Chapter 13 — : The Counterpunch Arrives in a Suit
Sunset Network didn't "respond."
Sunset Network counterpunched—with a smile, a press leak, and a lawyer pretending it was all just business.
By 9:12 AM, Donna was standing at Hayden's desk with her phone in one hand and a printed email in the other, wearing the exact expression she saved for two things:
1. betrayal
2. stupidity in expensive packaging
"Bad news," she said.
Hayden didn't look up from his screen. "Define bad."
Donna slapped the printout down. "They withdrew the Bar complaint."
Hayden paused. "That's… good."
Donna's smile sharpened. "They withdrew it publicly."
Hayden's eyes narrowed. "Meaning?"
Donna pointed at the second page.
A copy of a gossip site update—faster than it had any right to be:
"SUNSET BACKS DOWN ON ETHICS COMPLAINT — SOURCES SAY 'MISUNDERSTANDING'"
"…INSIDERS CLAIM PEARSON HARDMAN WEST USED THREATS…"
Hayden stared at it for a beat too long.
Then he exhaled once. Controlled.
"They're laundering the smear," he said.
Donna nodded. "Bingo. They're trying to look gracious and make us look aggressive."
Hayden's tone stayed calm. "And the court?"
Donna's smile returned—brighter. "The court doesn't read gossip. The court reads filings. Which is why I love judges. They're allergic to vibes."
Maya slid in from the side with her laptop, eyes focused. "We just got a notice."
Hayden looked up. "What kind of notice."
Maya turned the screen.
NOTICE OF PRODUCTION — SOURCE FILE + LIMITED METADATA
WITNESS: LENA PARK — REQUEST TO RESCHEDULE DEPOSITION
Hayden's eyes sharpened. "They produced the source?"
Maya nodded. "They claim it's the source. Limited metadata. And they're trying to push the deposition date."
Donna leaned in, delighted in the worst way. "Translation: they're scared she'll talk."
Hayden nodded once. "Or scared she'll talk truthfully."
Maya frowned. "How do we verify the file's actually original?"
Hayden didn't hesitate. "We don't verify it ourselves. We let a neutral forensic examiner verify it. Which we already demanded."
Donna pointed at him like a proud mom watching her kid threaten someone with professionalism. "Controlled chaos. I love it."
Hayden stood. "Jessica needs this now."
Donna was already walking. "She's in her office. And Harvey is there."
Hayden sighed. "Of course."
Donna grinned. "Harvey heard 'studio' and 'celebrity' and his ego sprinted."
---
Jessica's office felt like a command center.
Jessica at the desk. Maya to the side. Donna hovering like a friendly threat. Harvey leaned against the wall like he was paid per smirk.
Jessica took the notice and scanned it once.
Then again.
Then she looked up at Hayden.
"They're trying to reschedule Lena Park," Jessica said.
Hayden nodded. "Which means she's the weak link."
Harvey's grin widened. "Or she's about to be 'out of town' again."
Donna smiled sweetly. "Or she'll wake up tomorrow and mysteriously 'forget' her own name."
Jessica didn't laugh. She didn't need to. Her eyes were sharper than humor.
"Harper," Jessica said, "what do we do?"
Hayden's voice stayed even. "We oppose the reschedule. We remind the judge this is expedited authenticity discovery. Ten days. Strict scope. No coaching window."
Jessica nodded once. "Good."
Maya added, "And we send the file to the forensic examiner immediately."
Hayden nodded. "Today. And we request the full header chain on the email delivery of the file too."
Donna pointed. "Already on it. IT is purring like a cat."
Harvey pushed off the wall. "They withdrew the Bar complaint. That's them trying to look reasonable."
Hayden's expression stayed calm. "It's them trying to erase the fingerprints."
Jessica looked at him. "Can they?"
Hayden answered honestly. "Not if we keep the record intact. We already notified the Bar it was being used as leverage."
Jessica's gaze held steady. "Good."
Donna's phone buzzed again. She checked it, then lifted her eyes.
"Update," Donna said.
Jessica didn't blink. "Donna."
