Criminal Judge

In the dim glow of dusk, a sleek black Lamborghini purred to a stop in front of a grand estate. The driver stepped out first, briskly opening the door for his passenger—a young man with a commanding pressure. Dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit, white shirt, polished shoes, and dark sunglasses, the man exuded an air of authority. He took a moment to study the mansion before striding toward the gate.

Not far away, a small Camry idled, its occupants sitting in tense silence. They seemed to be watching—and waiting.

---

Inside the mansion, the young man sat at the dining table opposite an elderly figure. His demeanor was icy, his presence almost suffocating.

“Where’s my money?” he asked, his voice cold and cutting.

The old man leaned back, his eyes narrowing. “I told you not to kill him. Yet, you did. How do you expect me to pay you after that?”

A faint smile tugged at the youth’s lips. It was neither warm nor friendly. “I’ll ask you again—where is my money?” This time, his voice was quieter, almost a whisper, but it carried a sharp edge.

“Don’t you get it, Ethan Reyes? There’s no money for you,” the old man sneered. “All of this is just pointless pestering.”

Ethan’s smile faded as he flickered his lighter gently. He stood, straightening his suit with deliberate calm. “Very well. Since you’ve squandered your chance, I’ll do what I must.”

“Do whatever you want, Lord Reyes,” the old man taunted, his grin mocking. “Others may fear you, but me? I don’t care!”

Ethan paused, glancing back once before heading outside.

---

At the gate, Ethan stopped abruptly and pulled out a lighter. With a flick, the small flame danced in the dark. Without hesitation, he hurled it toward the mansion.

“Let’s go,” he said, his tone as cold as ever.

The explosion came seconds after they drove off, a deafening boom that shattered the estate’s silence and sent flames licking into the night sky.

---

As the Lamborghini sped down the road, Ethan sat in the backseat, his expression unreadable. His gaze drifted to the passing scenery, but his mind was elsewhere. He knew he had crossed a line this time. Destroying a family’s heirloom—was bound to provoke retaliation. One that even he, a mafia lord, couldn't handle with all his influence.

And yet, the real problem wasn’t the old man’s connections. It was the law. No one, not even the son of Gabriel Reyes—the most feared mafia lord in the Philippines—could outrun the government forever. Unless he disappeared.

The car’s radio buzzed to life. “Welcome to News at 9. An explosion rocked one of the country’s major cities today. CCTV footage suggests the suspect is none other than Ethan Reyes, son of—”

“Turn it off,” Ethan ordered, his voice sharp and final.

“Yes, sir,” the driver stammered, silencing the radio immediately.

---

Within an hour, the car rolled into the driveway of a sprawling mansion. The estate, though magnificent, carried a strange stillness, as if life itself avoided its halls. Servants emerged to greet their arrival, but Ethan ignored them completely, heading straight inside.

His footsteps echoed against the marble floor as he approached the staircase.

“Ethan!” A voice called out.

Ethan didn’t respond. His gaze remained fixed ahead, cold and unyielding, as he ascended the staircase. His mind was already calculating his next move. Responding would’ve been pointless. He and his brother had been sworn enemies for as long as he could remember. John was the elder, Ethan the younger, but John’s hatred for him was palpable. He couldn’t stand the thought that Ethan might be the favored son, the so-called “chosen one.”

At the top of the staircase, Ethan turned into the right corridor, searching for his room.

“Ethan,” a voice called from behind him. He didn’t need to turn to recognize it—it was Gabriel Reyes.

“Ethan, why did you go to such lengths?” Gabriel asked, his tone laced with concern. “You could’ve burned his livestock or wiped out his servants, but erasing everything beyond the border? Was that really necessary?”

“Don’t lecture me, Dad,” Ethan replied coldly, barely glancing over his shoulder. “I did what had to be done. Besides, I have my own plans. I’m leaving for Korea. Maybe you can help me work out the details later.”

Without waiting for a response, Ethan found his room, entered, and shut the door.

Gabriel stood there, shaking his head in frustration before making his way back down the stairs.

A short while later, Ethan emerged from his room, a suitcase in hand. His icy demeanor hadn’t softened.

“Help me with this,” he ordered a nearby butler.

“Yes, sir.” The butler shivered, immediately abandoning his duties and took the luggage, moving ahead of Ethan as though he already knew where they were headed.

“Oh, so you’re running now?” John’s voice rang out, sharp and filled with disdain. He stood at the base of the staircase, his arms crossed. “And at this hour? Good luck avoiding the government, Ethan.”

Ethan paused briefly on the steps, his back still to John. The butler, sensing the tension, quickened his pace and disappeared outside.

“Yeah,” Ethan replied emotionlessly before continuing down the stairs.

“Hmph. Sooner or later, you’ll fall,” John muttered, his tone dripping with contempt.

Ethan didn’t bother to reply. Outside, his favorite Lamborghini awaited, the driver already seated and ready. The butler stowed the luggage carefully in the trunk before stepping aside.

Ethan settled into the back seat, leaning his head against the cushion as the driver entered the car.

“Where to, sire?” the driver asked, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. He didn’t dare meet Ethan’s piercing eyes.

“The embassy. I’m leaving the country,” Ethan replied, his tone flat. Without another word, he closed his eyes, shutting out the world as if falling into an instant slumber.

The driver exhaled softly and started the engine. The car purred as it glided out of the driveway and onto the main road, disappearing into the night.