While Jamal and Mike were busy figuring out their life choices over coffee, Maluck was handling business. He sat across from Theo, who was already pulling out his tablet, looking way too eager for what was about to come.
Maluck smiled as Theo approached. “You know, I’m always glad to see you, but you don’t always have to be so excited.”
Theo grinned. “Hey, I’m just happy to be working for a boss who isn’t a complete lunatic or a raging narcissist. You have no idea how rare that is.”
Maluck raised an eyebrow. “I feel like that says more about your past jobs than me.”
Theo shrugged. “Probably. But if you think I’m odd, you should meet my brothers—Alvin and Simon.”
Maluck paused, then narrowed his eyes. “You’re joking.”
Theo gave him a completely straight face.
“…You’re not joking?”
Theo just sipped his drink, letting the silence stretch.
“So,” Maluck said, leaning back. “I need you to sort out everything for Jamal and Mike. And I mean everything—alimony, debts, outstanding legal issues, and for Mike… well, let’s just say I’d like to see him actually get his damn law degree.”
Theo’s fingers were already flying across the screen. “Alright. Let’s break it down.”
He scrolled for a second. “Jamal’s got—three kids with two different women.”
Maluck sighed. “Yeah, he’s a smooth operator, who seems to hate condoms.”
Theo continued. I’ve already started some research based on their files. One of them is actually super reasonable—she just wants the payments on time, and she’s not trying to bleed him dry. The other one? Absolute nightmare. She hits him with late fees like she’s running a payday loan business. If we settle everything in one go, it’ll stop him from getting garnished every paycheck.”
“Good,” Maluck nodded. “Do it.”
Theo raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Just ‘do it’?”
“Yeah. What, you need me to sign a permission slip?”
Theo frowned. “I mean, usually, rich people love their fancy loopholes. Tax shelters, offshores, maybe some weird trust fund nonsense—”
“That’s Soi’s job. You’ll be coordinating with him on this. I don’t have to tell you that, right?”
Theo nodded. “Got it.”
“Alright, what about Mike?” Maluck asked.
Theo sighed. “Oh boy. Where do I even start?” He scrolled again. “So, Mike never actually finished law school. He dropped out when his girlfriend got pregnant, but he kept studying on his own and started, uh… let’s call it freelance legal consulting.”
Maluck smirked. “You mean taking the bar exam for rich idiots.”
“Yeah,” Theo said. “Which, by the way, is very illegal. Fraud, misrepresentation, identity theft—you name it. If anyone ever catches him, he’s looking at serious charges.”
Maluck nodded. “So, first step—get him out of that life. Second step—get him an actual law degree.”
“Easier said than done,” Theo muttered. “Getting him back into school is one thing, but the bar exam? He still needs to do articling, and that means he needs a firm willing to take him in.”
“Figure it out,” Maluck said. “Pay off whoever needs paying. Grease whatever wheels need greasing. If the legal world is already corrupt, we might as well use that to our advantage.”
Theo sighed but kept typing. “You know, this is actually a lot of work.”
Maluck waved a hand. “Theo, you’ve been working for me for a while now, and let’s be real—you haven’t exactly been overloaded with work.”
Theo looked extremely guilty. “…I mean, I did organize your socks that one time.”
Maluck rolled his eyes. “Exactly. You’ve been enjoying your pay, your new car, and doing, like, five tasks total. Consider this your first real assignment. Get it done.”
***
Theo sat in front of his laptop, rubbing his temples as he stared at the absurd list of tasks Maluck had dumped on him. It read like a rich guy’s fever dream of problems:
?Fix Jamal’s child support drama
?Get Mike a law degree
?Make sure neither of them go to jail
?Convince Soi to actually let him spend money without a lecture
Theo exhaled. “Alright,” he muttered to himself. “Step one: call Soi and let him know I’m about to make some extremely questionable financial decisions.”
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He dialed. The phone barely rang once before Soi picked up, already suspicious.
“Theo.”
Theo forced a bright tone. “Heyyy, Soi! How’s the financial world treating you today?”
“What do you want?”
Theo sighed. “Soi, you know those two hires Maluck made?”
“Yeah,” Soi deadpanned. “I had so much fun doing their paperwork.”
“Well, one of them—Mike—needs a law degree.”
Soi paused. “…So, we’re making Mike a lawyer now?”
“Yep.”
Soi snorted. “And here I thought you were gonna tell me we were finally buying an island.”
Theo rubbed his temples. “Maybe later. Right now, I just need to fast-track a guy who can already pass the bar but doesn’t have the paper credentials to make it official.”
Soi leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Ah. You need one of those law firms.”
Theo nodded. “You got a guy?”
Soi chuckled. “Theo. I have several guys.” He scrolled through his laptop, then spun it around. “Here. Pick your poison.”
As a government auditor, Soi had plenty of experience dealing with these types of shady law firms—the ones that specialized in creative loopholes, questionable ethics, and just enough legal jargon to make outright fraud sound like a clerical misunderstanding.
This was, however, the first time he was on the same side as one of them.
Theo leaned in—and immediately regretted it. The screen was filled with law firms that sounded just legitimate enough to exist but were clearly up to no good.
?Henderson & Pratt, LLP – “Creative Solutions for Modern Legal Challenges” (Too vague. Definitely a scam.)
?Blackwood Consulting – “We Handle The Paperwork” (Way too ominous.)
