Crime And Punishment Novels & Stories

3rd Person's POV Bribery, embezzlement, tax evasion, and murder are the crimes announced by the judge under the defendants, Clyde Evans and Jameson Nicholson. They cannot get away with those crimes because strong evidence was passed to the court. Until the very end, the two partners in crime are two partners in prison.

The Agent wondered. “Special Agent Boyle, I agree with you crime is a pest on society, people; innocent people have suffered because of it…but the truth? Crime is only but the victim of society, created by society…the people, the law, the times…do they favor all?” Doctor Royce continued, ending with a question afterwards as the Agent watched keenly. “If we can answer these questions, then we can end crime by a wide margin in the society” the woman revealed.

she asks, one part of her anxious for his answer while the other afraid to know his answer. “No,” his tone turns serious, he steps a little closer to her “I will never be hesitant to be your boyfriend, even husband,” he says, his voice low yet the tome enough to express seriousness “Like you said,” he continues “Your loved ones know that you’re right,” She smiles, her inner being feeling something, something she hasn’t endured. She never cared about people’s opinions, however, a petite part of her is concerned about it, she knew that her actions are ruthless and even heard people talking about it, some say she is a sick woman and some say she is just as those killers but she never cared, bec

I walked to him and lowered myself across his hard muscled legs, my back presented to him, my cheek pressed against the cool coverlet. "Do you know," he began, his voice a low murmur, "why I am doing this?" His hand trailed a slow, deliberate path down the curve of my spine, over the swell of my hip, and came to rest, cupping one bare cheek of my ass. My breath seized in my lungs, and I squeezed my eyes shut. "You are punishing me, Peter ," I breathed out, my voice trembling. His fingers began to make slow, possessive circles on my skin. "Reasons?"

“You killed someone before and used your superiority to conceal your crime. How is it different from what I am telling you to do?” “Every disparity the world could express, Doctor. I killed them as restitution for the life they owe me,” Vishnu replied indifferently. “A crime is a crime, Prosecutor. It is still close and not far from injustice.” “And telling me to kill someone is also taking lives, not saving them, is it?”

His expression reflects this state of heightened awareness as he takes a moment before giving me an answer. “Many criminals do feel remorse later on," he noted carefully. “But the reason behind this is often dubious. Some may regret their decision because they did not follow through and miss out on potential benefits, while others may recognize the foolishness of their original plan after it's too late to turn back. The true reason for a criminal to regret remains a mystery.”

"I believe that's not—" "Oh, but you haven't heard my explanation," I pressed, silencing. Bitches don't get to talk. "See, there are crimes that will never be justifiable, unlike murder. In the coldest days, when you did something wrong, you'd get a death sentence, right?" I raised both my brows. "When it was done in the name of the Law, it was justifiable. Some crimes are not justifiable. No matter how much you want them to be. You'll probably die of age while trying to justify such...crimes, you follow?" I asked with an easy smile, sensing his uneasiness.

Anyone could easily see what these people had done, and what punishments that they have received. . Polka had a reason for doing so, though. He always explained to me, whenever we had the chance to meet, that people usually have reasons in behind the motive of doing whatever crimes they did. But there was no absolute fucking reason for people to commit pedophilia nor rape. Polka had zero considerations for people who commit shit like that. I could never understand the minds of those criminals who do things like that too. Among all kinds of crime that people could do, those two kinds of crimes were the ones that I deemed the the worst. Only people who were sick in the head would do such a cri

Greater but not vile crimes are punished with public whippings, a spectacle meant to sear shame into the guilty while showing others what awaits them if they walk the same path. But there are lines that cannot be crossed without consequence. Those who kill, who rape, who break sacred laws of the pack are brought here, to this place. They are tortured, they are stripped of everything, and when their bodies finally fail them, I take their heads. Skinned, preserved, and displayed in the criminal museum, where their names, their crimes, and the details of their downfall are written for all to read. Death alone is not enough. Humiliation must follow them into eternity. Is that cruelty? Yes. And i

He is kind and humorous, and when he speaks of being president one day, I believe him. “Governor Smith, how are you?” My husband greets him with the same excitement and extends his hand. This is how this world is, crime and capital go hand in hand. There is no definitive line between those who create laws and those who break them. There is only recognition and understanding of power. I used to have power once. “And Mrs. Cattaneo, how are you?” I extend my arm like a robot, and pretend to be delighted when he kisses my hand.