Page 43 of Breadwinner
“Oh God,” Sarah gasped, as Nell lowered her mouth, meeting her heat with purpose, the sweet tang of Sarah coating her tongue.
She moaned against Sarah, moving her tongue in languid circles, mimicking the movements she had watched Sarah perform moments before. There was no teasing this time. No dragging things out. She had already done enough of that. Sarah had done everything she had asked.
“Nell, please,” Sarah begged.
She looked up at Sarah and groaned at the sight of her, eyes glazed over, heavy-lidded with want as she bit at her lip, waiting for Nell.
She took Sarah apart with devastating precision, with Sarah’s hand tangled in her hair, her body trembling as she came in Nell’s mouth. The tension snapped like a thread, pleasure rippling through Sarah in waves as Nell gripped her thighs, holding her in place, holding her through all of it, letting her be loud and letting her take up all the space she needed.
When it was over, Sarah sank back against the cushions, breathless and dazed, one hand still loosely curled in Nell’s hair.
Nell lifted her head slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she looked up at her.
“Ineverwant to see you make yourself small for anyone ever again,” she said quietly, gently pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “You are SarahfuckingGallagher. Remember that.”
NINE
SARAH
RULE #5: TIME IS YOUR MOST VALUABLE ASSET; SPEND IT WISELY.
The glass conference room rattled faintly with the sound of clinking champagne flutes and the congratulatory laughter of those present. From where she stood at the far end of the hallway, Sarah could still hear her name echoing in every direction.
She had won the toughest case she had ever argued. Itshouldhave felt better.
This win was one entire careers were retired on. Sarah should be celebrating. But this particular win left a lingering aftertaste of dread. She tossed one last look at the ongoing celebration before slipping into her corner office, closing the door quietly behind her. Wall-to-wall windows provided her with a panoramic view of the city, glowing in the early twilight. Seattle always looked its most beautiful this time of day—damp, steel-toned, and powerful, nestled on the peaks of hills overlooking the water.
Her reflection stared back at her in the glass, polished in her navy suit, but her eyes were too tired for someone who’d landed the most significant case of the year.
The ruling had been a clean, beautiful manipulation of language and precedent. Sarah’s client, a prominent techconglomerate, would now avoid a cascade of data privacy liabilities, allowing their work to move quickly without any unnecessary roadblocks. Everyone told her it was genius. Some had even called her brilliant for identifying the loophole her entire argument had been hedged on.
But Sarah couldn’t stop thinking about what it meant. The cracks in the broken system she was helping widen for the gain of a few wealthy men.
She hadn’t always felt this way. She had been enamored with the tech industry from a young age, infatuated with the digital transformation of the world, watching it unfold and wanting to be a part of it. There was so much possibility. When she first started, it had all felt like justice, like she was wielding the law for those who needed it because they were trying to make the world a better place. Lately, it merely felt like a game. One where the rules were made by those driving and gaining from the innovation, with power consolidated and reshuffled by lawyers like her when those same people got caught misusing and abusing the systems.
A knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts as she shook them away. Avery, her assistant, stepped into the office with an elegantly wrapped box.
“A courier dropped this off,” Avery said, with a grin. “It’s from Ms. Stanhope.”
Sarah took the package, her brows lifting in surprise. What was Nell up to? Gifts hadn’t been part of their arrangement so far. Curious, she tugged the ribbon free and opened the box, her breath catching as she peeled back the tissue paper.
It was a rare first edition ofRevolutionary Law: The Founding Principles of Public Justice. Her favorite legal text. Her fingers hovered over the cracked leather spine. The weight of it was exquisite in her hands.
There was a note tucked inside the cover, written in Nell’s distinctive, elegant scrawl.
You play this game better than anyone. Don’t forget, you also get to rewrite the rules.
Congratulations on the big win. I never doubted you. —N
Avery was still talking, something about the partners asking if Sarah would speak at the next client symposium, but she barely heard her.
“Thanks, Avery,” she said gently, not looking up. “Can you give me a few minutes?”
Avery paused, then nodded before slipping quietly out the door.
Sarah sat back in her chair, the book still in her hands. She traced the edges of the note with her thumb, quietly struck by the thoughtfulness of the gift. It was something she had only mentioned as a passing thought, but Nell had remembered.
The memory hit fast and hot. Nell had pulled her away from a party they were attending. Sarah had been embroiled in a debate over the fair use of user data with yet another forgettable wealthy man when Nell had appeared by her side, took her hand, guided her away down a hallway, into the library. Sarah had barely registered her irritation before the door clicked shut.