Plans: For business owners, ensuring the continuity of your business and protecting company assets is essential. We help create succession plans that protect both your personal and business assets.

Will and Trust Drafting: Properly drafted wills and trusts help minimize the risk of disputes and provide clear guidance for the distribution of your estate. Our legal team ensures that all necessary protections are in place, giving you peace of mind.

Why Choose Mucci Law for Estate Litigation and Asset Protection?

At Mucci Law, we are more than just legal advisors—we are partners in protecting your legacy. Our trust and estate dispute litigation consulting services are designed to help individuals and families preserve their wealth, avoid litigation, and resolve disputes with minimal stress.

Experienced Legal Team: Our attorneys have extensive experience in estate planning, trust management, and dispute litigation. We bring years of expertise to the table, ensuring you receive top-tier legal representation.

Client-Focused Approach: Every family and estate is unique, which is why we take the time to understand your goals and provide personalized solutions that fit your needs.

Proven Results: We have a long history of successfully resolving estate disputes and implementing asset protection strategies that stand the test of time. Our goal is to help you achieve the best possible outcome in every situation.

Protect Your Assets Today

Don’t leave your estate vulnerable to unnecessary risks. Contact Mucci Law today to learn more about our trust and estate dispute litigation consulting services and start implementing the right asset protection strategies for your future. Whether you’re managing a family estate or protecting your business, we’re here to help you every step of the way.

[lexlawuk]

Taxpayer Allowed Entrepreneur’s Relief by FTT - Cooke v HMRC

In the case of Cooke v HMRC [2024] UKFTT 272 (TC), the First-tier Tribunal (FTT) ruled in favour of the taxpayer, Jonathan Cooke, granting him entrepreneurs’ relief on the disposal of his shares despite holding just under the 5% shareholding threshold. This case sets an important precedent, demonstrating the FTT’s capacity to provide taxpayers with relief through rectification, echoing the…

[fawziamlaw]

A commercial litigation attorney specializes in managing cases and disputes that may arise in business scenarios.  These litigations may include issues such as disagreement between the business partners, a lawsuit filed for sales and purchase contracts, and issues related to compliance and commercial laws.

[hislop3]

FTC Bans Employment Non-Compete Provisions - Healthcare Implications Aplenty

On Tuesday, the Federal Trade Commission issued a final rule effectively, banning non-compete agreements, provisions, etc. for employees, including executives. The final rule contains separate provisions defining unfair methods of competition for the two subcategories of workers. Specifically, the final rule provides that, with respect to a worker other than a senior executive, it is an unfair…

[anlawvietnam]

Navigating Legal Challenges with a Skilled Litigation Lawyer in Vietnam

Introduction

Regarding legal matters, having a skilled litigation lawyer in Vietnam can make all the difference. Whether you're facing a complex business dispute or a personal legal issue, having the proper legal representation can ensure that your rights are protected, and that you have the best chance of achieving a favorable outcome. In this article, we'll delve into the world of litigation law in Vietnam, exploring the role of litigation lawyers and the expertise they bring to the table.

Understanding the Role of a Litigation Lawyer

Litigation lawyers play a critical role in the legal system of any country. In Vietnam, these legal professionals specialize in handling disputes that end up in court. Their primary goal is representing their client's interests and advocating during legal proceedings. These proceedings can range from civil cases involving contract disputes or personal injury claims to criminal cases that require a strong defense strategy.

Expertise in the Vietnamese Legal System

Like any legal system, the Vietnamese legal system can be intricate and challenging to navigate. A skilled litigation lawyer's in-depth understanding of local laws, regulations, and procedures enables them to craft effective legal strategies tailored to their client's unique situations.

Vietnam's legal landscape has nuances, and having a lawyer well-versed in the local legal intricacies can provide a significant advantage. A seasoned litigation lawyer can provide expert guidance, whether it's familiarity with court procedures, knowledge of precedents, or an understanding of cultural nuances that might impact legal proceedings.

Authoritativeness and Trustworthiness in Legal Representation

A reputable litigation lawyer in Vietnam exudes authoritativeness and trustworthiness. They are respected figures in the legal community due to their knowledge and experience. Clients rely on their expertise to make informed decisions and guide them through legal disputes' complexities.

Trust is a fundamental aspect of the lawyer-client relationship, especially in litigation cases where sensitive matters are often at stake. A trustworthy lawyer communicates openly with clients, informing them about case developments, potential outcomes, and legal strategies. This transparency fosters a sense of confidence and reassurance.

Experience that Counts

When seeking a litigation lawyer, experience matters significantly. Seasoned lawyers have encountered many cases, honing their skills and strategies over the years. Their experience equips them to anticipate challenges, foresee potential roadblocks, and devise innovative solutions.

The AN Law Firm underscores the importance of experience in litigation law. With years of experience handling diverse cases, their team of skilled lawyers is well-prepared to tackle even the most complex legal challenges.

The E-A-T-E Factor: Expertise, Authoritativeness, Trustworthiness, and Experience

The E-A-T-E factor is paramount when searching for a litigation lawyer in Vietnam. Expertise ensures that the lawyer deeply understands local laws and regulations. Authoritativeness and trustworthiness are built through a lawyer's reputation, ethical practices, and transparent communication. Lastly, experience validates a lawyer's ability to navigate intricate legal landscapes.

Conclusion

In conclusion, having a skilled litigation lawyer in Vietnam is a crucial asset when facing legal challenges. Their expertise, authoritativeness, trustworthiness, and experience collectively contribute to effective legal representation. By partnering with a knowledgeable litigation lawyer, individuals and businesses can confidently navigate the Vietnamese legal system, knowing their rights and interests are well-protected.

[macro-pulse]

CLASS ACTIONS: THE LAST HOPE (AND WHY IT'S NOT ENOUGH)

the supreme court left one door open. let's see if we can squeeze through.

the Supreme Court killed nationwide injunctions but said class actions are still okay. let's talk about why this "solution" is actually a nightmare.

WHAT IS A CLASS ACTION?

Basic concept:

One lawsuit representing MANY people

All with similar injuries

Too many to sue individually

Court treats them as one group

Any relief covers the whole "class"

WHY THE COURT ALLOWS THIS

The key distinction:

Nationwide injunction = protecting non-parties

Class action = all class members ARE parties

Technically follows their new rule

Barrett specifically mentioned this option

THE REQUIREMENTS (RULE 23)

To certify a class, you need:

Numerosity - Too many to join individually

Commonality - Same legal questions

Typicality - Representative plaintiffs typical of class

Adequacy - Good lawyers and no conflicts

Plus for injunctions:

23(b)(2) - Party acted same way toward whole class

THE TIMELINE PROBLEM

Regular lawsuit:

File complaint

Get TRO (days)

Get preliminary injunction (weeks)

Protected immediately

Class action:

File complaint

Extensive briefing on class cert

Discovery about class

Hearing on certification

Wait for decision

MONTHS before protection

THE NOTICE NIGHTMARE

Many class actions require:

Notifying all potential members

Giving opt-out rights

Publishing notices

Massive expense

Delays everything

For undocumented plaintiffs? Good luck finding everyone.

THE CURRENT SCRAMBLE

Since June 27, 2025:

Filed class actions:

N.D. California (June 28)

N.D. Illinois (June 30)

S.D. New York (July 1)

E.D. Pennsylvania (July 2)

More daily...

Proposed classes:

"All children born in US to undocumented parents"

"All pregnant women without legal status"

"All babies born after July 27, 2025"

THE CERTIFICATION BATTLES

Government's arguments against certification:

Too diverse (different countries, statuses)

No typical plaintiff (each situation unique)

Unmanageable class (how to identify?)

Notice impossible (undocumented = hiding)

Courts are split on these arguments.

THE ALITO WARNING

Justice Alito's concurrence specifically warned:

"Lax enforcement of requirements for class certification would create significant loophole"

Translation: We'll be watching. Don't try to cheat.

Lower courts got the message - scrutiny is INTENSE.

THE PRACTICAL PROBLEMS

Problem 1: Geographic Limits

Class actions usually limited to circuit or district

Nationwide classes are rare and hard

Might need 50 separate class actions

Problem 2: Mootness

Named plaintiff gives birth

Baby gets citizenship (as plaintiff)

Case moot? Need new plaintiff?

Musical chairs litigation

Problem 3: Conflicts

Different immigrants have different needs

Temporary visa vs undocumented

Different home countries

Hard to represent all fairly

THE FAILED ATTEMPTS (SO FAR)

California attempt:

Judge certified class July 15

9th Circuit stayed it July 18

"Class definition too broad"

Back to square one

Texas attempt:

Conservative judge (!!) certified class

Limited to Texas residents

5th Circuit reviewing

Likely to reverse

THE COST EXPLOSION

Regular injunction case: $50-100k Class action: $500k-2M

Expert witnesses on class issues

Extensive briefing

Notice costs

Administrative expenses

Years of litigation

Who pays? Nonprofits already stretched thin.

THE TIMING DISASTER

By the time class certified:

Thousands of babies born stateless

Families in limbo

Irreparable harm done

Maybe win in 2027?

Justice delayed = babies denied.

THE COVERAGE GAPS

Even successful class actions miss:

People who don't know about suit

Those afraid to join

Future babies not yet conceived

New immigrants arriving daily

Always someone left out.

THE ENFORCEMENT MESS

Say you win class certification. Then:

How does hospital know who's in class?

Database of class members?

Privacy concerns?

Verification process?

More delays and confusion

THE SUPREME COURT TRAP

Even if class certified and injunction granted:

Government appeals to Supreme Court

Same 6-3 majority

"Class certification was improper"

Back to nothing

It's a house of cards.

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE

Requiring class actions:

Forces people to identify themselves

Creates lists of undocumented people

Requires coming forward

Many too scared

Self-deportation through fear

THE HISTORICAL IRONY

Brown v. Board of Education was a class action

Took YEARS to implement

Massive resistance

Still fighting 70 years later

Now imagine that for millions of babies.

THE BANDWIDTH PROBLEM

Limited number of:

Immigration lawyers

Civil rights orgs

Federal judges

Court resources

Can't handle hundreds of class actions simultaneously.

THE WHACK-A-MOLE EFFECT

Win in California? Government enforces in Texas Win in Texas? Enforces in Florida Win everywhere? Changes the policy slightly Start over

THE REAL SOLUTION NEEDED

What would actually work:

Congressional action

Supreme Court reversal

Constitutional amendment

Mass political mobilization

Class actions are band-aids on bullet wounds.

THE BITTER TRUTH

Sotomayor was right to call this "cumbersome"

It's not a solution. It's an obstacle course designed to fail.

But it's what we have.

So we run it.

Because what else can we do?