?Graves & Associates – “Discretion Guaranteed” (This one just screams illegal.)
Theo sighed. “Okay. Which one of these isn’t going to screw us?”
Soi tapped the last one. “Graves. I’ve investigated them before. Out of the three, they’re the least shady—but only because they’re smart enough to cover their tracks. They’re discreet, efficient, and they actually get the job done. Also, they don’t ask too many questions.”
Theo gave him a look. “How many questions is too many?”
Soi shrugged. “You’ll know if you ask one.”
Theo exhaled. “Fine. Set up a meeting.”
Soi was already typing. “Done. You’re on for later today.”
Theo leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “Great. Now I just have to go convince a probably criminal lawyer that I need a slightly less criminal lawyer.”
Soi grinned. “Welcome to working for Lucky Star.”
***
Theo walked into Graves & Associates , one of the fine, upstanding law firms that Soi had pointed him toward. It had all the classic shady lawyer aesthetics—dark mahogany desks, antique law books for decoration, and a receptionist who had the thousand-yard stare of corporate survival. She looked like someone who had once dared to have hopes and dreams—only to see them systematically crushed beneath an avalanche of NDAs, legal disclaimers, and overpriced settlements.
Theo strolled up to the receptionist’s desk, flashing his most non-threatening, I’m-not-here-to-cause-legal-chaos smile. The woman behind the desk barely glanced up, her expression one of corporate exhaustion—the kind that suggested she’d seen everything from frantic clients to guys getting served lawsuits in real-time.
Theo cleared his throat. “Hey there. I’ve got a meeting with Mr. Graves.”
The receptionist finally looked up, her gaze flicking over him like she was mentally categorizing him into a risk assessment chart. “Name?”
“Theo. Lucky Star Ventures.”
Her eyebrow twitched slightly—just enough for Theo to know she recognized the name, but not enough to suggest she was impressed. She typed something into her computer, the keyboard clicks judgmental as hell.
“Have a seat. He’ll be with you shortly.”
Theo nodded, slipping into a nearby chair. Step one: Survive the receptionist. Completed.
Theo didn’t have to wait long. The receptionist barely glanced up from her screen before nodding toward a sleek, dark-wood door down the hall.
“Mr. Graves will see you now,” she gave him directions, already moving on with her day.
Theo straightened his tie, took a breath, and made his way down the hallway, the plush carpet muffling his steps like a courtroom designed for plausible deniability. The door had a simple brass plaque: OJ Conference Room.
He smirked. ‘OJ? I wonder why it’s named that?’
Pushing the door open, Theo stepped inside and was immediately hit by the scent of expensive cologne, old books, and the kind of legal gray areas that cost six figures per hour.
At the far end of the long conference table sat Darius Graves, a man who looked like he’d been born in a three-piece suit and had never once considered wearing business casual. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back with precision, his cufflinks probably cost more than Theo’s monthly salary, and his eyes had the cool, assessing sharpness of a man who’d seen every loophole and exploited all of them.
Graves didn’t bother standing as Theo approached. Instead, he gestured toward a chair with the kind of effortless authority that made it clear: sit, talk, don’t waste my time.
Theo slid into the seat, crossing one leg over the other as he met Graves’ calculating gaze with a polite but measured smile.
“Mr. Graves,” Theo said smoothly. “Thanks for taking the meeting.”
Graves steepled his fingers, his expression unreadable. “You must be the guy looking for alternative credentialing solutions.”
Theo sighed, already regretting this. “Yeah, that’s me.”
Graves sat in his chair, steepling his fingers like he was a Bhond villain. “So, I hear your guy already knows the law.”
Theo nodded. “Yeah, he could pass the bar exam today, but he needs the degree on paper.”
Graves grinned. “Good. Saves time. Normally, we have to train these clowns from scratch.”
“You do this a lot?” Theo asked.
“More than you’d think,” Graves said with a greasy smile. “Now, let’s talk options.”
Theo folded his arms. “Alright. What are we looking at?”
“If you’re in a hurry, we can get him into an online law program, shuffle some credits around, and—voilà—six months later, he’s got a degree from a real school. No questions asked, fully accredited.”
Theo raised an eyebrow. “That sounds… almost legal.”
Graves shrugged. “It is legal. We’re just optimizing the system.”
“That’s too long,” Theo said. “We need something faster.”
Graves’s smirk widened. “Then I’d recommend our legacy rewrite. We find a law school willing to ‘remember’ that your guy was actually a student there. A little donation, some administrative recalibration, and suddenly he has a diploma from a well-respected institution. Retroactive transcripts, glowing recommendations, the works.”
Theo whistled. “That’s some old-money nonsense.”
“Exactly,” Graves said smoothly. “Perfect for someone who doesn’t want any gaps in their history.”
Theo blinked. “That’s really possible?”
Graves chuckled. “My friend, anything is possible with the right signatures.”
Theo leaned back, considering. “Alright. We’ll go with the legacy rewrite. Make it look like he actually went to law school.”
Graves’s grin widened. “A fine choice. I’ll have the paperwork processed by the end of the week. By the time anyone checks, your guy will be an esteemed alumni of one of Canada’s finest law schools.”
Theo stood and shook his hand. “Pleasure doing business.”
As he walked out, he pulled out his phone and called Maluck.
“Alright, boss. We’ve got a lawyer. Retroactively.”
Maluck chuckled. “So we paid for memories?”
“Yep.”
“I love this world.”
***
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