The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Everything shifted.

“GET HIM OUT!”

“CORRUPT JUDGE!”

“Lock them BOTH up!”

Emily couldn’t take it anymore.

She jumped up, practically screaming.

“It’s FAKE. All of it. She’s lying to win. Don’t believe her!”

“Zane and I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Zane found his voice. “The evidence is fabricated. None of this is

That’s when the doors opened.

Three people in suits walked in. Badges out.

They moved straight toward Zane.

The lead investigator held up his credentials.

“Judge Lawson. We’ve received a formal complaint regarding abuse of power, obstruction of justice, and enabling harm to a minor.”

He paused.

“You’re coming with us. Now.”

Zane’s legs gave out.

A bailiff caught him before he hit the floor.

He tried to speak. Tried to argue.

They didn’t let him.

One of the officers pulled out handcuffs. Snapped them around his wrists.

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The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY

Chapter 7

The cold metal made him flinch.

He stared at the cuffs. Didn’t move.

“I didn’t… this is wrong…”

“I didn’t do anything…”

The lead investigator addressed the courtroom.

“This trial is postponed indefinitely. You’ll be notified when proceedings resume.”

They started walking him out.

As they passed me, Zane stopped.

Turned.

His eyes met mine. Anger. Desperation. And something that looked almost like betrayal.

His mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

They pulled him away.

Within hours, it was everywhere.

JUDGE ACCUSED OF PROTECTING MISTRESS’S SON WHILE OWN CHILD SUFFERED

Everything he’d built–reputation, awards, respect–gone.

People dug up the high school scandal. Found more evidence of favors he’d pulled for Emily over the years.

Their names trended for days. The comments were vicious.

A week later, the trial resumed.

This time, no one was there to protect them.

The evidence was clear.

Dylan was sentenced to juvenile detention. Mandatory counseling.

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The Verdict on My Tusha the Judge: GUILTY

Chapter 7

Emily lost her job.

She was also fined for perjury and fabricating evidence.

Her name was destroyed. Everywhere she went, people recognized her. Whispered. Stared.

Someone threw trash at her door. Spray–painted her car.

She had nowhere to go.

So she came to me.

Waited outside my building. Dropped to her knees when she saw me.

“Jenna, please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Tears everywhere.

“Please help me. Talk to someone. Get Dylan out. He’s just a kid. He doesn’t belong in that place.”

I looked down at her.

Waited for satisfaction to hit.

It didn’t come.

Just exhaustion.

“If you want to beg, go to the prison.”

“Zane’s the one who spoiled you. Zane’s the one who threw his own son under the bus.”

“He’s the one you should be asking.”

I turned toward the building.

Behind me, I heard her crying. Begging.

I didn’t look back.

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