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GOTO FIRST POST -> CLICK HERE

[mountaesan]

DON'T DEBATE IT, JUST LITIGATE IT! — MASTERLIST

Welcome to BND Law, a prestigious, high-powered law firm nestled in the heart of New York City. Known for taking on impossible cases, defending high-profile clients, and producing some of the country’s most sought-after legal minds, BND is a law firm that is built on reputation.

But behind the polished, shiny elevators and mahogany desks, the associates and interns are tangled in secrets, past flings, fake relationships, and forbidden flirtations. Everyone is hiding something—a buried feeling, a whispered confession, or a risky move that could end everything.

The firm runs on 80-hour workweeks, complicated contracts, late-night ramen runs, and the low hum of fluorescent lighting. From courtroom victories to conference room breakdowns, it’s not just cases that get argued here—it’s feelings, too.

Departments blur. Conflicts cross cases. The elevator’s too slow, the interns are always spilling coffee, and the paralegals gossip like it’s their job. But despite the chaos, every case changes someone—whether it’s their career, their heart, or the way they look at someone across the courtroom.

⚖️ a note from the judge : and here it is !! my 300 followers celebration ^-^ i wanted to wait until i had most of my drafts done but i just couldn't wait lol thank you all soso much for all of your support and i hope you all will stick around for many more milestones ( ◜𖥦◝ ) if you're interested in being added to this series taglist , feel free to comment , dm , or send in an ask !! this is my baby and my biggest project yet , so i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i did making it !

and shoutout to lili ( @htaesan ) , gill ( @astrae4 ) , and holly ( @hollyoongs ) !! you guys are freaking amazing , thank you sm for agreeing to beta read this monstrosity of a series . love you guys !!!

COURT FILE ONE : P. SUNGHO

witnesses : senior partner!sungho x newbie associate!reader evidence presented : mentor/mentee , lawyer!au , slow burn , reader tries to be angsty but sungho shuts it down court report summary : you’re a sharp first-year associate trying to keep your head down—until park sungho, the firm’s youngest partner and brutal courtroom closer, starts pushing you harder than anyone else. at first, it’s just strategy meetings and late nights on the case he had placed you as lead. but something shifts—small glances, quiet confessions, a closeness that starts to feel less like mentorship and more like something neither of you can name. just as the line between professional and personal begins to blur, an anonymous note lands on your desk: end it, or face the consequences. with your short-lived career hanging in the balance, both of you are forced to decide what’s worth protecting more—the job both of you learned to love, or the connection that could cost you everything.

📋 read the court report here !

COURT FILE TWO : L. SANGHYEOK

witnesses : hidden genius!riwoo x associate!reader evidence presented : coworkers to lovers , lawyer!au , mutual pining , angst court report summary : sanghyeok’s a quiet, awkward paralegal in the office — always shuffling paperwork, eating alone, and dodging eye contact. but one late night, you catch him smoothly delivering legal advice that could win a multi-million-dollar case. turns out, he’s been silently shaping the firm’s biggest wins behind the scenes—and now, yours too. his brilliance was hidden behind file folders and sticky notes, in red-inked margins and late-night whispers. but as your connection deepens and the firm starts watching, you're forced to wonder: how much of your success is really yours—and how far are you willing to go for someone who was never supposed to step into the spotlight?

📋 read the court report here !

COURT FILE THREE : M. JAEHYUN

witnesses : ex/rival partner!jaehyun x partner!reader evidence presented : lawyer!au , exes to lovers , rivals to lovers , angst , fluff court report summary : you and jaehyun were law school’s golden couple—until your third year, when he took a mysterious internship offer and ghosted you. years later, you’re both junior partners and jaehyun’s now opposing counsel on the biggest case of your career. jaehyun is smooth, confident, and infuriatingly handsome, all with a teasing glint in his eye that says he hasn’t forgotten a thing. the courtroom becomes your battlefield, but outside of court? you can’t escape each other. you’re stuck in settlement meetings, run into him at the law library, and—worst of all—get assigned the same speaking panel on ethics in law. but off the record, the truths regarding your shared past start leaking out. about why he left. about why he never stopped writing. about the ring he still keeps in his drawer.

📋 read the court report here !

COURT FILE FOUR : H. DONGMIN

witnesses : judge's son!dongmin x clerk!reader evidence presented : golden retriever x black cat , lawyer!au , slow burn , fluff court report summary : as a law clerk working under a famous strict federal judge, your career rides on your ability to stay focused, silent, and out of trouble. and there’s dongmin—bright-eyed, full of charm, and always around the courthouse. you assume he’s another intern. he brings you snacks, cracks bad jokes, and waits for you after work. you fall for him in the quiet moments: eating gimbap on courthouse steps, exchanging doodles and inside jokes during long hearings. but when you’re called to a private chamber meeting with the judge, everything shatters: dongmin is his only son—and the case you’re to work on next is a complex one. a corruption trial that threatens powerful names, including dongmin's family. and you’re trapped in the middle.

📋 read the court report here !

COURT FILE FIVE : K. DONGHYUN

witnesses : civilian auto mechanic!donghyun x partner!reader evidence presented : golden retriever x black cat , lawyer!au , fluff court report summary : donghyun is your newest client—a gentle auto mechanic who’s being framed in an industrial sabotage case involving a powerful auto parts corporation. your firm takes on his case pro bono, and you’re assigned to his defense. donghyun’s soft-spoken, warm, and completely overwhelmed. he doesn’t know to “act” like a client. he brings you lunch from his shop. he smiles even when scared. you’re used to working with slick CEOs and emotionless millionaires—not men who fix your coffee machine because “the rattling sound bugged me.” but when he testifies, something clicks—he’s composed, persuasive, and observant. together, you begin piecing together the truth but your investigation drags you into dangerous territory that puts donghyun in real risk. and you’re going to do whatever it takes to defend him.

📋 read the court report here !

COURT FILE SIX : K. WOONHAK

witnesses : intern!woonhak x intern!reader evidence presented : sunshine x grumpy , fake dating!au , lawyer!au , idiots in love court report summary : when a high-profile immigration client threatens to pull funding, the firm launches a PR stunt: interns are paired into “mock” families to build empathy. you think it’s ridiculous—a hollow attempt at compassion. and you’re paired with woonhak, the annoying, bubbly and chatty intern who never stops singing in the copy room and somehow knows everyone’s coffee order. he’s everything you’re not—loud, warm, chaotic—but you reluctantly agree to play along. no feelings, no risks. but when he shows up with flowers on your fake anniversary, sends 3 am texts about “our song”, and kisses you in front of the press at the firm’s gala (wait, what?), you start to let your guard down. the engagement may be fake—but the way your hand fit in his… that was most certainly starting to feel dangerously real.

📋 read the court report here !

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[mariacallous]

WASHINGTON ― More than 5,000 people got their jobs back at the U.S. Department of Agriculture this month after a government employee oversight board concluded they had been illegally fired by Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency.

The decision by that panel, the Merit Systems Protection Board, came after it restored the jobs of six other federal employees who had been similarly fired by DOGE.

Meanwhile, this month, a federal judge blocked DOGE from firing the president of a small federal agency, the U.S. African Development Foundation, in a lawsuit that provides the clearest details yet on how DOGE operates and how it may be routinely breaking the law.

All of these legal challenges came from the same group, a well-funded progressive legal organization, Democracy Forward.

At a time when the flood of litigation against President Donald Trump’s early actions is nearly impossible to keep up with ― his administration has already been hit with more than 130 legal challenges in the span of two months ― Democracy Forward has emerged as a leading legal organization that’s been slowing, if not stopping, some of Trump’s recklessness through the courts.

The group doesn’t just stand out for the number of lawsuits it’s been filing, which include more than 28 legal actions and 67 investigations since Trump was sworn in. Democracy Forward has shown it can move quickly to step in amid Trump’s chaotic, and often illegal, efforts to dismantle entire agencies, freeze federal spending, and fire thousands of federal employees. It has intervened on behalf of individual people, unions, nonprofit groups, health care professionals, educators, veterans groups and religious groups.

And importantly, it’s been winning.

On Saturday, Democracy Forward and the American Civil Liberties Union challenged Trump’s expansion of war time powers to deport immigrants using the centuries-old Alien Enemies Act. Within hours, a federal judge issued a temporary restraining order preventing Trump from removing some people through this act ― and later that day, broadened the scope of his order to cover all immigrants in danger of removal under the act.

In another case brought by Democracy Forward, a federal judge last week reaffirmed the court’s nationwide preliminary injunction (i.e., a temporary court order to preserve the status quo) that halted Trump’s efforts to arbitrarily terminate federal grants relating to diversity, equity and inclusion, and accessibility programs. The judge reaffirmed that not only can Trump not do that, but that this temporary halt applies to all agencies in the executive branch.

The group also secured the first and only nationwide order preventing Trump from imposing a sweeping freeze on trillions of dollars in federal spending, blocked a Trump administration policy enabling immigration enforcement officers to indiscriminately raid houses of worship, and this week prompted a federal judge to slam the Trump administration’s defense of DOGE and grant a request by labor and economic organizations to get more details about the Elon Musk-led entity unlawfully accessing sensitive data at federal agencies.

The evidence the Trump administration put forward to avoid more transparency into DOGE’s operations “is not the panacea they hoped it would be,” this judge concluded.

A big reason this organization has been so adept at countering Trump in court is because it spent the last 18 months gaming out legal strategies for responding to countless policy plans laid out in Project 2025, the far-right policy blueprint that the Heritage Foundation put together in preparation for a second Trump presidency.

Democracy Forward staff indexed the entire 900-page policy playbook, broke it down into different categories, put it in a spreadsheet and meticulously laid out what legal actions they should prepare to take based on how the Trump administration was likely to proceed with various policies, whether it be through executive orders, statutes or regulations.

They also coordinated with more than 450 civil society groups and state attorneys general to prepare for different scenarios where certain groups would be impacted by Project 2025 policies, and figured out when they should team up to defend the rule of law.

Trump tried to distance himself from Project 2025 on the campaign trail because lots of its plans are extreme and unpopular. But the policy guidebook was put together by former Trump administration officials and staunch allies, so it’s not surprising to see the president now moving aggressively to enact some of its proposals, like purging tens of thousands of federal workers for political reasons or abolishing the Department of Education.

In fact, late Thursday, Trump signed an executive order to dismantle the education department. Minutes later, Democracy Forward announced it would see him in court.

“Trump’s playbook is a known playbook,” Skye Perryman, Democracy Forward’s president and CEO, told HuffPost in an interview. “The Heritage Foundation wrote it down: Project 2025. We never believed it was a talking point or hyperbole. It is the greatest threat to democracy since the Civil War.”

Democracy Forward also prepared for a second Trump presidency by gathering materials from his first administration to review what legal actions and litigation he previously pursued, whether they be related to his executive orders, immigration cases, impoundment or challenges to executive orders issued by former President Joe Biden.

