Novel & Cerita Justice Is Best Served Cold

I pulled my coat tighter around me and walked out, the winter air biting my cheeks the second I stepped onto the courthouse steps. Snowflakes drifted lazily, catching in my hair. Reporters clustered near the barricades, microphones bobbing like weapons, cameras flashing. “Miss Sinclair, how do you feel about Jennifer’s sentence?” “Do you believe justice has truly been served?” “Will you comment on the restitution ordered in your favor?” Their questions stabbed, overlapping, too many to answer. I kept walking, chin high, boots crunching on thin ice. Justice. What a strange word. It tasted metallic, sharp, half-satisfying.

I wouldn't be able to find a new job if I didn't accept the company's arrangements for me. Letting me resume working in a job position that the company selected for me was just a fancy excuse for them to demote me and exclude me from the core management. Great. Just great. What an incredibly smart method to take me out after squeezing out all of my worth! But what Xander and the others didn't know was that I had already died once. There was no way I'd let them do whatever they wanted to me without fighting back. After I returned to my office, I made myself a cup of coffee. I had no idea when exactly I got addicted to coffee—if I didn't have a cup of joe every day, I'd be extremely uncomforta

She was waiting for me to say more. My fingers grazed the edge of my apron. "They were good people. Respected. Loyal. The kind who believed in duty and sacrifice." I let out a soft breath. "But none of that mattered in the end. Because when people want something badly enough, they don’t care who they trample to get it." I wasn’t sure why, but satisfaction curled inside me as I said this in Axel’s presence. Let him hear it. Let him wonder. "I guess you could say I learned an important lesson early on—justice is just a fancy word for the strong. The rest of us? We just survive." I paused, then added, "I was poisoned and had to be rushed here. I decided to stay."

Most likely, he’d be surprised and then gently advise her not to waste her time on something that was in the past. What she hadn’t expected was for him to smile. Even less did she expect him to look her in the eye and say, “I’ll help you.” This time, it was Yara who was caught off guard. “Mr. Lloyd, this has nothing to do with you.” “Do you remember the motto of Hudson University’s law program?” Of course, Yara remembered. “Fairness and justice are sacred and inviolable. I have a degree in law from Hudson too. How could something unfair and unjust not concern me?”

It contained only one sentence: "Justice hasn’t been served." I clenched my jaw. Was this about Louis Brook? Or was it a warning?

" She looked at Caleb with righteous indignation. "Even if he accidentally kicked Dad's body into the garbage, wasn't he helping clean up? "He already knows he was wrong. Why shouldn't he be forgiven?" Caleb was spitting and urinating on the body that had just been retrieved. I stared at Vivian in disbelief. I genuinely thought something in her mind had broken. An obvious act of desecration had somehow become "helping" in her mouth. Where was the Vivian Stone who once spent five years stuck in a basic post because she refused bribes and insisted on a doctor's principles?

Coldly, he said, “Mr. Moore, if you value the Moores' survival, you will not treat her more than necessary. Keep her alive. That’s all. “She’ll spend the rest of her life bedridden. Ten bucks a month should suffice for food and clothing.” The Moore patriarch’s deep, trembling voice replied like a creaking old windmill. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.” Olivia panicked. “Max, kill me! Please, just end it!” It was too late. Afterward, I returned to Jinmist City. I inherited my father’s mantle and became the new head of the Millers. The next time I heard about Olivia was thirty years later, from a letter sent by an heir of the Johnsons.

"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.

I was scarred for life because of him. Now he's cold in the ground. I observed his funeral at a distance. There wasn't a big turnout and that made me feel a little better, but not any less bitter. He nearly ruined my life. Now his was over. Justice was done. What was that saying? Revenge is best served cold.

His clothes were already plastered to him but he seemed oblivious as he released her to address Moon. “She has a calming effect on you.” Justice shrugged. “It wasn’t as if we could ask you nicely to work out until you dropped from exhaustion.” “I thought about killing her, damn it.” Moon didn’t even look at Joy. “This is the big cure? Melt me?” “You’re back to being you so don’t complain.” Justice reached up and pulled at his shirt. “It’s like standing in hell, isn’t it? I’m going to need a shower.” “Let me loose.”