"Is this how the municipal court repays my hospitality, Your Honor?" Rafael asked, his voice dropping into an icy, lethal whisper that filled the quiet room.
Judge Vance sat frozen in the plush velvet armchair, the leather-bound folder trembling violently in his grasp. Sweat beaded along his forehead, glistening under the low golden light of the wall sconces.
"It is not what you think, Rafael," Vance stammered, pulling off his velvet mask to wipe his damp face. "I did not order this operation."
"And yet your personal seal is stamped across the primary authorization page," Rafael observed coldly, his eyes tracing the red wax mark on the spilled parchment.
He maintained his firm tread on the tactical map, his polished shoe pinning the document firmly against the dark wood flooring.