Donna grinned. "Melissa's publicist called. Melissa saw the 'Pearson threatened us' angle."
Harvey scoffed. "Let me guess. She wants to go nuclear."
Donna nodded. "She wants to go thermonuclear."
Jessica looked at Hayden. "Handle it."
Hayden didn't hesitate. "Put her through."
Donna tapped once and handed Hayden her phone like she was passing him a live grenade.
Melissa's voice hit speaker instantly—tight, controlled, furious.
"They're calling you bullies," she said. "They're calling me unstable. And now they're acting like they 'graciously' withdrew the complaint like they're saints."
Hayden kept his voice calm. "They withdrew because they couldn't sustain it."
Melissa exhaled sharply. "So why does it still feel like they're winning?"
Hayden answered straight. "Because you're measuring the fight in headlines."
A beat.
Then, quieter: "Okay," Melissa said. "Fair."
Hayden continued, steady. "The fight we care about is the judge's calendar. They tried to buy time. They failed. Now they're trying to create cover for why they failed. That's noise."
Melissa's tone sharpened. "And the deposition?"
Hayden's eyes flicked to Jessica—she gave a small nod.
"They're trying to move it," Hayden said. "We're opposing it. And a neutral examiner is reviewing the file."
Melissa went quiet for a second.
Then: "If she lies under oath…"
Hayden didn't soften. "Then we catch it. Calmly. Cleanly. On the record."
Melissa's breath steadied—focus returning.
"Good," she said. "Because I want this to be real consequences. Not PR consequences."
Hayden nodded once even though she couldn't see it. "Then stay quiet publicly and loud in the courtroom."
Melissa let out a slow breath. "Okay."
Then her voice dropped a notch—less anger, more something personal and rare.
"And Harper?"
"Yes."
"Thank you," she said. "For not letting me ruin my own case."
Hayden didn't flirt. Didn't joke. Didn't turn it into a moment.
"That's the job," he said.
The call ended.
Donna took her phone back, smiling like she'd just watched someone defuse a bomb with tweezers.
Jessica looked at Hayden for a beat.
"She trusts you," Jessica said.
Hayden corrected automatically. "She trusts the process."
Jessica's mouth twitched. "Same thing—when it matters."
Harvey smirked. "Okay, I officially like you, Harper."
Hayden deadpanned. "That's unfortunate."
Donna snorted.
---
Back in the bullpen, Hayden returned to his desk with one goal:
finish the opposition to the deposition delay.
He'd just opened the draft when Donna slid into the seat across from him—too casual, too quick.
"Okay," Donna said, lowering her voice, "new weather."
Hayden didn't look up. "Louis?"
Donna nodded. "Louis."
Hayden exhaled once. "Of course."
Donna leaned in. "He requested Mike's hiring file again. HR told him no. So he asked me."
Hayden's fingers stilled.
"That's not normal," he said.
Donna's smile went thin. "Nothing about Louis is normal. But this is… focused."
Hayden kept his voice neutral. "Why now?"
Donna shrugged. "Because he's Louis. And because he hates mysteries he didn't create."
Hayden stared at his screen, but his mind wasn't on Sunset anymore.
It was on patterns.
Louis sniffing hiring files.
Mike being too good, too fast, too clean.
Harvey protecting him like an investment.
Jessica bringing Hayden in early, like she'd wanted another genius in the building—one with credentials nobody could question.
Donna watched Hayden's face closely. "Don't."
Hayden blinked once. "Don't what."
Donna's voice was quiet. "Don't go near that unless you have to. That mess doesn't splash. It floods."
Hayden nodded once. "I'm not touching it."
Donna held his gaze. "Promise."
Hayden's eyes stayed steady. "Promise."
Donna exhaled, satisfied, and stood.
"Good," she said. "Now go win your very public studio war."
She started to walk away, then paused and added casually—too casually:
"Oh, and Harvey just scheduled a strategy meeting with you… and Mike."
Hayden looked up. "Why."
Donna smiled like the universe had jokes and she was in on them.
