BELLADONNA

Chp40: belladonna

The judge's voice broke through the tense silence, his authority clear as he addressed Aleena directly.

"Ms. Aleena,"

he began, his tone firm yet neutral,

"please take the seat in the middle for the prosecutor to begin his questioning."

Aleena didn't hesitate. She stood up slowly, the movement almost calculated, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. There was a momentary stillness, a collective breath held as she moved across the courtroom. Her lawyer gave her a brief, almost imperceptible nod, a sign of reassurance-or maybe just a final word of caution. She sat down in the middle seat, positioned squarely between her defense attorney and the prosecutor.

The courtroom seemed to hold its breath as the prosecutor stood, his eyes narrowing slightly as he prepared to make his move. The air felt thick with anticipation. This was the part of the trial everyone had been waiting for: the moment of direct confrontation, where the accused would be subjected to the prosecutor's relentless questioning. Every word, every detail, would be scrutinized under the harshest light.

Aleena sat there, composed but with a faint tightness around her eyes that suggested she was bracing for the storm. Her hands rested calmly on the armrests, but I could see the slight tension in her fingers-just enough to tell me that she wasn't as confident as her appearance suggested. It was a façade, one she was good at putting on, but underneath it, I knew she was feeling the pressure.

The prosecutor stepped forward, his expression unwavering. He was going to make her sweat. I could feel the weight of his gaze on Aleena as he began his questions, his voice low and deliberate.

"Ms. Belladonna,"

he began, pacing slightly as he spoke,

"You've maintained your innocence throughout this case. But the evidence, as we've already discussed, tells a different story. I want to ask you about your involvement in the financial transactions that have been linked to your name. How do you explain the series of illegal transfers traced directly back to your accounts?"

There it was-the first sharp volley in the battle. Aleena didn't flinch. She straightened in her seat, meeting the prosecutor's gaze with an air of confidence that almost seemed rehearsed.

"I've already explained, as my attorney has stated, that these transactions were made without my knowledge or consent,"

she replied coolly, her voice steady, though there was a slight edge to it.

The prosecutor raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed.

"Without your knowledge? Yet your name is listed on the accounts, Ms. Belladonna. And your signature is on several of the transaction records. How do you explain that?"

I could feel the tension in the air intensify. This was only the beginning, and already, it was clear the prosecutor wasn't going to make it easy for Aleena. Every answer she gave would be dissected, every contradiction exposed. The courtroom was electric with the anticipation of what would come next. Aleena's composure would be tested in ways she hadn't yet anticipated.

Aleena's voice cut through the prosecutor's steady questioning like a sudden storm, sharp and unwavering. The courtroom fell silent as everyone turned to her, surprised by the outburst. For a moment, it seemed like the weight of her words hung in the air, filling the space with a palpable tension.

She leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing at the prosecutor, the usual mask of composure slipping just enough to reveal something deeper.

"Can you stop addressing me as Belladonna?"