The president has done some unexpected things in his second term, like tapping Musk to oversee DOGE and letting him gain access to millions of Americans’ personal data. But Perryman said her organization was primed to respond to something chaotic, and in the case of DOGE, they sued on day one.

“This is like basic stuff,” she said.

“They do not play within the rules. There is opportunity in their lawlessness,” Perryman said. “They make a lot of legal foibles.”

Democracy Forward currently represents the American Federation of Teachers in two lawsuits, one that aims to halt DOGE’s seizure of millions of people’s sensitive data from the Social Security Administration, and another challenging a new Department of Education policy threatening to withhold federal money from schools teaching accurate history about slavery and diversity.

AFT, which has more than 1.8 million members, had been preparing to fight Trump’s executive order to dissolve the Department of Education when the department unexpectedly announced a new policy of stripping federal funds from schools that support diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives, said Daniel McNeil, general counsel at AFT. So the teachers’ group asked Democracy Forward if they wanted to team up to fight that, too.

“They already had something ready to go,” McNeil said. “It took working through the entire weekend to get it done, but they weren’t fazed at all by the fact that something else happened.”

AFT is working with other legal groups suing the Trump administration, he said, and they’re also doing good work. What’s unique about Democracy Forward’s model, though, is that they have their own attorneys doing the litigating versus hiring outside firms, and they have experts on staff, like someone who previously worked in the general counsel’s office at the Department of Education. They’ve also just been anticipating specific legal fights, he said.

“Of all the groups that were warning about Project 2025, they were systematically planning for the legal fight in the event that Trump were elected,” said McNeil. “For months in advance, they were thinking in a way that was like, ‘How do we challenge an executive order that does X? Who is the right party to challenge if Y happens?’ I think that’s what makes them different.”

Democracy Forward first launched in 2017, in response to what it described as the first Trump administration’s “unprecedented” threats to democracy and the rule of law. By 2019, it had sued his administration more than 100 times and chalked up several wins, including forcing the administration to collect pay data from employers based on race, gender and ethnicity, and forcing the FDA to regulate e-cigarettes.

Both Democracy Forward and its nonprofit counterpart, Democracy Forward Foundation, are chaired by Marc Elias, who served as general counsel for Hillary Clinton’s 2016 presidential campaign. The nonprofit is funded entirely by individual donors and philanthropic institutions. Its major donors include the Sandler Foundation, which gave $16 million from 2018 to 2023, and the Susan Thompson Buffett Foundation, which gave $5.6 million from 2021 to 2023.

Democracy Forward was operating with a budget of about $12.4 million in 2023, the most recent year its tax filings are available.

The organization has been hiring up for Trump’s second term. Last month, it brought on more litigators, public affairs specialists and operations personnel ― several of whom are seasoned former federal staffers from agencies that Democracy Forward will likely be seeing in court amid its lawsuits against the Trump administration, including the Justice Department, the Department of Health and Human Services, and the Interior Department.

One of its newest hires, Joel McElvain, was the acting deputy general counsel at HHS, where he was responsible for legal advice on all matters relating to Medicare and Medicaid statutes and the Affordable Care Act. Another recent hire, Michael Waldman, was special counsel at the Department of Veterans Affairs, where he advised the secretary on oversight matters and managed the department’s responses to congressional inquiries.

Shawn Phetteplace of Main Street Alliance, a network of roughly 30,000 small business owners that support left-of-center policies, has worked with Democracy Forward for years and is currently represented by them in three cases against the Trump administration. One case relates to the Office of Management and Budget’s freeze on billions of dollars on Jan. 27 in congressional approved federal grants being disbursed.

This funding freeze resulted in multiple small business owners having their money cut off, to the point where they weren’t sure if they could continue to operate, said Phetteplace. Within hours of OMB announcing its new directive, Democracy Forward requested a temporary restraining order in federal court. A judge granted that order on Feb. 3, and by Feb. 25, the judge granted a preliminary injunction, blocking the nationwide freeze from taking effect, for now.

“They keep winning,” Phetteplace said of Democracy Forward. “For our members, this isn’t theoretical. This is whether or not they stay in business.”

He chalks up some of the group’s success to the public-facing push it makes on the cases it’s fighting. He gave the example of Main Street Alliance members reaching out to the group to talk about how their businesses were hurt by Trump’s policies, and then how litigation has helped them. Democracy Forward has been incorporating those stories into its public statements as it moves forward with various lawsuits.

“They understand that it is really important to shape the public narrative around the issue and educate the public about the stakes,” he said. “That helps them make a stronger case.”

To be sure, Democracy Forward has faced setbacks in stemming Trump’s chaos, and that’s due to at least some of its victories being temporary. Last month, it filed emergency litigation in response to Trump’s plans to unilaterally defund the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, a financial watchdog agency. Their quick legal action resulted in the administration backing off its plans, instead agreeing to wait until a related case was heard in court.

A federal judge has since heard that case ― and this week denied the plaintiffs’ request to halt the administration’s plans for CFPB.

Temporary wins are still wins. When a judge issues a temporary restraining order or a preliminary injunction, it immediately blocks an action and buys time. Preliminary injunctions in particular can drag on for a long time. Democracy Forward and other groups have already demonstrated that collectively taking these legal steps has a real effect on slowing Trump’s unlawful, everywhere-all-at-once approach to dismantling the federal government.

Democracy Forward chalked up another temporary, but significant, victory in one of its cases late on Thursday: A federal judge blocked DOGE workers from accessing Social Security systems, calling the Musk-led efforts at this agency a “fishing expedition.”

“This is a major win for working people and retirees across the country,” said Lee Saunders, president of the American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees, one of the plaintiffs in the case. “This decision will not only force them to delete any data they have currently saved, but it will also block them from further sharing, accessing or disclosing our Social Security information.”

Some Trump allies are mad at the success that Democracy Forward and other groups have found in the courts, particularly in cases where judges have issued nationwide injunctions halting some of the president’s actions. In a nonsensical show of fealty to Trump, Sen. Josh Hawley (R-Mo.) on Thursday vowed to introduce legislation to prevent U.S. district court judges from issuing nationwide injunctions ― something that is, in fact, their jobs.

“That is not a power that I think district courts have,” Hawley, a Yale Law School alum who knows better, claimed on The Charlie Kirk Show, a far-right podcast. “Either the Supreme Court needs to intervene and make clear there’s only one court that can issue rules for the whole country … and/or, if they won’t do that, Congress needs to legislate and make clear that district courts do not have the ability to issue these kinds of injunctions.”

For her part, Perryman said one reason it’s important to slow things down in the courts is because it creates transparency on what Trump is actually doing. Doing so gives Americans a better understanding of the illegality of his actions, she said, and forces his administration to keep answering for what it’s doing.

“Understand that chaos is part of the strategy,” she said.

“Every day in litigation, what we see in this administration is they back off,” Perryman added. “Because really, the purpose is to see what they can do quickly. They don’t hold great conviction. There is opportunity in that.”

[kingkat12]

euphoria (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: spanking, fingering, hair-pulling, clit-play, pussy-slaps, dom/sub, name-calling, praise, fluff (believe it or not), angst, aftercare, Roman is an ass (surprise lol)

summary: what happens when a certain someone comes home early from his work-trip in a really untimely matter? but maybe the main question isn't what-- maybe it is why?

word count: 10,848

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a/n: oh how I loved writing this chapter... the smut scene got so long because I spent a whole day only writing, AHH how I love summer break!!!!! enjoy lovelies<3333

I've never been good at emotional stuff-- containing it, working through it, understanding it. But anger? Anger, I was good at.

Peter laughed at something one of his colleagues said, effortless as ever, as I stood at his side, nodding along to a conversation I only caught half of; something about pre-litigation strategy, and a new partner hire who might be a walking HR violation. I hated thinking about HR. Why did we have to talk about HR? Fucking HR. Just thinking about the HR lady made my heart push up into my throat, clogging my airway, making me worry I'd start wheezing like a child that had swallowed a chew toy. 

I was also a walking HR violation, yet Peter had no idea. None, whatsoever. Would he want to be here with me at this nice banquet if he knew I was? Definitely not. Certainly so. 

Nodding along to the conversation between the legal team for Godfrey Industries, swirling my drink, trying not to look so guilty, I wondered where Mr. Godfrey was tonight; probably some rooftop in Switzerland once again, surrounded by models whose cheekbones could slice glass, surrounded by women he probably wanted to fuck. 

Mr. Godfrey didn't want to fuck me. He didn't even want me to touch him. How could I disgust him so?

If only he were here to see me now; I was dressed to kill and standing beside Peter, the hottest paralegal in the office who only had eyes for me, who wanted me. I should have been glowing from the attention. I should have been containing my giggles, blushing, wrapping my arms around his, clinging to him like a giddy date probably did in normal instances, but instead, I felt like the wilting, dying orchid in the corner of Mr. Godfrey's office. 

"Hey,"

Peter's voice cut through the legal chatter, low and careful, meant only for me; my eyes darted up to his, wide. His hand ghosted the small of my back again, grounding me in a way I didn't deserve. "You good? You've barely touched your drink."

I blinked, caught. "Oh," I mumbled, swirling the contents of my champagne flute. "I-- yeah, I'm good."

Peter gave me a look; lawyer instincts, surely. "Uh-huh,"

I smiled, a little sheepish, and took a sip to prove a point. "Happy now?"

"Hmm... I'll settle for now, in favour of peace in the court," He stepped a little closer, shielding us from the others with the easy slope of his body, his voice warm enough to melt the ice climbing up my spine. "You know," he murmured, leading me away. "I was half-convinced you'd bail on me tonight. Figured I'd get some text last minute saying 'sorry, food poisoning, maybe next year'."

That garnered a real giggle; "You really have that little faith in me, Peter?"

"Come on, kid, how would I know?" Peter grinned, shrugging as he looked back, checking that our desertion went unnoticed. God, it was annoying how kind his face was; open, honest, and safe. With him walking so close, I could smell his muted cologne, the cloud of dreamy musk, and I couldn't believe I wasn't able to feel the same way about him as I felt about my asshole boss. Peter was fucking perfect.

I sighed, looking up at the sunshine walking next to me; "Well, surprise, I showed up. And I'm glad I came, Peter,"

It wasn't a lie. I was glad. I loved hanging out with Peter. He always looked at me like I was whole, like I hadn't been chewed up by a man who could unmake me with one glance. I loved being near Peter, because standing next to him and his kind eyes never failed to give me the illusion of being someone different-- someone good.

"That's good to hear, because you look...." Peter paused, scratching the back of his neck like he didn't want to overstep. "You look amazing. Just-- yeah. You look great."

My chest ached; I wished that compliment would land the way it was meant to. I wished I could believe him instead of wondering if Mr. Godfrey would even notice me in this dress, or if he'd just raise a bored eyebrow and return to his drink and long line of supermodels. I felt so unworthy of Peter's eyes, his words, his kindness; maybe Mr. Godfrey should link him up with one of those Swiss models too? He deserved that much. 

