Judge Grayson exited the courtroom through the private door reserved for officials, and burly bodyguards flanked him like stone sentries.
A sleek, limited edition Bentley idled at the curb outside, its engine purring like a contented feline.
He slipped into the backseat, and one of the bodyguards held the door open for him in a smooth, choreographed movement.
Another hurriedly moved to take the driver's seat.
His phone buzzed insistently in the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He fished it out with an irritated sigh, glancing at the caller ID before bringing it to his ear.
"Speak!" His terse response betrayed no hint of emotion, not even annoyance.
There was a pause as the person at the other end of the line spoke.
His expression remained utterly impassive and unreadable through