"Because Harvey loves triangles," she said. "And because Mike asked about you."
Hayden's expression didn't change, but his focus tightened.
"What did he ask."
Donna's grin sharpened. "He asked whether you 'always talk like a judge is watching.'"
Hayden's mouth twitched. "Smart question."
Donna pointed at him. "Be careful. Mike is charming in that 'I'm hiding something' way."
Hayden didn't respond.
Because the truth was, he could already feel it:
Sunset was fighting dirty out loud.
But whatever was happening with Mike?
That was going to be dirty quiet.
And quiet dirt was the kind that stuck.
Hayden returned to his draft, hands moving again, calm as stone.
Because first: the deposition.
Then: the forensic report.
Then: consequences.
And after that…
He'd deal with the thing inside the firm that smelled like a secret.
By 2:38 PM, Hayden had filed three things that mattered more than any headline:
1. Opposition to postponing Lena Park's deposition
2. A request to compel full chain-of-custody production
3. A notice confirming neutral forensic examination
Paper. Clean. Boring. Deadly.
The kind of work that didn't trend—but won.
He was reading the confirmation receipt when Donna appeared at the edge of his desk, one finger lifted like she was about to deliver a commandment.
"Conference Room C," she said.
Hayden blinked once. "Why C?"
Donna smiled brightly. "Because A is cursed and B smells like Louis."
Hayden stood. "Harvey's meeting?"
Donna nodded. "Harvey, you, and Mike. And Jessica said 'fine' in that tone that means she already hates the idea but loves the outcome."
Hayden walked with her, steady pace, suit smooth, brain already indexing risk.
He didn't fear Mike Ross.
He feared variables.
And Mike Ross—whatever he was—had the aura of a variable pretending to be a constant.
---
Conference Room C was smaller, quieter, and more honest. No "big deal" room energy. Just clean glass, clean chairs, and the kind of silence where people said what they meant.
Harvey Specter was already inside, leaning back with his hands folded behind his head like the world existed for his convenience.
Mike Ross sat to Harvey's right, relaxed but alert. The kind of relaxed that took effort. The kind of relaxed that said, I've been in rooms like this before and I survived by being sharp.
Mike's eyes flicked up as Hayden entered—held him for half a second longer than "polite," then dropped away.
Harvey grinned. "Harper."
Hayden nodded once. "Specter."
Harvey gestured at the chair across from them. "Sit."
Hayden sat.
Mike offered a small nod. "Hayden."
"Mike."
Harvey's grin widened like he'd just successfully placed two magnets near each other and was waiting for sparks.
"So," Harvey said, "let's talk about Sunset."
Hayden didn't waste time. "They're trying to delay Lena Park because she's either unprepared to lie or too prepared to lie. Either way, postponement benefits them, not the court."
Mike leaned forward slightly. "And the judge already gave strict expedited scope."
Hayden glanced at him once—quick assessment. "Yes. Ten days."
Harvey pointed with a pen. "And your angle is…?"
Hayden answered evenly. "We frame it as preservation of truth. If they're confident, they comply. If they're stalling, they're hiding."
Mike's mouth twitched. "Judges love that."
Harvey nodded approvingly. "They do."
Then Harvey leaned forward, eyes sharp.
"And the off-site meeting," Harvey said, casually.
Hayden didn't blink. "Public. Daytime. Fifteen minutes. Documented. No repeat."
Mike watched Hayden carefully at that. Like he was mapping the edges of Hayden's self-control.
Harvey nodded. "Good."
Mike's voice was neutral, but curious. "Why fifteen minutes?"
Hayden met his eyes. "Because long meetings create long stories."
Mike held his gaze, then nodded slowly. "Smart."
Harvey smirked. "See? You two can be friends."
Hayden deadpanned. "Harvey, if you try to build a friendship like it's a merger, it won't take."
Harvey's grin widened. "I love when you talk back."
Mike looked between them, amused despite himself.
"So," Mike said, "what's the plan if the forensic examiner finds irregularities?"
Hayden didn't assume, but he planned like it was inevitable.