I smiled anyway, feeling my cheeks redden as my pulse quickened. "Thank you," I breathed. "You look really good, too."

"Ah, is that right?" Peter cocked his head to the side, his smirk curling. "Guess I'll have to wear actual suits more often, huh?"

"You say that like you don't wear one to work every day,"

"Yeah, but I don't usually do the whole pocket square thing." He gestured down at himself; "This was for you, obviously."

"Noted," I smiled, even though it hurt-- God, I was really leading him on, wasn't I? 

Before Peter could snark back, already laughing, someone called out behind us.

"Rumancek!"

Peter winced, half-laughed, and turned. I could see his face melt with annoyance the second he saw who it was, letting out a small groan, accompanied by a roll of his eyes. "Sorry," he tried, already backing away as he sent me that apologetic look I knew too well. "That's Kyle. If I don't go hear him brag about his latest settlement, the bastard will explode. Two minutes, max?"

"No worries," I murmured, nodding along. "I'll be here, or passed out drunk over the ledge of the balcony. Either or."

Peter's brown eyes shimmered, charmed; "Not on my watch, young lady,"

Within seconds, he melted into the crowd, swallowed by suits and the warm, polite, rich laughter echoing through the banquet hall. I watched him go, the ghost of his cologne still clinging to my wrist like a secret, but as I turned, wondering where the waiter with the nice snacks was, I felt something in the air shift.

It was subtle, like a ripple under the surface of still water. The hair on the nape of my neck stood up; my instincts were ablaze. What was this?

I turned on my high heels, ears perking up, scouring the hall, until--

The sea of people opened up.

Standing near the entrance, talking to one of the board members, dressed in that signature black-on-black, was the man who wasn't supposed to be back until 23:47 tomorrow. That was the time of his flight. It was on the damn schedule. I had scheduled that damn flight. 

Roman Godfrey.

He was scanning the room with his usual disinterest, lips slightly parted, eyes sharp and heavy-lidded like he was always thinking something awful, yet he somehow managed to keep a charming smile as he talked to the key members of the company. He was good at this. This was his forte. 

Mr. Godfrey looked like sin. Mr. Godfrey was sin. Hair slicked back just enough to show off the cut of his cheekbones, the soft, spoiled curl at the ends betraying how young he still was— young enough to be reckless, young enough to get away with it. He was drunk on this, wasn't he? The power he wielded when he entered a room. Forbes nose, Forbes nose, Forbes nose. Unfair.

But then, before I could do anything to stop it, Mr. Godfrey's green eyes found mine with carved precision-- had he been looking for me?

My breath caught.

For a moment, we just looked at each other. No expression. No smile. I felt my skin burn beneath my dress, all the way down to my bones; my chest raised, heaved, as I refused to back down from the staring contest, refused, refused. 

Mr. Godfrey was back. Death had come for me.

And with a growing, sly smirk, he raised his hand, motioning for me to approach with the same two fingers he had once rubbed my clit with. 

That was when something cracked inside of me; I let out a choked laugh of disbelief, feeling the anger boil inside of me. Hello? Who did he think I was, his servant? A waiter? Why did he think he could call on me like that, like he didn't have the energy to walk over to me himself? I flailed my free hand, lips parting, grimacing back at him to show what I thought of him, silently telling him off. 

Irked, I watched as Mr. Godfrey gave in to a slight twitch of his head, his green gaze narrowing. The next twitch was deliberate, more of a come here motion, and that in turn set off a twitch in my eye, along with a shake of my head. 

War. This was war. Anger, I was good at.

But... Mr. Godfrey was better.

Because he didn't need to raise his voice. He didn't need to snap his fingers.

He just looked at me, like he knew every inch of my body under this dress, every secret curled up in the pit of my stomach, every thought I'd had about him since the second he left for Geneva. Some of those secrets, I had given him for free though, through that fucking drunk email. Mr. Godfrey's expression was darkly amused, but underneath it, I saw it; the irritation, the nerve I had struck by disobeying my dominant. 

Then, like it was inevitable, like he was bored with the charade, he lifted two fingers again. Slow. Deliberate. The same motion. Not playful this time, not even smug. Just... final.

Come.

My stomach twisted.

And surely enough, my heels carried me before my brain could stop them, slicing through the crowd like I had purpose, like I wasn't being called across the floor like some pet. My heart pounded with humiliation, heat, fury, but I obeyed. I fucking obeyed. 

I reached him just as his conversation tapered off, just as the board member excused himself with a pat on Mr. Godfrey's shoulder and a lingering glance my way. 

Mr. Godfrey didn't look at me, not right away-- he didn't have to. He simply took his glass from the table beside him, sipped slowly, and murmured, low enough only I could hear;

"Took you long enough," he said. "Enjoying your evening?"

I didn't answer-- I didn't want to. I stared past him like I hadn't heard him. Was that all he had to say to me? Was that it? Was he seriously leading with small talk?

Mr. Godfrey clicked his tongue, amused by my antics. "Ah," he said. "We're doing this."

"Doing what?" I snapped.

"You not looking at me, and me entertaining it," He cocked his head, waiting for me to glare at him. "That's not how this works, though. You know it."

"How what works, exactly?"

"You and I," Mr. Godfrey gave up on trying to get my attention; instead, he positioned himself next to me, looking out on the guests as he calmly sipped his champagne. 

I had to do everything in my power to not fold my arms over my chest and pierce his foot with my sharp heel. "Okay, then. Then maybe I don't think I like how you and I work anymore," 

A pause. The sound of the party humming behind us-- cutlery, laughter, some jazz quartet in the corner. He didn't rise to meet my anger; that was the worst part. "I see," he said. "So what is this? A tantrum?"

"No,"

"No?"

"I throw tantrums when I want you to manage them, but that was when I trusted that you wouldn't go too far," Going against him like this made my fingers tremble around my glass, and I had to force myself to continue; "You overstepped. You hurt me."

"Aw," Mr. Godfrey drawled, tilting his head, clearly mocking me. "And here I thought you liked a little pain."

Asshole. 

Finally, I turned to look at him, immediately met with his green eyes. Infuriatingly enough, he had that look about him that told me he was convinced this was a joke-- that this was part of our play, that this was part of our dance. "Not that kind," I muttered.

Mr. Godfrey's gaze flickered, searching my face for the truth, and finding-- what? More performance? A scene? He tilted his head slightly, mouth set in that careless, impenetrable line. "Mm," he hummed. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Oh, fuck you," This was clearly about the Swiss models-- did he not realize?

Seemingly not. Mr. Godfrey only smiled, evil yet charming. "Is that what this is?" he asked, quiet. "You missed me, so you're biting?"

"I didn't miss you,"

"Didn't you?"

"I didn't even know you'd be here,"

Of all things, that landed. A fractional pause fall, small, but enough to let me know he was finally paying attention. His lashes dropped slightly over his eyes, gaze narrowing. "No?" he murmured. "Did you not see the schedule change?"

"No,"

"You always check that," he mumbled. "Slacking off, then?"

"No," Fucker. "It's a Sunday. I don't work for you on the weekend."

"Then who dragged you out?"

Something told me that Mr. Godfrey was genuinely curious, maybe a bit shocked? I waited a beat, let the silence press in between us like a knife, as my eyes narrowed further; "I came with Peter,"

He didn't blink. He didn't breathe. He didn't do anything.

For a moment, I almost wondered if Mr. Godfrey had heard me at all. But then, slowly, I watched the corners of his mouth curl-- not in a smile, not even in anger, but in something colder, something almost like disbelief. "My paralegal?" he chuckled, mocking as ever. "That's original!"

My eye twitched; I wanted to smack him. For the first time ever, I genuinely considered it. I bet he'd moan. Twisted fucker. "Better than spending a week in Switzerland with a harem," I hissed. "Or was it a business trip? Who knows."

Mr. Godfrey's expression didn't shift much, but something behind his eyes sparked. Not rage. Not offense. Amusement, maybe? Finally, he knew what this was about. His fingers curled tighter around the glass, slow and measured, like he was restraining a grin. His pupils didn't shrink-- they narrowed, sharp and calculating. "You've got a lot of nerve talking to me like that," he said, voice low, but not threatening. He sounded entertained, like he was watching a show, like this was the moment he had been waiting for all week.

"Says the man that gets off on being challenged," I huffed. "Don't act like this isn't exactly what you wanted. Why else would you call the paparazzi when you went to that party?" I dared to glare up at Mr. Godfrey, hoping he'd feel my wrath; "I'm not fucking stupid. I know how those things work."

A flash of something showed on his face, barely-there, lightning-quick, but I caught it-- oh, I caught it.

"I don't want to do this tonight," I said, standing my ground. "You said you'd be gone for a week. I want my whole week of peace."

Mr. Godfrey's laugh was short, almost a snort-- "Wow," he said under his breath. "I thought we were enjoying the same game here." He took a step forward, eyes scanning me with that slow, assessing look that always made my stomach twist. "What, the models upset you? I was giving you something to bite back over." Mr. Godfrey's smile curled, but it didn't reach his green eyes; "Come on, now. Don't tell me you've forgotten how this works," he added, lips curling, voice edged in that same boyish mischief he always used when he wanted to keep things unserious. "Play with me, won't you? Or are we rewriting the rules?"

... Seriously?

Was this all a game to him?

Before my brain could churn through the possibilities, Mr. Godfrey took one last step forward, which in turn had me backing into a nearby table; he leaned forward, brushing it off as him putting away his drink, smooth and planned. His lips hovered just above the shell of my ear; "You think I flew in early across the ocean just to leave you alone?"

No. 

No, no, no.

He wouldn't come here for me. He wouldn't. This was yet another cheap trick in the book, wasn't it? Typical heartbreaker, that's what he was. How had I not seen it before now? That would've worked on me a week ago, but not now, not after the whole ordeal with the Swiss models. He took it too far. Still, we hadn't agreed on exclusivity-- that word was probably not even in his vocabulary. Did I have a right to be upset? 

My breath caught, and a shiver travelled down my spine; Mr. Godfrey's breath was warm. I felt beyond warm too, and I was sure I'd start boiling at this rate if he didn't move. Surely, this whole ordeal hadn't lasted for more than a few seconds, but as I found myself unable to breathe, I stared up at him, wide-eyed, silently begging him to move. 

"I don't know why you came," I said, breathless. "But now I wish you hadn't."

Mr. Godfrey stilled.

For a moment, just one slim, suspended moment, Mr. Godfrey looked at me like he had never seen me before. Not the girl from the interview, not the secretary he tormented, not the girl who folded under his tone-- something in his gaze shifted, cracked at the edges. Maybe it was confusion, maybe it was restraint? Maybe it was the very first flicker of doubt that I wasn't playing anymore?

