Dreamwalker
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Chapter 65 (The Mortal Multiverse : Liam Raven Harper)
🕑 Added 2025-10-22 17:13:01 +0000 UTCChapter 65 - Taco’s & Arrogant Bratton
Liam Pov
I parked my bike in the DA’s parking lot, locked it, and headed inside.
The familiar hum of morning chatter and the sound of heels on marble echoed through the hallways.
As I walked toward my office, a few prosecutors and clerks nodded or called out greetings.
I smiled back, offering polite nods and the occasional “Good morning.” The DA’s office had completely warmed up to me after the Hale case — fame spreads fast in this building.
When I reached my floor, I noticed Beth wasn’t at her desk. But as soon as I opened my office door, there she was — standing by my table, setting down a file.
“Good morning, Beth,” I said, dropping my bag beside my chair.
“Morning, Mr. Harper,” she replied with her usual bright smile. “This just came in.” She gestured to the file she’d placed on my desk.
I picked it up, scanning through the pages quickly. Everything was neatly arranged, as always.
“Oh, and the court just called,” she added. “The jewelry store robbery case got pushed an hour ahead — hearing’s now at three.”
I nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Beth.”
She smiled again, pleased as always when I noticed her efficiency, and walked out to her desk.
The robbery case was already tight. I had the witnesses, the CCTV, the getaway car traced — everything lined up perfectly.
Still, I liked rechecking. The small details were what turned a solid case into a sure win.
As I flipped through the evidence photos, my system phone buzzed as my HUD lit up
Text from Natasha:
“Following your lead. Your theory was right. I’ll have the full picture by the end of the day.”
[Well, looks like the Black Widow doesn’t disappoint,] Eve said in my mind, sounding almost smug.
“Didn’t expect her to,” I replied softly. “Send her a reply — something simple. ‘Good. Keep me posted.’”
[Done, boss,] she said with a playful tone.
By the time I wrapped up my review, the clock hit noon. My stomach grumbled like it had its own agenda.
“Lunch break?” I muttered.
[Finally. I was starting to think you’d forgotten what food tastes like,] Eve teased. [There’s this taco truck three blocks down — amazing reviews. Try it.]
“Alright, you’ve convinced me,” I said with a grin, grabbing my bag.
I told Beth I’d be out for lunch and headed out.
The city sunlight hit me as I got on my bike and rode to the spot Eve marked.
The taco truck was already busy — a line of hungry office workers and cops waiting for their fix.
The smell of grilled chicken and spices filled the air. When it was my turn, I ordered two pollo asado tacos, a side of fries, and a lemonade.
A few minutes later, the order came out hot and packed tight. I walked back to my bike, set the food on the seat, and unwrapped one taco.
I took a bite. Juicy chicken, smoky flavor, the right amount of kick. “Eve,” I said with a satisfied sigh, “you’ve outdone yourself.”
[I know. You can thank the reviews, not me.]
I chuckled and was about to take another bite when I noticed two guys approaching — one in a black leather jacket, the other in a brown one.
The first guy had messy hair, a grin that screamed “trouble,” and a spark in his eyes. The second had this overly eager smile, looking like he was meeting a celebrity.
“Excuse me,” the first one said, “you’re Liam Harper, right? The prosecutor who nailed Hale?”
“Depends who’s asking,” I replied, keeping my tone cool but friendly but I knew who they were.
“Detective Jake Peralta,” he said, flashing his badge like he’d been waiting all day for that moment. “And this is my partner, Detective Charles Boyle. We’re from the 99th precinct, Manhattan.”
Boyle leaned in, eyes wide. “Oh my god, it’s actually you! Dude, you crushed that case. Like — totally, legally crushed it.”
Jake shot him a look. “Charles, tone it down. You’re fangirling again.”
“I’m not fangirling,” Boyle said defensively. “I’m just appreciating greatness.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Nice to meet you both,” I said, extending a hand.
Jake shook it, grinning. “Gotta say, man, I watched your press conference. You looked like the cool guy who went to law school.”
Eve laughed in my head. [He’s not wrong.]
“Appreciate that,” I said coolly. “So, detectives from the 99, huh? What brings you to my side of town?”
“Lunch,” Jake said. “Boyle here loves food and has been talking about this place for sometime. When I spotted you here I had to come and introduce myself. After Hale’s case we’ve been following your work. You’ve got style.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “You guys seem to have your own reputation too.”
Boyle puffed up proudly. “We’re kind of the best. And also we’re best friends!”