"We don't yell 'forgery,'" Hayden said. "We ask the judge for a controlled forensic order. We lock the evidence. We subpoena the creation trail. Then we let opposing counsel explain why their 'executed' amendment has fingerprints that don't match."
Mike nodded, appreciative. "Quiet kill."
Hayden corrected softly. "Quiet win."
Harvey snorted. "Same thing."
Hayden's phone buzzed in his pocket.
He didn't look.
Donna's rule: don't break eye contact when men are measuring you.
Harvey leaned back again. "Now here's the real question: if the forensic report comes back clean—what then?"
Mike's eyes sharpened too.
Good question. The kind that separated lawyers from gamblers.
Hayden answered calmly. "Then we shift to interpretation and abuse of discretion. Even a valid amendment doesn't justify unreasonable scheduling or retaliatory behavior. We make their enforcement look abusive."
Mike nodded once. "And then settlement gets cheaper."
Hayden looked at Mike directly. "Exactly."
Harvey's grin flickered—approval. "Okay. You're both annoyingly competent."
Mike smirked. "That's why we're here."
Harvey pointed at Mike. "That's why you're here. He—" he pointed at Hayden "—is here because Jessica likes having weapons nobody can discredit."
Hayden didn't react.
Mike did—barely.
His eyes flicked away for a fraction too quick.
That tiny movement landed in Hayden's mind like a bookmark.
Harvey stood. "Alright. I'm done with Sunset for the moment. You two keep the paper sharp."
He started toward the door, then paused with a grin that meant trouble.
"And Harper?"
"Yes."
Harvey's voice turned casual. "You're going to help Mike on a case this week."
Hayden blinked once. "Why."
Harvey smirked. "Because you're good. And because Mike needs someone who thinks in fallout."
Mike's jaw tightened—subtle.
Harvey noticed and smiled wider, like he'd just pressed a bruise to see if it hurt.
"Relax," Harvey said to Mike. "It's not a trust exercise."
Hayden didn't miss how Mike didn't respond immediately.
Then Mike nodded. "Sure."
Harvey left.
The door clicked shut.
Now it was just the two of them in a quiet room with too much glass.
Mike leaned back, exhaling like he'd been holding air while Harvey was in the room.
Hayden didn't fill the silence with noise.
He waited.
Mike finally spoke first.
"You always talk like a judge is watching," Mike said.
Hayden's mouth twitched. "Because one usually is."
Mike's eyes narrowed slightly. "Even when you're not in court."
Hayden didn't dodge. "Because records aren't just for court."
Mike studied him, and for the first time, Hayden saw the real Mike Ross underneath the charm and speed.
A man who was constantly doing mental math on risk.
"You're new here," Mike said.
"Yes."
"And you're already… aligned with Jessica."
Hayden kept it simple. "She hired me. I work."
Mike's mouth twitched. "That's not what I mean."
Hayden met his eyes. Calm. Patient.
"I'm aligned with outcomes," Hayden said. "Not people."
Mike stared at him, then nodded slowly like he respected the answer even if it made him uncomfortable.
"Fair," Mike said.
A beat.
Then Mike asked, lightly—but not too lightly:
"Why did you really go to that interview with Harvey?"
Hayden didn't flinch. "To see if I wanted the job."
Mike's gaze held steady. "And when you didn't get it?"
Hayden's tone stayed even. "I got a different offer."
Mike nodded, but his eyes stayed sharp.
"You ever wonder why Harvey picked me?" Mike asked.
Hayden didn't answer immediately.
Because the honest truth was: yes. He'd wondered.
Not out of jealousy.
Out of logic.
Harvey Specter didn't pick "good." Harvey picked useful. Harvey picked rare.
"Harvey picks what he can shape," Hayden said finally. "Or what he thinks he can."
Mike's mouth twitched. "You think he can shape me?"
Hayden met his eyes. "I think he thinks he can."
Mike smiled faintly—something like respect, something like warning.
"Good," Mike said. "Because he can't."
Hayden didn't argue.
He just let that sentence sit there.
