While Justice Sleeps Novels & Stories

​He offered a brief, loyal nod and slipped out into the private foyer, leaving the two of us alone in the quiet amber glow of the living room. ​Justice walked over, his broad shoulders slumped with a fatigue that seemed to weigh down his entire frame. He looked utterly spent—the three weeks of sleepless ICU vigils, the adrenaline of the perimeter breach, and the relief of the homecoming finally catching up to him all at once. He collapsed heavily onto the adjacent sofa, just inches from my chair, his long legs stretching out across the rug. ​"Everything is clean," he muttered, his voice dropping into a thick, gravelly rasp. He leaned his head back against the leather cushion, his jaw relaxin

Emily needs his support and guidance; the new assistant prosecutor may not be able to handle the demands of the dedicated, beautiful prosecutor. Thus, Murat typed a reply to Hersek, stating that he needed a little more time, perhaps as soon as a week from now, to fly to Turkey. Then Murat laid his weary body down on the soft, comfortable bed. The white sheets were a bit rumpled because Lieutenant Benjamin and Sergeant Rodney had slept on the spring bed the night before while he was watching over Emily at the hospital. Around 3:00 PM Paris time, Murat woke up from his short nap and put on his clothes, which had been air-dried, as he hadn’t brought any spare clothes at all.

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.

Kaye Aubrey whispered then pecked on his cheek before leaving him in a greater state of stress. A safe distance away from them Victor was shaking his head as he held on to the back of Justice’s neck. The younger man’s wolf eyes glowed in the dark. “Let me go.” Justice growled, “I’ll just give her one scratch. Promise. I won’t kill her.” “She didn’t do anything, Man, let it go.” Victor chided. Justice has so much to learn about the human world. It’s just how humans are with their friends, although he too did smell the lust out of Kaye Aubrey, he also smelled hunger.

Even now she is sure that Olivia's stomach has grown bigger because the baby is almost in its seventh month. Eden paused in front of Ciara's room when she heard Justice's faint whimper. "Nightmare," Eden muttered and immediately went into her daughter's room which was lit only by the light from the night lamp. In the middle of the large bed with the dominant pink color, Ciara was seen sleeping soundly facing Justice. But Justice did not look as restful as Ciara because the little girl continued to furrow her brows while letting out a small whimper from her small lips. Eden then walked over to the bed and tried to stroke Justice's head a few times to calm the little girl back down.

(Jane’s POV) I woke before the sun—no dreams, no alarm, just the kind of alertness that follows when something quietly comes undone. Chicago looked washed out through the hotel window, clouds hanging low over a skyline that never stopped moving, only shifting shape. I drank a glass of cold water and stood still, watching the city stir. A truck rolled down the avenue. One streetlight flickered, reluctant to give up. Everything moved slowly, deliberately, unbothered by attention. And that, somehow, felt honest.

James' POV Feeling satisfied upon seeing the topic I had paid for shoot up the trending chart, I prepared to turn in for the night. Not even 30 minutes later, Wanda Foster's hurried and heavy footsteps sounded outside the room. "Is this your way of getting revenge, James Gulliver?" she demanded. "Who is she?" She then threw a photo in my face. One half of the photo showed a flirtatious image of me as I lounged on the bed, while the other half of the photo showed my brother, Mason Gulliver, pressing Wanda against a window in an explicit position.

"Look at your masterpiece, Zach Davies. Aren't you just so proud of yourself right now?" His voice suddenly came to an abrupt halt. My body had remained in the same position it was in four hours ago without moving a single muscle. "You're still playing dead with me?" The last of the sun rays filtered into the classroom, illuminating the dust particles suspended in the air. I was lying on the ground in a very unnatural position that also looked a little curled-up. My fingers, locked in the painful spasm of the last moments of my life, gripped tightly at the torn exam document.

"If he shows up again, I'll call the police." I added with a smile, "After all, I'm a professional now." I pulled a thick copy of the Criminal Law from the bookshelf and waved it in front of her. "No one is stealing anything from me ever again. Not even a needle." Hazel laughed, rose onto her toes, and kissed my forehead. "Yes, my lawyer." The apartment was filled with the smell of soup. The smell of ordinary life. The smell of victory. In a world this mad, only by staying sharp and clear-headed could you protect a small pocket of happiness.

Probably just like this — half naked, half asleep, and half stupid. He rolls out of bed in one chaotic motion, grabs his suitcase, picks it up, and practically dives into the bathroom to hide as Joy groans and stretches in her bed. I’m just petrified in bed, completely losing my shit. All I can think is: lawsuit, lawsuit, lawsuit. “Morning, sunshine,” Joy sing-songs as she moves to one side to shut her machine off. Suddenly, the room feels too silent. Way too silent. Too much. “Were you able to sleep, dear?”