Justice Tumbling Novels & Stories

"Officer Lancer! I was wrong! I've learned my lesson! I have elderly parents and children to support at home. I can't lose this job! Please, have mercy. Please let me go!" I stepped back, avoiding her grasp. Looking down at her, I spoke calmly, stating the simplest truth. "When you used hospital regulations as a weapon to humiliate a desperate patient's family member, you should have known this day would come. Take responsibility for your ignorance and arrogance." Justice may be late, but it was inevitable. Today, I delivered that long-overdue justice with my own hands. With Edward and Alicia taken away, the farce finally came to an end. Members of the inspection team began sealing evidence

Lucas shifts the conversation from work to beliefs, the change almost imperceptible, like the glide of silk over skin. "The system fails the vulnerable," he says, and I can't decide if he knows my secrets or just my fears. His voice drops lower, inviting me to share more than I'm ready for. My instinct is to pull back, but the invitation is too tempting. I edge closer instead, careful not to give too much. "Justice is a luxury," I tell him, offering my own view, wondering if it reveals more than I intend. My wolf stirs uneasily, caught between wanting him closer and pushing him away.

“If you’d asked me this question six months ago, when I had just been released, I might have hesitated. But now, I wouldn’t. I will continue to practice law. No matter what lies ahead, fortune or disaster, I am determined to stay on this path.” One of the reporters quickly followed up. “Ms. Cullen, could you share what changed your mind and gave you the confidence to move forward?” Yara’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Because someone once told me that fairness and justice are sacred and inviolable, and I believe him.” The reporters continued shouting questions, but Yara said no more. She bent down and got into the car. The vehicle pulled away smoothly, leaving the courthouse behind. The c

The room lost its noise all at once, offering the floor to defeat as it crept across the table on its own. Dante reached for a glass of water from a passing server’s tray. He sipped slowly. No flicker of celebration in his eyes, no smile at the corners of his mouth—and it was precisely that emptiness that shredded the opponent’s pride. A victory so absolute it required no ceremony was the kind of wound that took the longest to close. “Rembrandt,” Dante said. One word that ended the game and opened the next act. ✘ ✘ ✘ Luca Ferrantelli was clearly not stupid enough to display a stolen masterpiece on a casino table. A man who had built his life from black-market commodities understood perfe