Georgia Lt. Gov. Burt Jones has subpoenaed Nathan Wade — the former special prosecutor at the center of the Fani Willis scandal — to appear before a Georgia Senate committee on Friday, February 13. Jones announced the move on social media, framing the hearing as a direct effort to resolve contradictions between Willis's account and Wade's sworn testimony.

The subpoena lands at a moment when the entire Willis prosecution has already collapsed under the weight of its own credibility problems. The racketeering case Willis brought against President Donald Trump and others in 2023 under Georgia's RICO statute was thrown out after Willis was disqualified over her relationship with Wade, the very man she handpicked to lead the prosecution.

Jones didn't mince words about what the inquiry is after:

"Fani Willis' story didn't match her boyfriend's testimony. We've subpoenaed her boyfriend, Nathan Wade, to appear before our Senate committee next Friday so we can determine who is telling the truth."

Follow the money

At its core, this is a story about public funds and public trust. According to Newsmax, Wade billed $250 per hour for his work on the Trump case and was paid more than $650,000. That's real money drawn from real taxpayers in Fulton County — routed to a man who happened to be in a romantic relationship with the district attorney who appointed him.

Jones pointed directly at the financial dimension:

"They've already wasted millions of taxpayer dollars and we need to get to the bottom of this prosecutorial misconduct."

The arrangement was breathtaking in its audacity. A county prosecutor launches the most politically charged case in Georgia history, hand-selects her boyfriend to run it, pays him handsomely with public dollars, and then expects no one to ask questions. The Senate committee is now asking those questions.

A case that was never about the law

Willis brought the RICO case in 2023 against Trump and 18 co-defendants, accusing them of attempting to overturn the 2020 presidential election results in Georgia. Trump denied wrongdoing and called the prosecution politically motivated. Critics noted the case appeared aimed at securing a conviction before the 2024 election — a timeline that had less to do with justice and more to do with a political calendar.

None of that came to pass. The case imploded not because of any legal defense Trump mounted, but because Willis couldn't keep her own house in order. The relationship with Wade, the financial entanglements, the contradictory testimony — all of it unraveled a prosecution that was supposed to be the most consequential criminal case against a sitting president's political future.

The credibility gap

Wade previously testified under oath about his relationship with Willis. According to Jones, that testimony doesn't match Willis's own account. One of them isn't telling the truth. That's not a partisan accusation — it's arithmetic. Two contradictory sworn statements cannot both be accurate.

The Senate committee's stated focus is straightforward:

• Were public funds misused in the prosecution?
• Was Willis truthful in her sworn statements?

These are not ideological questions. They are accountability questions — the kind that any functioning government should be able to answer without flinching.

What Friday could reveal

Wade now faces a choice: show up and answer questions under the authority of a legislative subpoena, or resist and escalate an already damaging situation. Either path keeps the spotlight exactly where Willis doesn't want it — on the internal mechanics of a prosecution that spent over $650,000 in taxpayer money and produced nothing but a constitutional crisis for Fulton County.

The broader lesson here extends well beyond Georgia. When prosecutors weaponize their offices for political ends, the fallout doesn't just damage the target. It damages the institution. It erodes the public's already fragile confidence that the justice system operates on evidence rather than ambition. Willis didn't just fail to convict Trump — she gave every future politically motivated prosecutor a cautionary tale written in her own billing records.

Friday morning, Nathan Wade sits in front of a Senate committee. The questions are simple. The answers will tell us whether anyone in Fulton County's DA office ever intended to play it straight.