I approached the door calmly and glanced at the man beside me. He nodded once, then positioned himself at my shoulder while I reached into my purse for the key card.
The card slid through the lock with a clean swipe, and the light turned green. I pushed the door open, and that was when I saw Judge Marston.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt half unbuttoned, his tie thrown somewhere near the nightstand. A young black man barely older than twenty sat beside him with a tray balanced on his lap. Lines of cocaine were spread across the silver surface, and had just lowered his head to sniff one when I entered.
The moment he saw me, he jerked upright so hard that he knocked the entire tray across the floor. The sound bounced off the walls, sharp and frantic. Powder scattered like snow across the carpet. Bottles rolled beneath the bed. The boy beside him scrambled backward, his eyes wide and terrified.
“Mrs… Abeni…” Judge Marston stammered, his voice cracking. His hand shook as he rushed to button his shirt, but he couldn’t even get the first button through the hole. The cocaine dusted the bottom of his nose, and he swiped at it too late.
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. I walked slowly, my movement smooth enough to unsettle the air. The judge watched me with the expression of a man who knew his life had just split open.
“Good evening, Judge,” I said politely.
“Abeni…” He swallowed hard. “I… I didn’t expect?—”
“No,” I replied lightly. “You didn’t.”
I looked around the room as if browsing through a boutique I didn’t particularly care for. Clothes were thrown across the carpet. Two empty liquor bottles leaned against each other near the lamp. A pair of heels I assumed belonged to the young man rested beside a crumpled dollar bill. There were marks on the mirror from where the judge had leaned in too close. It was all so predictable.
I let out a soft breath. “It amazes me,” I said, “how often men in power forget themselves.”
He lowered his head, sweat forming at his hairline.
“You convict criminals for a living,” I continued, walking closer until I could see every tremor in his hands, “yet somehow you manage to find yourself in rooms like this… engaging in the very crimes you claim to despise.”
The young man froze completely. Judge Marston’s voice quivered. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Please,” I said with a faint smile. “You are covered in cocaine and lying beside a boy half your age. It is exactly what it looks like.”
He shut his eyes for a moment, his face pale with humiliation.
I glanced around again. “I see you enjoy chaos. I suppose it must be difficult to pretend you are an honorable man every morning when you kiss your wife goodbye. She must believe she married someone stable… someone respectable.”
His throat tightened. He looked as if he wanted to sit up straighter, but his body would not obey him.
“I wonder,” I said softly, “what she would think if she saw you now. Or what your colleagues would say. Or the public. You do care about the public’s opinion, don’t you?”
He nodded, barely visible.
“You should,” I replied. “Because once they learn you are a bisexual drug addict with a taste for young men, and once they see these photos and videos that I now possess, your career will not simply crumble. It will vanish.”
His breath shook. Shame covered his face so deeply he couldn’t lift his head.
I took one more step forward, close enough that he could smell the faint sweetness of my perfume. “But none of that has to happen.”
He looked up slowly, his eyes full of fear.
“As I said in court, I only require something very simple.” My voice remained soft, warm and even. “You will sign off on mynephew’s bond. You will release him immediately, and you will do it because you know that if you do not… everything you have built will collapse beneath your feet.”
He swallowed so hard it was audible.
“My nephew will walk out of that jail,” I said, “and you will ensure there are no complications, delays or hidden obstacles. Because if you attempt even one more act of defiance, I will not ruin you gently.”
A tear formed at the corner of his eye.
I smiled faintly. “Good. You understand.”
He nodded once—a desperate, broken nod.