With that, slowly, he stepped back. Just a fraction, though-- just enough to let the air cool between us, just enough to let me pass.

And I didn't wait for him to change his mind.

My heels scraped hard against the floor as I moved, fury twisting in every step. I didn't look back; I wouldn't. Tonight was mine. Tonight, I had authority too. Just because he cut his trip short, shouldn't mean that I had to adhere to his antics? 

But then, the second I thought I had gotten away, a hand caught my wrist-- not harshly, not even tightly, but like it was automatic. Mr. Godfrey yanked me back like he had already decided I belonged to him, and this was just part of how the night would go.

Now, the smirk was wiped off his face-- now, he was pissed. 

"Fine," he hissed through gritted teeth, no longer caring if people were watching. I was his property in his mind, anyway, and he could do as he pleased, right? "You want to be like that? Be like that. But you're gonna go talk to Derek, the lead of catering, and tell him this party needs ice. And while you're at it, count how many glasses are left at each station. I don't want anyone bitching about shortages. Get it sorted, and do it now."

I would've gasped, had we not been surrounded by people-- I should've known that he would do this, I should've known he wouldn't let me get away so easily. This was my punishment, wasn't it? Staring up at my boss, blinded by his violent beauty, the green of his eyes, the caramel brown of his hair, the looming authority with which he held me, I couldn't believe this was happening; "I don't work for you tonight," I huffed, trying to get out of his grip, but to no avail. "Find the fucking party coordinator lady, this is not my!--"

"You work for me always," Mr. Godfrey hissed, tightening his hold. "And you will do as I say."

It slipped out of me before I could think about the possible repercussions; "No!"

A beat.

Way too long.

"... No?!" Mr. Godfrey looked like he was about to explode. "What did you just say to me?"

Finally, I yanked my wrist hard enough for him to let me go; "No!"

The word echoed, sharp and crystalline, slicing through the low din of the party, but not loud enough to draw eyes; it was just enough to seal it between us.

No one else seemed to notice. The music swelled over it, masking the crack in the air, laughter clinked against champagne glasses, like I hadn't just signed my doom. We could've been arguing about napkins for all anyone knew, for all they cared. 

But he knew, and I knew, and that would be enough.

I didn't dare to see how he'd react-- I knew this would cost me. I knew I had just carved a line in the sand I couldn't step back over, but I turned anyway. My heels bit against the marble floor as I walked away, eyes forward, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. I didn't breathe until I saw the silhouette of Peter's black suit; here, I was safe.

But Peter saw me before I even reached him.

His smile, that warm, crooked thing that usually lived somewhere between mischief and charm, had been replaced by what looked like a glare. His eyes flicked over me, reading the tightness in my shoulders, the way my lips were pressed together too hard, the raw, blinking shine still wet in my lashes, before he stared back at the perpetrator-- Mr. Godfrey.

When I approached him, on the brink of hyperventilating, Peter reached one arm out, pulling me closer by my waist, immediately sensing my distress. "What the hell was what?" he asked, not accusatory, but concerned. "I didn't think he'd be back until--"

"I know," I said, breathless. "He's an ass. He just... he--" My voice cracked down the middle, a quiet, trembling thing; "Can you drive me home?"

Peter's fingers curled slightly at my waist. He looked over my shoulder again, jaw ticking. "Home? Yeah. Of course. But-- are you sure? I can talk to him,"

"No!" Too fast, too sharp. Fuck. "Please don't. Just... don't."

He looked at me, visibly torn. "You're shaking,"

"It's fine," I lied. "I just-- I need to go. Please, Peter."

He... didn't budge.

"Peter," I touched his chest lightly, just above his lapel. "You're not going to get through to him. And even if you say something, he'll just make it worse for me tomorrow."

His eyes searched mine, reluctant and unreadable. "You shouldn't have to deal with this,"

"I know," I whispered. "But I do."

For a long moment, Peter just looked at me-- really looked. We stood in the middle of the party like we were underwater, everyone else blurred to nothing. I could see him deciding; hero or bystander. Rage or mercy.

Finally, after a beat that nearly broke me, he exhaled. "Okay," he said, soft. "Come on, kid."

Peter wrapped an arm more firmly around my waist this time, possessive without meaning to be (or maybe a little?), and started leading me toward the exit. I kept my chin low, my eyes lower, trying not to be seen or noticed.

Still, I knew that was impossible. I knew Mr. Godfrey was here somewhere, watching this, drinking it in-- he wasn't going to let me get away so easily, was he?

I dared to look up, and I immediately found him stood near the tall windows, half-turned from a cluster of investors, his body tense in that controlled, tight way I'd come to recognize when he was mad. One hand still clutched the champagne, but the other had curled into a fist at his side, knuckles stark white. He wasn't listening to the man talking beside him, not really-- his eyes were locked on Peter's arm around my waist.

And then they flicked up.

Met mine.

And that was what it took for me to press closer to Peter, away from Mr. Godfrey, away from this party. This wasn't the clean break that I had wanted-- this was a warning shot, and I had just fired it at the worst possible target.

This could cost me everything.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The night air was cooler than I expected, brushing against my bare shoulders, but it cleared my head a little. My heels clicked on the pavement, slower now. Peter matched my pace easily, hands in his pockets, looking so much more at ease than I felt.

"You know," Peter said as we reached the front step of my apartment. "I half expected Roman to throw a drink at me."

I gave a weak laugh, stopping in front of the door. "I think he wanted to. Maybe next time,"

"Better bring a poncho," he said with a half-smile, his brown eyes never leaving mine. For a second, we just stood there; him with one step down, while that usual crooked mischief quieted in his expression, replaced with something far gentler. He was reading me, trying to decide if I was still breaking, or just beginning to bend back into shape.

Peter's hands were still in his pockets, but he leaned forward slightly, like his body was pulled toward mine without him meaning to. "You sure you're okay?"

My heart hurt; "You don't have to do this," I started, gentle and low. 

"What do you mean?" The question was so simple in his mind. "Make sure you're fine?"

"Yeah," I breathed-- my hand reached to linger at the door knob, shifting my weight from one heel to another. Suddenly, I couldn't meet his gaze. I couldn't face him. "Thank you for driving me home, and for the lovely evening, and for being so kind, but... I don't deserve this."

"Nonsense," was the immediate response. 

That made my eyes dart up to look at Peter, the porch light catching the silver at the tips of his dark lashes. His jaw was tense, but his smile was soft, almost reverent, like he saw something noble in me that I couldn't. "Nonsense," he echoed. "You deserve good things, kid. Don't let Roman convince you otherwise. I've seen countless girls like you come and go out of his office, one more broken than the other, but you can't let him break you. Not when you shine so bright."

My throat tightened, my lips parted-- suddenly, my head felt light. Was this how it was supposed to feel? "Peter--" I started, but there was nothing to follow it with except for the sudden ache behind my ribs like someone had struck me there. Peter looked at me like I hadn't already been burned, used, and destroyed, and that... that felt unreal.

"You're not just some secretary," Peter said, quieter now. "You're just hurting, and-- and he saw that and pushed, didn't he?"

I looked down, blinking too hard; this was hitting closer to home than I had expected. "You don't want to know," I breathed. "You wouldn't look at me the same."

With a sigh, Peter reached out, hesitant at first, and touched my arm; a warm and grounding touch. "I see you just as you are," he murmured. "And I like what I see."

There was a pause. That undid me more than I expected-- my heart stuttered in that small silence, and when our eyes met again, something passed between us, uncomplicated, for once. No power games. No traps. Just kindness, and maybe even longing?

Peter's eyes dropped briefly to my lips. Not in the lustful way I was used to-- just a flicker, a beat too long. His body shifted ever so slightly closer, shoulders angling in, and suddenly, it felt like there was a question floating between us, one I didn't quite have the courage to voice.

"You want me to stay?" he asked, low, like he wasn't sure himself.

I didn't answer. I didn't know. I didn't dare.

"I could--" he started, a breath closer. "Just for a minute. We could talk. Or not? Whatever you need."

Fuck. My pulse was going through the roof, I was sure my hands were clammy, my eyes had widened beyond retrieval, but then...

The door finally clicked open behind me, cool air brushing past my ankles. I should have said goodnight, should have stepped inside and closed the door and let it end sweet and clean-- but I didn't.

I lingered...

And Peter noticed.

The thing is, I wanted comfort. I wanted to feel like I wasn't spiralling alone, like someone saw the mess and didn't flinch, or didn't want to make me flinch because of it. Still, I also knew this wasn't neutral-- Peter wanted to be the one I turned to, the one I leaned on, the one I kissed.

His hand ran down my arm, slowly, his fingers brushing mine-- just a featherlight touch, waiting for permission.

I didn't move. Didn't pull away. I think, maybe, I wanted to see if I still had that effect on anyone, if someone could still want me without breaking me open; Peter wouldn't ever want to break me. He'd want me whole. Breathing. Happy. Unbothered, pampered, content, calm, neutered, and nice. I could be nice, right? I didn't have to run my filthy mouth all the time? I could stop getting off at inappropriate times and places? I could be normal. I could be the perfect, sweet girl. I could be. I really think I could be.

And then, Peter leaned in-- slow, respectful, letting me stop him. His breath was warm, his nose just brushing mine, and my heart thudded hard once in my chest, and--

I almost let him.

Almost.

Because suddenly, in the cold night air, in front of my open apartment door, it hit me that I couldn't.

I couldn't be normal. I couldn't play nice. I didn't want to be unbothered-- I wanted to be set on fire. I wanted gasoline to be poured all over me, to feel my blood boil, to feel my body melt, because only then would I feel alive. My mouth needed to run. My skin needed to burn with the sting. 

I... couldn't go back. Not after having met Mr. Godfrey. 

I was ruined. I was filthy. I was me. Peter didn't want the real me-- he didn't know the real me. If he knew, he'd run for the hills. He'd know I was used up. He'd know I had been defiled by the one man he couldn't stand. 

So, with Peter's lips barely an inch away from mine, his warm breath ghosting over my upper lip, I dared to speak; "I should get some sleep,"

Immediately, Peter pulled back. "Yeah," he said, clearing his throat, suddenly all nerves. "Of course. Yeah, totally."

My heart hurt for him-- my heart hurt for us. 

I leaned forward, wrapped my arms around him, and pressed my cheek to his chest; this felt better. This felt right. I liked hugging Peter-- he froze only for a second before folding into the hug, his chin brushing the top of my head, holding me like I was something delicate but not breakable, like I was allowed to just be held. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, eyes welling up with tears. 

Peter held me tighter, arms wrapping all the way around like he could shelter me from the weight of my own words. "Don't be," he said into my hair. "You don't owe me anything."

I pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes glassy, the porch light haloing his silhouette; his brows were drawn, like he wanted to understand but knew better than to press. "I wish I met you before," I breathed. "Before all of this. Before I turned into someone I don't recognize."

He cupped the side of my face, careful, his thumb brushing a tear I didn't know had fallen. "You don't always have to bleed to earn good things. Not everything has to be a battle. It will come to you in a few years, trust me," With a sigh, Peter leaned in again, just enough to press his forehead to mine, and his voice came soft and certain; "But when you do feel like you've done enough suffering to deserve something nice... I'm here."

Oh, how that gutted me-- that kind of gentleness always did.

I mustered the strength to nod, barely, and stepped back. To steady myself, my hand found the doorframe, and I felt like my brain was fighting the enormous shutdown I was holding back. Everything Peter had said made so much sense-- maybe he actually saw me more than I thought? I couldn't think about it. Not now, not here. 

"Goodnight, Peter," I whispered, a small smile accompanying my words. "Thank you for tonight. I had a great time."

"I'm glad," His smile was small, tired, but real. "Goodnight, kid."

I watched Peter retreat down the steps, hands back in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched like he had left with more weight than he came with-- fuck. 

I closed the door only once I couldn't see him anymore, and then I leaned my forehead against it. I didn't cry-- not really. I just... stood there. Hollowed out. Full of warmth I didn't know how to carry.

Peter was light...

But I had already been claimed by the dark. 

Not only claimed, actually-- consumed. Because the only thought that remained after I'd allowed myself a little breakdown, was damage control. Damage control. Damage control. 

Mr. Godfrey was going to make my life hell. He had seen me leave with Peter, I had openly defied him, and... 

I knew there was only one thing to do to maybe make tomorrow just a smidge easier.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I stared down at my desk, nudging the stapler for the fifth time to make sure it was aligned with the edge of the table. This was crazy. This was nuts. Why was I doing this, and why was I doing this at two in the morning?

After Peter, after everything, and after I had gotten out of my dress... 

I ran back to work.

Back to this desk, this office, these goddamn pens, as if putting them in order might put me back in order too.

So here I was, nudging my stapler, sorting my pens, and wiping my computer screen in the exact same outfit I had worn to work a few days ago. Sick fuck. Heart hammering like I was about to go out on stage and give a speech, I walked back and forth, back and forth, to make sure I hadn't missed anything. 

I couldn't sit still; I wanted there to be nothing Mr. Godfrey could take me for. I knew he was now going to wreak havoc in my life again, I knew he was going to try to make my life hell, and this was my way of trying to cushion the fall. 

After having gone up against him, it felt like my brain had melted and become mush. How could I do that? How did I manage to tell him no? In that moment, that had felt like the biggest rush, but now...

What the hell had I done?

Hyperventilating, I nudged the stapler a bit to the left, feeling my eyes well up with tears all over again. I had also messed everything up with Peter. I had realized that everything that had happened between me and Mr. Godfrey had caused irrevocable damage, because hello-- how the fuck had I allowed myself to be driven to the point where I was having a breakdown at the office at two in the morning?!

I swiped at my eyes quickly, angrily, then turned back toward my desk again... only to freeze at the sound of footsteps echoing down the marble hallway outside.

Slow.

Measured.

Unmistakable.

I knew that walk-- I knew the rhythm of his shoes like the back of my hand.

The click of his shoes drew closer, and I didn't move; I couldn't. I stood by my desk like a kid caught sneaking out, blinking through the leftover blur of tears, still wearing my black office heels, wearing my usual office attire like a fucking maniac.

My stomach flipped violently when I realized how close he was, but I didn't run. I straightened my spine like it would save me, like posture could hide panic. The steps then came with absurd slowness, like he knew the sound alone would be enough to skin me.

And then---

There he was.

I spun around to face him; Roman Godfrey stood behind me, framed in the low office light like some half-dressed specter of everything I had ever wanted and shouldn't have touched. His coat was open over his shirt, a few buttons undone. No tie. His hair was damp at the ends like he had just stepped out of the rain or a scalding shower, and his jaw was tight.

"What... the fuck," he hissed, vicious; "are you doing here?"

That was it. No greeting. No smile. No teasing quip. Just quiet, simmering fury.

I let out a shaky breath, realizing I was cornered; there was nowhere to go. My back hit the desk, and my hands went to grab at it like it would save me. "I could-- I could ask you the same thing,"

"You could, sure," he said, voice low and threatening, eyes dark like never before. "But this whole building? The one you've technically trespassed? It's mine."

I flinched. He didn't yell, but God, it was worse than yelling. That cold authority, that quiet confidence that he could have me arrested or worse, and I wouldn't even put up a fight; I was already breathless. "I didn't break in," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I have a key. You know I have a key."

"Oh, a key," he scoffed, tone mocking, gesturing at the spotless desk. "So this is just a normal night for you? Rearranging office supplies at two a.m. in your little secretary costume? Jesus."

I bit my lip to keep it from trembling-- I wasn't ready to cry again, not yet. But Mr. Godfrey just kept looking at me like he didn't recognize me, like I was a problem he couldn't categorize, and it was killing me. 

"You look unhinged," he finally said, taking me in from head to toe with something like disgust. "What is this? Did you lose your mind while I was gone?"

Something inside me snapped-- enough.

"Maybe your OCD rubbed off on me," I muttered. "Maybe now I'm just as fucked up as you are."

The moment the words left my mouth, the silence that followed was so thick it might as well have died. Mr. Godfrey went utterly still. His jaw clenched once, then again, like he was grinding down a scream between his molars.

And then--

He exploded.

"That's enough!" he barked. "You think you get to act like this because what? I left the country for a week?! I don't know who made you such a brat, or why you think you can act the way you've done tonight, because I've given you everything you've ever asked for!"

"That's-- You don't even let me touch you!" I cried, voice breaking. "You let me need you, and then you punish me for it! All I ever wanted from you was some-- some basic decency, you spoiled piece of shit!"

"Decency? Decency?" His laugh was dry, bitter; "You wanted this! You asked for it! You even got down on your fucking knees and begged for it! So don't turn around and act like a victim now, just because I didn't behave exactly how you fantasized!"

"I'm not!--"

"You've wanted exactly what I've been giving you, so I don't get why you suddenly want out!"

"I don't want out!" I yelled, angrily wiping away my tears. "I just didn't-- I didn't think you'd run off with a bunch of models!"

"Oh, fuck you!" Mr. Godfrey snapped-- his words boomed so loud, I was sure the walls of the office shook. His fists had balled, his jacket had been tossed to the floor, and his ears had gone red from all the screaming. "You're just assuming things, but you're the one who ran to Peter the second I left the country! You even went home with him!"

I let out a sob, realizing there was no stopping my tears; "Nothing happened with Peter!" I cried. "Because you've made me sick! I'm sick! There's something wrong with me now, and-- and!--" My voice was hoarse, and I could barely finish my sentences. Saying it out loud just made it a thousand times worse, and I broke apart. "Please just do something!" I sobbed, shamelessly letting my tears fall. "Just-- please, I can't!-- I can't snap out of this, I need!-- I need you to-- snap me out of this!"

Stunned, Mr. Godfrey's green eyes widened, staring at the crying mess in front of him. I bet he hadn't expected a full breakdown like this, not at two in the morning, not when he had probably come here to fetch some file or God knows what. Mr. Godfrey's chest heaved from all the yelling as he stared at me, really looked at me, for the first time since I had started unraveling. The storm in his green eyes faltered, cracking just enough for something softer to seep through, something painfully close to concern.

He didn't say a word. He knew what I needed. 

Mr. Godfrey stepped forward. Reached out. Grabbed my wrist with a firm grip that barely hurt but left no room for argument, and started pulling me toward the door to his office.

"Wait--" I tried, but he cut me off with a sharp look.

No questions. No explanations. He knew what I needed.

When we reached his office, Mr. Godfrey pushed the door open without ceremony. The only light came from a dim desk lamp, casting long shadows over the room and over his face. Sniffling, I tried to wipe the tears and the snot, and somehow found myself... getting calmer. That was not how this usually worked? Usually, this would get my heart pounding even faster, but now? It felt like I was about to be relieved, like he was about to make it better. 

And he was the only one who could.

With a click of the door behind us, Mr. Godfrey looked down at me with an unreadable expression. I couldn't understand whether he was furious or getting over himself-- it was impossible to decode.

Then, his voice came quiet, almost calm; "I think ten would do,"

Ten? 

Oh.

"I don't know if that would be enough," I breathed. 

"Fifteen would only make you cry harder," he mumbled, clearly from experience. "That wouldn't help you."

"Twelve, then...?" 

"Twelve?"

Were we really having a civilized discussion about this...? About spanking?

"Three times four is twelve," I mumbled, sniffling. "You-- you like threes."

Mr. Godfrey stilled, his chest rising with soft, slow strokes. This was it-- we had made a deal, and he didn't have to say anything to know he was sold on it. Had I just done business with the most notorious businessman of the country? 

The way I was put over his lap was different this time; this felt like something sacred, like a routine we had practiced. Every other time had been consensual, but this... I had never wanted it more. I had never wanted him more.

As Mr. Godfrey's big hands reached for my skirt, I heard him sigh as he bunched it up around my waist. "Fucking hell," he mumbled, tracing the line of my underwear; the exact pair he had gifted me a while ago. "I knew these would suit you." 

There was nothing I could do to fight the shiver that ran up my back, and I let out a shaky breath. 

And he noticed the breath-- of course he did.

Mr. Godfrey's large palm flattened against the small of my back, warm, steady, possessive, while his other hand ghosted over the curve of my ass, fingers brushing the edge of the silk like it annoyed him. The heat of him seeped into my skin before the first strike even landed, but it didn't come right away.

No, he waited. Drew it out. Let the tension stretch until I could barely breathe.

And then--

Crack.

My body jolted, the pain ripping through me as I cried out, quiet and broken. "Fuck, ouch," I breathed. "One."

Mr. Godfrey hummed, dismissive; "You don't have to count," His fingers dragged over my sore skin, smoothing out the ache like it was his to mold. "Just try not to tense your legs. It's going to make it much worse."

That was odd-- why wouldn't he want me to have it worse? "But... it's supposed to hurt,"

"Yeah," he murmured. "But not to the point where you pass out."

Before I could say anything, his hand came down again, harder, firmer, to the point where my air left me with a shaky cry. God, it hurt, but I had missed this more than anything; the shock, the pain, the shame-- I loved it.

And then, when I thought it couldn't, it only got better.

"This is for your filthy mouth," Mr. Godfrey hissed, another smack falling before I could answer. "This is for your bratty little attitude tonight." Crack. "You really thought you could run your mouth without consequences? Not around me. Not ever."

My eyes burned as the heat bloomed beneath my skin, the sting deepening into something molten, something that settled in my core and made my thighs clench without permission.