Jake smirked. “We are best friends but it’s mostly me when it comes to being the best detective. He’s just my hype man.”
“Teamwork,” I said with a grin. “That’s what wins cases.”
Jake snapped his fingers. “Exactly! Hey, maybe one day we will team up — Harper and Peralta. It has a nice ring to it.”
“What about me?” Boyle looked at Peralta
“Ok. Ok. You too” Peralta said being a smile to Boyle’s face
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, genuinely amused.
We exchanged numbers — professional courtesy, but something told me we’d actually cross paths again.
I liked their energy; Jake’s wit and Boyle’s enthusiasm reminded me that not every cop partnership was just business.
As we finished our lunch, Jake looked at his watch. “We gotta roll, Boyle. Captain’ll kill us if we’re late again.”
“Right, right,” Boyle said, still beaming. “It was awesome meeting you, Mr. Harper!”
“Likewise,” I said, tossing my napkin into the bin. “Stay out of trouble.”
Jake grinned. “No promises.”
They waved as they walked off, still bickering about who was the cooler detective.
[You just made friends with two sitcom legends,] Eve joked.
“Yeah,” I said, smiling as I put on my helmet. “And I’ve got a case to win. Let’s go.”
The courthouse doors opened, and I stepped out into the bright afternoon sun.
Another win. The jewelry store robbery case was officially closed — airtight evidence, clean arguments, and a defendant who broke under cross-examination exactly when I expected.
[Another one for the record books, Mr. Harper,] Eve said with a teasing tone in my head. [You really do make this look easy.]
“Comes with practice,” I replied casually, straightening my suit jacket. My tie fluttered slightly in the breeze as I descended the courthouse steps.
That’s when I saw him — a man in an expensive, perfectly tailored charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, gold cufflinks catching the light. Hair slicked back, expression confident, almost smug.
He walked straight up to me with the air of a man who owned half the city.
“Mr. Harper,” he said with a charming smile, extending his hand. “Thomas Bratton. I’ve been meaning to meet you in person. I just saw your performance in there — brilliant work. But tell me, why waste all that talent playing prosecutor for the DA’s office?”
I shook his hand lightly and raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”
He chuckled and reached into his inner pocket, handing me a sleek, embossed business card. Bratton Gould LLP — Thomas Bratton, Managing Partner.
“So, Mr. Bratton,” I said in a calm, almost sly tone, “how’s Mr. Stone doing these days?”
His expression didn’t change, though I caught the faintest flicker in his eyes. “Gregory Stone? Fired,” Bratton replied smoothly. “After the whole Hale fiasco against you, we couldn’t keep a lawyer associated with criminals. We’re a firm of integrity, after all.”
“Of course,” I said with a faint smirk. “Integrity.”
He ignored the jab and continued, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’ve got sharp instincts, Harper. Come join us. I’ll make sure you get the best treatment — corner office, your own team, and I’ll personally see to it you become the youngest senior partner in New York history.”
[Wow, straight to seduction,] Eve said, clearly unimpressed. [What’s next? Promising you a statue in the lobby?]
I resisted the urge to laugh. Instead, I shook my head. “Tempting offer, Mr. Bratton, but I’m comfortable where I am. I’m not looking to leave the DA’s office anytime soon.”
Bratton tilted his head, smiling like a wolf pretending to be polite.
“From what I’ve heard, Bratton Gould’s been facing some… backlash since the Hale case,” I added casually.
He gave a small, dismissive laugh. “Ups and downs are part of the game, Mr. Harper. We’ve been hit before. We’ll still be standing long after others fall.”
I gave a small smile, perfectly calm. “Good to hear. But still, I’ll pass. I appreciate the offer.”
Bratton’s smile sharpened, just slightly. “You could be making millions, Liam. Yet you choose pennies on the dollar. Ambition doesn’t suit everyone, I suppose.”
He slipped his card back into his pocket and turned to leave, his shiny leather shoes clicking against the stone steps.
[Arrogant bastard,] Eve muttered. [You should’ve told him where to shove that ‘corner office.’]
I chuckled quietly. “Let him gloat for now. His kind always thinks money wins every game.”
[So we will take him down later?] she asked eagerly.
“Oh, definitely,” I said with a grin as I watched Bratton walk away. “But not now. The time will come — and when it does, I’ll make sure he remembers this conversation.”
[Now that’s the Liam I know,] Eve said, her tone full of amusement.
I straightened my cuffs, exhaled, and started walking toward my bike. Another victory behind me. Another name added to the list of people who’d eventually learn — I always played the long game.
-----END-----
