BELLADONNA

Chp41: the naked truth

The judge's gavel hit the desk with a sharp, commanding crack, the sound reverberating through the room like a thunderclap. The tension in the courtroom snapped, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire room had collectively held its breath. His voice, low and steady, rang out with authority, cutting through the chaos that Aleena's outburst had caused.

"Miss Aleena,"

the judge called, his tone firm,

"take back your seat and behave in the courtroom. Answer only what is being questioned."

Aleena paused, her chest still heaving, her eyes blazing with a fire that was far from extinguished. She glanced around the room, the anger still simmering beneath her skin, but the judge's command had an effect. The gavel strike had reminded her that, for all her defiance, the courtroom still held some semblance of order—at least for now.

She stood still for a long moment, the silence between her and the judge heavy and thick. Slowly, reluctantly, she eased back into her seat, her expression a mixture of frustration and defiance. She wasn't done, not by a long shot, but for the moment, she had been forced to comply. Her eyes still burned with the intensity of her words, but she swallowed the anger, if only for the time being.

The prosecutor, still visibly rattled, took a deep breath, clearly relieved by the judge’s intervention. He gave Aleena a pointed look, but she didn’t return it, her eyes now focused on the judge, who was looking directly at her, unyielding.

"Let’s maintain order in this court, Miss Aleena,"

the judge said, his tone softer now, but still authoritative.

"We will proceed with the trial in a manner that respects the process."

Aleena didn't respond. She didn’t need to. Her silence spoke volumes. She had said what she needed to say, and though she was temporarily silenced by the judge's command, her words had already left their mark. The prosecutor had been momentarily shaken, the courtroom had been rattled, and she had exposed a deeper, unsettling truth that no one in the room would easily forget.

The judge gave a sharp nod, signaling for the proceedings to continue, his gaze lingering on Aleena for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the prosecutor, who was now taking a step forward, preparing to resume his questioning.

But Aleena sat there, stewing in her thoughts, her defiance now simmering beneath the surface. She knew the battle wasn’t over—it had only just begun. And she was ready to fight, whatever it took.

The prosecutor was well known, a seasoned figure in the courtroom, respected and feared for his ability to dismantle even the most cunning criminals. He had faced countless defendants, each one trying to outwit him, yet none had ever made him feel the slightest hint of unease. But as he stood before Aleena for the first time, something shifted. A strange sensation washed over him, like a veil had been pulled back, exposing his own vulnerability. There was something about her—something unshakable—that made him feel off guard, as if she could see right through him.

He hated that feeling. Hated that she was the first person to ever make him question his own composure. Aleena wasn’t like the others; she was different. She held herself with a quiet, undeniable confidence, as if she already knew the outcome of this trial. There was no fear in her eyes, no sign of guilt or hesitation. She stood there, facing him with a steady gaze, challenging his every move.

The prosecutor’s jaw tightened. He was never one to back down. He had built his reputation on his ability to break down witnesses and defendants, to expose lies and half-truths with surgical precision. And he wasn’t about to let Aleena be the one to outsmart him. He was going to make her slip, make her twist herself into knots. He had his tactics, his strategies, and he was prepared to use every last one of them.