Crack.

I gasped again, this one more strangled than the last.

"You even looked smug when you mouthed off," he hissed, bending low enough that I could feel his breath against the back of my neck. "Like you wanted this, you fucking brat. You did, huh?"

Another hit-- my body twitched in his grip. "Yes, sir," There was no use in lying, right?

I could almost hear Mr. Godfrey rolling his eyes. "That's what I thought," he muttered; his hand stroked the curve of my ass, then squeezed, like he was checking his work. "Bet you even missed this when I was gone. Bet this shit was on your mind when you sent me that drunk mail."

Crack.

Tears slipped from my eyes, not from the pain, but from the unbearable rightness of it all. He was punishing me like I belonged to him, like I mattered. Did I? 

Then, when I expected the next strike, it didn't come. Instead, Mr. Godfrey's hand moved further down, easing between my thighs, forcing them apart as I squirmed in his lap. Like this, I couldn't see anything, couldn't do anything, so when he dragged his thumb down my clothed, wet sex, I let out a shaky, quiet moan. What was happening?

"Do you get off on this, hm? Being put in your place?" 

I could only nod, looking back at him with glossy eyes. There was no hiding. There was no escaping. Where were we now? Six? Seven? I had lost count, even though I promised myself I wouldn't. 

Mr. Godfrey tsked, probably getting a kick out of the ruined sight of me. "This is not for you to get off," he huffed. "This is for you to snap out of whatever mess you've made in that tiny brain of yours. Why the fuck are you so wet, huh? Are you not ashamed? You should be." 

Then, with a flat hand, he smacked me between my legs-- Jesus Christ.

It was the oddest sensation. That force against my clit was both agony and pleasure unlike any other, and I let out a broken, loud cry of a moan that I instantly regretted, because suddenly? There came many more, small ones, firm, as my back arched up against Mr. Godfrey's hand, trying to meet the strikes for some reason I couldn't understand; this was the oddest, most pleasurable sensation, and I only knew that I wanted more. 

"Fuck, fuck-- fuck!--"

At that, Mr. Godfrey's hand moved and pressed into the curve of my lower back again, holding me in place like it was nothing. His strength felt effortless, like pinning down something wild; a reminder that he could hold me here forever if he wanted to. His voice stayed low, infuriatingly calm; "Look at you," he breathed, as if disgusted-- but there was nothing disgusted in the way he touched me. "What am I supposed to do with you, huh? Dirty girl."

My hips twitched, involuntarily seeking friction, something, anything, but he didn't give it. His thumb hovered again, threatening, teasing, denying, and then with the most feathery touch, traced a line down my underwear, stopping right before he reached my clit; for a second there, I even forgot to breathe. "Please," I whispered. 

"You act like a little monster," Mr. Godfrey continued, disregarding my pleas. "And then cry when you get treated like one."

"I'm not!--"

"You're not what?" he bit back. "Not needy? Not desperate?"

I clenched my jaw, tears clinging to my lashes, the shame glowing so hot in my chest I thought it might consume me. But still, I whispered, lying through my teeth; "I'm not crying,"

Mr. Godfrey chuckled-- a real one, low and cruel. "No," he murmured. "You're whimpering."

And then his hand slipped inside the waistband of my underwear; not hurried, not greedy, just steady. Intolerably slow. He dragged his fingers along my slickness, letting out the softest, sharpest breath when he felt how soaked I was. "Christ," he mumbled. "You're absolutely filthy."

Yes. 

Yes, I was. 

Mr. Godfrey held them there, two fingers barely pressing at my wet entrance, not moving. The tension knotted behind my ribs, unbearable. "Say it," he murmured.

I blinked, dazed; "Sir?"

"Say you missed me,"

My eyes widened just a bit, and my breath got stuck in my chest-- what? Why did he want to hear that? Why did he want me to say it? "I missed you," I confessed, shaky, not sure what to anticipate. 

"Are you lying?"

"N-- No, sir,"

Mr. Godfrey's digits moved, barely, with pressure at my hole that made my breath catch; would he put them in? Then, his fingers moved away, slow but deliberate, now dragging up to circle my clit once, twice-- before pulling away completely. "Stupid girl," he mumbled. "You shouldn't have."

My mouth parted in an airless gasp as he slid out of my underwear and came back with the flat of his hand, striking harder than before--

Crack.

"Eight," I gasped-- barely a whisper, barely a breath. The word slipped out before I could stop it, torn from the tight, trembling place in my chest. Everything burned. The ache had started as something low and dull, but now it bloomed sharp and alive, tracing every nerve along my spine and spilling down my thighs like fire.

Behind me, Mr. Godfrey let out a low breath-- half a sigh, half a laugh. The sound was cruel in its amusement, like he had expected this from me. "Still counting?" he murmured, voice velvet-smooth and full of mockery. "Didn't I tell you not to?"

I couldn't answer. My jaw was slack, my face already slick with tears, heat prickling under my skin-- I didn't know if I was shaking from the sting or from the shame that pulsed like a heartbeat in my chest. 

"I think you like the numbers too," Mr. Godfrey said next, almost to himself. His nails scraped a slow trail down the side of my thigh, making me jolt, making my stomach twist. "Makes it feel earned, doesn't it? Like you deserve it."

I whimpered, some fractured sound catching in my throat.

Another pause. Then;

Crack.

"Nine--"  The word burst from me on instinct, no thought behind it; just a raw, knee-jerk reaction.

He didn't let it go.

In one smooth, terrifying motion, Mr. Godfrey caught a fistful of my hair and pulled, yanking my head back just enough to make me gasp. My eyes flew open, vision swimming, breath catching. "I said," he hissed, low and cold in my ear; "Don't count."

"I'm sorry, sir," I whimpered, already unraveling. "I-- I keep losing track, I can't-- I need--"

His grip tightened again, sharp and absolute, every inch of him a warning; "Don't give a damn," he hissed.

Crack.

My whole body jolted, and a whisper of a ten left my lips. Shit. Shit.

This time, he didn't scold me. Maybe he hadn't heard me? But then, Mr. Godfrey pressed his hips forward, so I could feel the weight of him beneath me-- feel him growing beneath me. That was when it hit me that he was hard; thick, hard, and cruelly restrained. He wanted me to know. He wanted me to feel.

"Jesus," he muttered, now dragging the silk of my underwear down past my thighs; did he want to get a better look at the mark he was leaving? "Look at you... Wet like you're in heat. Ashamed yet?"

I was, but I wasn't. What the fuck was this feeling? I didn't even care that I was exposed anymore.

"It seems not," Mr. Godfrey hummed, dragging his fingers through the slickness between my legs, coating them, before trailing them down my thighs, humiliating me with every slow move. "Little brat's been dripping since strike three." 

I shivered; this was sticky. I was sticky. My legs were sticky. Was he? I whined, helpless, pathetic; "Please, sir, I feel-- ew, I feel--"

Crack.

My cry was loud this time, a real sob punching out of me-- finally, I had forgotten everything about the models. Peter. Mr. Godfrey's absence. The mess at the banquet. The lady from HR. The previous secretary. The emails. This was what I had been longing for-- this was the kind of numbness only Mr. Godfrey could give me, show me, teach me. This was why I needed him. That was why I needed this, us, whatever it was. 

As it all came crashing down on me, I felt the eternal knot in my chest unravel-- suddenly, I felt lighter than ever. Suddenly, I was ethereal. There was peace. Through my glistening tears hanging off my eyelids, I felt myself smile-- I slowly turned my head, looking up at Mr. Godfrey, showing him the release he had unleashed upon me. 

His green eyes, which were previously furious, had softened, but not noticeably. I could see it in the way his shoulders fell just the smallest movement, the way his face softened for just a beat too long, the way he let go of my hair-- he knew. He felt the euphoria too. 

This was the premise of everything.

This was why we needed each other. 

And then, to put me out of my misery, came the last crack of his palm against my skin-- I let my mouth fall open in a silent moan as I felt my body go limp with the relief. Euphoria, coursing through my veins. Euphoria, being pushed to this state. Euphoria. 

Mr. Godfrey exhaled behind me, pleased. "There she is,"

Then silence came, as a gift to us both. A heavy, glowing kind of silence that filled the room like warm light spilling across polished floors. No footsteps. No fumbling. No more commands.

Just him. Just me.

I heard him breathe again-- slower this time, calmer. Mr. Godfrey then reached for me with unexpected care, curling his arms around my torso, guiding me up and pulling me gently into his lap, settling me sideways so my legs draped across his. I didn't even think of the oddity of his softness-- my brain had melted into the best form of delirium as I let my head fall against his chest like it belonged there, right beneath his collarbone, where I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

I wasn't trembling anymore; I had found peace.

One of Mr. Godfrey's hands rubbed slow, careful circles up and down my back, his touch soothing now. The other cradled my thigh, his thumb absently brushing over my sticky skin-- no intention, no edge, just grounding presence.

"You did well," he murmured after a while, barely loud enough to hear. His voice wasn't sharp anymore; it was low, warm, and close. "Took everything I gave you, didn't you?"

I nodded faintly into Mr. Godfrey's broad chest, a wet exhale slipping from my lips. My hand came up to loosely clutch his shirt, something I would've never dared to before-- I didn't know if it was for balance or need. Maybe both? 

"Good girl," He pressed his lips to my temple-- not a kiss, really, just a press. His mouth was warm. "I've got you." Mr. Godfrey tilted his head down to rest against mine for a moment, our foreheads nearly touching. "I shouldn't have stayed away that long," he said. "Look what it did to you."

Look what it did to us.

... He didn't say that part, though. He didn't need to.

My body felt heavy in his lap, but not in a bad way; in a way that said I could stay here forever. "I needed this," I admitted, quiet as ever, soft and uncomplicated. "I needed you."

Mr. Godfrey's jaw moved like he was biting something back-- we didn't have to talk about the rest of it. Not yet. I didn't push. I got it. I finally understood. "Shh," he murmured again. "I know. I know." His hand kept tracing circles into my back; "Do you feel any better?"

"Yeah," If only he knew. "I just-- I'm just a little sticky, though." I tried pulling my thighs apart, but with every move, I felt the slick Mr. Godfrey had smeared all over them. If I really focused, I could still feel the arousal pulsing through me, the build-up that hadn't gone anywhere. Squirming, mildly uncomfortable, I let out a shaky breath against him, unsure whether to mention it or not. Maybe not. I could go one night without it. I could get off when I got home, right? 

It just... wouldn't be the same.

But that was when I realized Mr. Godfrey wasn't done with me, anyway.

He felt the shift in me instantly-- the restless little squirm, the way my thighs tried to edge apart just slightly, only to stick uncomfortably. The breath I let out was thin, almost whiny, as he reached down to help me spread my sticky thighs. "That's good," he murmured. "That's gonna help."

