With the presiding judge's permission, the side door of the courtroom slowly opened.
The sharp echo of high heels cut through the tense silence.
A tall, elegant woman stepped inside.
She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with long chestnut hair cascading in loose waves down her back. Her makeup was meticulous, restrained yet seductive. The black designer dress she wore was understated in color but expensive in cut, hugging her figure with deliberate precision.
Every movement of her waist and hips carried a quiet confidence—controlled, practiced, unmistakably intimate.
The courtroom stirred.
She did not look at the gallery. She did not hesitate. She walked straight to the witness stand and raised her right hand, calmly taking the oath under the clerk's guidance.
"Please state your name and occupation," the prosecutor said.
"Emily Foster," the woman replied evenly. "Currently unemployed."
Her voice was low, smooth, almost lazy.
Lucas stood.
"Ms. Foster," he said calmly, "what is your relationship with Judge Michael Bennett?"
At the sound of the name, the woman finally turned her gaze.
Her eyes landed on Bennett.
There was no affection in them.
No anger.
Only cold finality.
"We were romantically involved."
Four words.
The courtroom exploded.
Gasps rippled through the benches. Reporters nearly dropped their microphones. The live feed chat detonated.
Bennett lurched to his feet.
"That's a lie!" he shouted hoarsely, pointing at her. "I don't know her! Your Honor, this woman has been planted—this is slander! She's been paid to frame me!"
"Order!" Judge Sullivan slammed the gavel. "Michael Bennett, you will control yourself. Sit down."
Emily's lips curved faintly.
Lucas spoke again, unhurried. "Judge Bennett, perhaps these will refresh your memory."
Lily was already on her feet, handing a flash drive to the bailiff.
The screen lit up.
Photos.
Dinner in private rooms of Manhattan restaurants.
Vacations on a private beach in the Caribbean.
Selfies taken in a penthouse bedroom, rumpled sheets unmistakable in the background.
Bennett's voice died in his throat.
Lucas turned back to the witness stand.
"Ms. Foster. Judge Bennett's salary is publicly documented. How did he maintain this level of spending?"
"He had other income," she said casually.
"What kind?"
She shrugged. "Working with attorneys. Fixing outcomes. Splitting profits."
The courtroom went dead silent.
"Can you explain the process?"
"I don't know the legal details," Emily said. "But he talked. A lot. He said he had a long-standing arrangement with a firm called Morrison & Cheng LLP. Zachary Kang handled most of it."
She paused, then continued calmly.
"After each ruling, the firm transferred a 'consulting fee' to designated accounts. The money was then withdrawn in cash or moved through relatives."
She lifted her eyes slightly.
"He used to say the law serves whoever knows how to bend it. That poor men should learn their place—in prison."
Bennett's face drained of color.
Those were words he had spoken drunk, naked, careless—never meant to leave the bedroom.
"This is nonsense!" Bennett shouted desperately. "Where's the proof? Just her word?"
Emily laughed softly.
"Oh, I brought proof."
She reached into her handbag and removed a slim leather notebook.
"He gave this to me," she said. "He said writing things down helped him remember his 'achievements.'"
The bailiff carried it to the bench.
Judge Sullivan opened it.
His pupils contracted.
"Project this," he ordered.
The ledger appeared on the screen.
Page after page of precise handwriting.
Dates.
Case names.
Attorney names.
Amounts.
Outcomes.
Divorce case — Morrison & Cheng LLP — consulting fee: $60,000 — judgment finalized
Construction dispute — claim dismissed — consulting fee: $180,000
Vehicular manslaughter — sentence reduced — 'gift': antique painting, appraised $140,000
It wasn't a diary.
It was a confession.
Bennett stared at his own handwriting.
The courtroom spun.
The last wall inside his mind collapsed.
Under the gaze of millions watching live, the man who had spoken endlessly of "judicial integrity" rolled his eyes back and collapsed into his chair.
"Medical assistance!" someone shouted.
Chaos erupted as paramedics rushed in.
Lucas sat down.
Calm.
Detached.
Inside his mind, the system panel flickered.
God-Level Lawyer System
Current Case: Ethan Walker — False Rape Accusation
Evidence Unlocked: 11 / 11
Chat records proving consensual relationship — used
Coaching of false testimony — used
Extortion recordings — used
Illicit money transfers — used
Key witness testimony — used
Evidence tampering footage — used
Judge's biased alternate account — used
Intimate photographs — used
Key witness Emily Foster — used
Corruption ledger — used
Psychological manipulation recording — unused
A faint smile touched Lucas's lips.
One card remained.
Lily sat beside him, staring forward, her breath shallow.
This wasn't lawyering.
This was annihilation.
Judge Sullivan finally restored order, his voice heavy but resolute.
"In light of the profound developments and criminal conduct revealed today, this court will postpone sentencing."
He struck the gavel.
"The district attorney's office and judicial oversight committee will formally pursue charges against Michael Bennett, Zachary Kang, and all related parties."
"No one involved will be spared."
Outside the courthouse, flashes erupted.
Reporters surged forward.
"Attorney Carter! How did you uncover all of this?"
"Do you believe justice has finally been served?"
Lucas paused.
He looked at the crowd.
Then spoke only once.
"Justice may be delayed," he said calmly,
"but it is never denied."