Because men who said that loudly were either telling the truth…
…or begging the universe to prove them wrong.
---
Back in the bullpen, Donna was waiting for Hayden like she had radar.
"You survived," she said.
Hayden sat. "Barely."
Donna leaned in, voice low. "How was it?"
Hayden didn't play coy. "Mike is smart."
Donna nodded like that was obvious. "Yes."
"And careful."
Donna's smile thinned. "Yes."
"And hiding something."
Donna didn't blink. "Yes."
Hayden stared at her. "You already know."
Donna's grin returned. "I know lots of things."
Hayden's eyes narrowed. "Is it my problem?"
Donna's voice softened a fraction. "Not unless someone makes it your problem."
Hayden nodded once. "Louis."
Donna sighed. "Louis."
As if summoned by the mention of his name, Louis Litt emerged from his office like a man who smelled opportunity.
He wasn't smiling now.
He was focused.
Louis walked straight toward the reception area where Donna's desk sat like the throne of the firm.
"Donna," Louis said, a little too formally.
Donna didn't look up. "Louis."
Louis lowered his voice, but not enough. "I need access to the new hire verification packet. HR is being… difficult."
Donna's smile stayed bright. "That's because HR is smart."
Louis's jaw tightened. "Donna."
Donna finally looked up, still smiling. "Louis."
He leaned in closer, eyes sharp. "This is firm business."
Donna's smile sharpened. "So is not abusing administrative processes for personal curiosity."
Louis's face hardened. "You don't know what you're talking about."
Donna's eyes went cool. "Oh, Louis. I always know what I'm talking about. You just don't like it."
Louis straightened, then glanced past Donna—his gaze flicking to Hayden for a fraction of a second.
Like he was filing him under: problem.
Then Louis turned and walked away without another word.
Donna watched him go and muttered, "He's going to do something stupid."
Hayden's voice stayed even. "He already is."
---
At 6:11 PM, a notification hit Maya's inbox.
She stood from her desk and walked over to Hayden, face tight.
"It's in," she said.
Hayden's focus snapped. "The forensic preliminary?"
Maya nodded.
Donna appeared behind her like she'd been teleported by drama.
"Please say it's juicy," Donna whispered.
Maya handed Hayden the printed page. One page. Preliminary notes. No conclusions yet.
Hayden read it once.
Then again.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly—because the words were careful, but the meaning was loud.
> Preliminary Observations:
File metadata shows indications of post-signature modification inconsistent with typical executed PDF workflow.
Embedded signature layer appears imported, not captured through standard e-sign platform logging.
Full determination pending access to original creation environment or platform audit logs.
Donna's smile turned dangerous. "Oh."
Maya's voice was quiet. "That's not a clean doc."
Hayden didn't celebrate.
He didn't grin.
He didn't let the thrill rise.
He just said the truth.
"That's a problem for them," Hayden said calmly. "Not for us."
Donna leaned in, gleeful. "So what do we do?"
Hayden looked at Maya. "We move before they can explain it away."
Maya nodded. "Motion to compel full audit logs and immediate deposition."
Hayden nodded once. "And we notify the judge of the preliminary red flags without claiming conclusions."
Donna grinned. "Controlled burn."
Hayden corrected. "Controlled proof."
Donna sighed dramatically. "You're so boring when you're right."
Hayden's phone buzzed again.
This time he checked it.
Unknown number.
A single text.
LENA PARK: I can't do this. They told me what to say.
Hayden's expression didn't change—but his eyes went colder.
Donna saw the shift instantly. "What."
Hayden held the phone up so they could read it.
Maya's eyes widened. "That's… huge."
Donna's grin vanished into something sharp and serious. "That's a witness reaching out directly."
Hayden's voice stayed even. "And it's risk."
Maya nodded quickly. "We can't engage substantively."
Donna was already moving. "Jessica. Now."
Hayden stood.
Because now they had what Sunset feared most:
A document that looked wrong…
…and a witness who sounded scared.
That wasn't just a case anymore.
That was a collapse waiting to happen.