"Help?" I echoed, voice frail. "Sir, I don't-- I don't follow?--"

I didn't need to.

Mr. Godfrey's hand slowly went between my legs, his long, thick digits reaching the warmth of my slit, listening to the quiet whimper that left me. "Don't think," he murmured, slicking his fingers on my wetness, dragging and catching over my clit; "Let's just finish this up, hm?"

I was jelly in his arms, letting out a shaky moan as I sank into the feeling. I couldn't believe Mr. Godfrey was taking care of me, couldn't believe this was happening. Usually, he wouldn't touch me like this, wouldn't be so physical, but here we were.

"You really thought I was gonna let you walk out like this?" Mr. Godfrey said, brushing slow, lazy circles over my clit, each pass firmer than the last. "Can't let you leave the office in this state. How would that make me look, hm? I have a reputation to uphold."

I whimpered, my hips twitching against his palm.

"Mm... Thought so," he murmured. "You've been holding onto this for days, haven't you?"

My head fell back against his shoulder, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut; he had no idea. He had no fucking idea. If he ever left me for Switzerland again, I'd kill him with my bare hands-- it had been unbearable.

"You're lucky I'm feeling generous," he added, rubbing me in steady, expert strokes that had me unraveling by the second. "You're lucky I maybe missed you, too. There were no cute secretaries running around in Switzerland, y'know? You made my day with that fucking email."

My breath hitched, and I let out another quiet whimper, trying to keep my eyes open even though they were glazing over. "I thought you--" I moaned softly as his circles turned firmer, nearly derailing my words entirely. "I thought you were angry."

Mr. Godfrey chuckled quietly, the sound rich and warm in his chest, vibrating softly where I rested against him. "Oh, I was furious," he said, almost affectionate in his mockery. "But only because I couldn't do anything about it. Sitting in a boring meeting, trying not to picture you going nuts here, getting off behind my desk... Do you know how fucking hard it is to negotiate with a tent in your slacks?" Then, unexpectedly, he slid his fingers lower, easing one inside me. "But I knew I'd make you pay for it eventually."

I gasped against him, burying my face in Mr. Godfrey's chest; I never expected him to be inside of me in any way at all. Suddenly, it was also dawning on me that he was letting me cling to him, letting me writhe against him-- what was happening? "Sir," I breathed. "I'm so-- so sorry."

Mr. Godfrey made a quiet, amused sound at the back of his throat, finger curling slowly inside me, deep and deliberate. "No, you're not," he murmured, teasing rather than accusing. "But that's alright, for now. I didn't ask you to be."

I whimpered softly, clutching tighter at his shirt as his thumb brushed over my swollen clit again. My hips pressed forward without permission, desperate to feel more of him, to chase that unbearable friction he was creating, and--

"Easy," Mr. Godfrey murmured, his voice softer, almost soothing. "Don't rush this. I've waited a week for this."

I shuddered at his words, my breathing ragged against his chest. "I just--"

"You just what?" he asked, tilting his head down to whisper directly into my ear, his voice velvety with quiet authority. "You just wanted to torment me from a continent away? Wanted me thinking about you every goddamn second of every meeting?"

My breath hitched on another moan as he slid a second finger inside, stretching me carefully, gently. "I just wanted you to-- to miss me too,"

Mr. Godfrey's lips brushed my temple again, his voice softer than before. "That's cute," he murmured. "That makes me a little less mad."

He tightened his grip around my waist, pulling me closer against his chest as his fingers moved inside me, working carefully, insistently, as if he had memorized every response my body had ever given him and he was using it against me. "Shh, there you go..." he cooed, warm breath tickling my ear as his fingers fucked deeper into me. "Be good for me, just like that... You did so well tonight. I'll let this slide, just this once."

I couldn't believe this was happening, I really couldn't. Exhausted, I clung to Mr. Godfrey, helpless, burying my face deeper into the warmth of his chest as the incoming release finally started to unravel me. It was different this time; gentle, quiet, almost sweet, and somehow infinitely more devastating. The sound of his thick fingers pushing into me over and over was obscene, but I didn't care-- with my heart beating like never before, I even dared to look down at the scene, my breath catching in my throat. His fingers were so wet, the circles he rubbed into my clit were more intense to watch, and just the sheer size of his hands compared to my body was enough to make me shudder.

Mr. Godfrey caught up; "Pretty, huh?" he purred. 

I nodded against him, eyes wide as I watched his soaked fingers working me open-- deliberate, practiced, and cruel. "Yes, sir," I whispered, too aroused to be embarrassed. "It's... it's so--"

"So what?" His voice was a low hum at the crown of my head, his breath warm, his fingers not stopping. "Say it."

I swallowed hard, my legs twitching. "So good," I whimpered.

"Damn right it is," he murmured, mouth brushing over my temple again. "You think I'd give this to just anyone?"

My stomach flipped, my walls fluttering around him involuntarily, and he caught it instantly.

"Oh, you like that," he purred. "You like knowing you're the only one who gets this, hm? The only one I'd let fall apart like this in my lap?"

Wait... what?

What about the models? Hadn't he fucked the models? My brain was melting, falling apart; had he not done anything with them? Were the photos only that, just a show? Our little game? I couldn't answer. There were no words left-- just the sound of Mr. Godfrey working me over. "That's it," he murmured again, voice all praise now, nearly reverent. "I've got you."

Mr. Godfrey's fingers quickened just a hair, curling with each thrust, and his thumb never lost pace, circling tight and fast until I was keening into his chest, eyes clenched, body on fire-- I never wanted this to end. 

"That's it," he whispered again, breath catching. "Such a good secretary, hm?"

That did it-- I was. 

I was.

I was.

My whole body shattered in his arms, trembling, weightless, wrung out. I clutched onto Mr. Godfrey, my boss, my dom, pressing my forehead to the hollow of his throat as I came, letting it wreck me in waves that didn't stop until I was soft and boneless in his lap, barely able to breathe. That was worth the wait of this week. That was worth the chaos. That was worth the longing, the tears, and the pain.

Mr. Godfrey held me-- still, he didn't say a word for a long, long time.

His fingers slowly eased out of me, and then what remained was just the sound of our breath, rising and falling, like we had climbed the same mountain and were only now realizing the air was thinner up here; stupid, stupid risk-takers.

Finally, I opened my eyes-- his were already on me, green and clear.

... Something had changed.

I knew it with how still he had gone, in the way his gaze lingered, like he was trying to see past my skin, like he realized something he wasn't ready to admit.

Mr. Godfrey exhaled slowly through his nose. "Fuck," he muttered, almost too quiet for me to hear. His arms hadn't loosened at all, but he suddenly looked like he was trying to get a grip on himself. "You really don't make this easy."

My chest tightened, unsure what he meant-- what that look meant. "I don't?" I whispered, voice still ruined.

Mr. Godfrey shook his head slightly, like he didn't trust himself to say more. Then, finally, gently, he pressed his lips to my hair.

Just once.

Just long enough to make my heart stop.

"I know who I'm calling into the office tomorrow," he mumbled;

"A fucking exorcist."

(a/n: oh Mr. Godfrey...... playing with fire, playing with secretaries, what's next?? EEK THIS WAS SO FUN, may they both now be confused as hell!! THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE!!<333)

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[monukumarefr]

Top 5 Strategies to Handle Contract Breaches in India without Losing Time or Mone | Breach of Contract in India | Contract Dispute Resolution in India

Any business collaboration needs an agreement, while it is common in every industry and country, it is vital for any foreign company operating in India. Unfortunately, there are possibilities of contract violations, which always cause disruptions and unnecessary financial burden on commercial partnerships. These violations are often but not limited to, nonpayment, delivery challenges, and failure to meet agreed-upon terms; early and cost-effective handling of these is critical in ensuring that organizations continue to operate.

[reasonsforhope]

"Tuesday’s [April 9, 2024] definition-shifting court ruling means nearly 50 governments must now contend with a new era of climate litigation.

Governments be warned: You must protect your citizens from climate change — it’s their human right.

The prescient message was laced throughout a dense ruling Tuesday from Europe’s top human rights court. The court’s conclusion? Humans have a right to safety from climate catastrophes that is rooted in their right to life, privacy and family.

The definition-shifting decision from the European Court of Human Rights means nearly 50 governments representing almost 700 million people will now have to contend with a new era of litigation from climate-stricken communities alleging inaction. 

While the judgment itself doesn’t include any penalties — the case featured several women accusing Switzerland of failing to shield them from climate dangers — it does establish a potent precedent that people can use to sue governments in national courts.

The verdict will serve “as a blueprint for how to successfully sue your own government over climate failures,” said Ruth Delbaere, a legal specialist at Avaaz, a U.S.-based nonprofit that promotes climate activism...

Courting the courts on climate

The European Court of Human Rights was established in the decade following World War II but has grown in importance over the last generation. As the judicial arm of the Council of Europe, an international human rights organization, the court’s rulings are binding on the council’s 46 members, spanning all of Europe and numerous countries on its borders.

As a result, Tuesday’s [April 9, 2024] ruling will help elevate climate litigation from a country-by-country battle to one that stretches across continents.

Previously, climate activists had mostly found success in suing individual countries to force climate action. 

A 2019 Dutch Supreme Court verdict forced the Netherlands to slash its greenhouse gas emissions by 25 percent, while in 2021 a French court ruled the government was responsible for environmental damage after it failed to meet greenhouse gas reduction goals. That same year, Germany’s Constitutional Court issued a sweeping judgment that the country’s 2019 climate law was partly “unconstitutional” because it put too much of the emissions-cutting burden on future generations.

Even in the U.S., young environmental activists won a local case last year against state agencies after arguing that the continued use of fossil fuels violated their right to a "clean and healthful environment."

But 2024 is shaping up to be a turning point for climate litigation, redefining who has a right to sue over climate issues, what arguments they can use, and whom they can target. 

To start, experts overwhelmingly expect that Tuesday’s ruling will reverberate across future lawsuits — both in Europe and globally. The judgment even includes specifics about what steps governments must take to comply with their new climate-related human rights obligations. The list includes things like a concrete deadline to reach climate neutrality, a pathway to getting there, and evidence the country is actually on that path...

Concretely, the verdict could also affect the outcomes of six other high-profile climate lawsuits pending before the human rights court, including a Greenpeace-backed suit questioning whether Norway's decision to grant new oil and gas licenses complies with its carbon-cutting strategy.

An emerging legal strategy

In the coming months, other international bodies are also expected to issue their own rulings on the same thorny legal issues, which could further solidify the evolving trend. 

The International Court of Justice, the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea and the Inter-American Court of Human Rights all have similar cases working through the system.

"All these cases together will clarify the legal obligations of states to protect rights in the context of climate change — and will set the stage for decades to come," said Chowdhury, from the environmental law center."

-via Politico, April 9, 2024