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“Soren, darling, why are you packing?” I love my mother, but she’s kind of an airhead. She lives in the clouds, not really accepting a reality until it’s forced upon her.
“I told you last night, Mother, I was going to stay with Adonis for the weekend.” I suspect the man won’t let me return home, however.
“You barely know this man.” She flounces on the bed like we’re girlfriends gossiping about boys.
“That’s why I’m going. I want to know him.” I want so much more than that. I want everything we spoke of yesterday.
“He’s not the type of man you should be with.” She tries a different tactic.
“What kind of man is that?” Her shoulder lifts, and she doesn’t meet my eyes. “Mom, what kind of man do you think I should be with?”
She huffs. “Well, your father has been pitching you to one of his clients, Robert Stark. He’s some kind of architect. He’s a good man and could provide a good life for you.”
“I’m not dating one of Dad’s clients,” I mutter. Not a chance in hell.
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” She smiles brightly. “But the marriage has already been arranged for the end of the summer.”
I stand shocked, the color draining from my face. “Are you insane?”
She pouts at my accusation. “Of course not. Look, he wants heirs, so you’ll be expected to start sleeping together immediately. He won’t marry you until he knows for certain you can produce children.” She grabs my bag and dumps the contents into my closet.
Blue stares at her, his eyes narrowed, hackles rising. He can sense my distress. “I’m not sleeping with him. I’m not marrying him.”
The doorbell rings, and I rush for the stairs, expecting it to be Adonis. I’m ready to leave this house with nothing but the clothes on my back if necessary. As Megan, one of the maids, opens the door, I halt halfway down when I see Detective Ferguson on the other side.
He spots me immediately. “Miss Chambers, I’m going to need you to come with us.” At this point, I’ll do anything to get out of this house.
Something I’ll come to regret.
* * *
Glaring at the screen and then at the detective, I give him the same answer as every other day this week. “I didn’t know him before.”
“What about these men?” The video shows Zak, Eli, and Joe nabbing the bank robbers after they fled from the rear of the bank.
“No,” I repeat. It’s clear that the robbers didn’t go willingly. I also remember the phone call Adonis made to someone before he was shot in the shoulder, demanding they grab the men on their way out.
“Come on, Miss Chambers. I know you were at Adonis Lorde’s home yesterday. He’s more than a stranger to you.” He crosses his arms as he sits back.
Blowing out a breath, I finally say, “I’d like a lawyer now.”
“Why? Did you do something wrong? Were you part of the robbery?” This man is unbelievable.
“Of course not. But you’re hauling me in here every day since it happened, thinking I know more about one of the other victims than I told you, and I don’t. I’m feeling decidedly less like the victim I am and more like the perpetrator. I won’t say another word until I’m allowed to call my lawyer.” He realizes the lawyer is my dad, but he’s not who I plan on calling. I don’t know who that’ll be, but I can’t keep up with this.
I’m tired and hungry. The clock says I’ve been here for nearly four hours already, and my back hurts. I feel more like I’ve done something wrong just because I wanted to do something right. All I wanted was to save a dog. Now, I’m being victimized repeatedly, and I can’t seem to stop it.
My emotions are running high, so when the door opens and a scowling man enters the room, appearing angrier by the second, I burst into tears.
“Detective Ferguson, we already had a talk about this. You’ve been interrogating my client for no reason, and now, she’s been here for hours without me. I’ll have your badge for this.” Stunned, I don’t know what to say, so I drop my head on the table and focus on my breathing.
A door slams shut, making me jump. “Miss Chambers?” I turn my head when the lawyer says my name. “My name is Trent Graham. Mr. Lorde appointed me your council yesterday. Shall we go?”
Blinking up at him, I’m sure I must have heard him wrong, but his warm smile as he offers me a hand says otherwise. “I don’t know what they want from me?” I mutter.
“Darling, it’s not you they want anything from, it’s Mr. Lorde. I promised him I’d take care of this for you, and I’ve done so. Now let’s get you out of here and find something to eat. You’re looking a little pale.”
Nodding, I accept his hand this time as he leads me from the interrogation room. Detective Ferguson and another man glare as we walk out of the precinct. I get the feeling I haven’t heard the last from the man, either.
