Something cold and sharp slides into place inside me.
“She’s crying,” Devin adds, quieter. “Barely holding it together. They tried to intimidate her before I stepped in.”
My grip tightens on the phone. “Who’s leading the interrogation?”
“Detective Calder.”
I remember the name immediately. The tone. The pressure.
“Are you handling it?” I ask.
“I am,” Devin replies. “But I wanted you aware. This could escalate.”
“I’m coming,” I say.
There’s a pause on the line.
“You don’t need to-” Devin starts.
“I said I’m coming,” I repeat.
This time, he doesn’t argue. “Understood.”
The call ends.
I don’t move right away.
Then I grab my jacket and head back downstairs.
Avery is still on the couch, passed out, oblivious. I don’t even feel annoyance now-just distance. She’s noise. A distraction. A problem I’ll deal with later.
Violet is not a problem.
She’s an asset.
No.
She’s more than that.
I step into the night and slide into the car, already issuing instructions to the driver. The city blurs past again, but this time I don’t see it. My thoughts are fixed on a single image-
Violet, sitting in a sterile room under fluorescent lights, holding herself together because that’s what she does. Because she doesn’t break where people can see.
They have no idea what they’re touching.
They’re treating her like a suspect because they don’t understand her value. They don’t see what she carries. What she holds together.
That’s their mistake.
Because Violet Pierce works for me.
Because she runs my company more than anyone realizes.
Because I need her functional. Protected. Untouched by sloppy authority and small men with badges and egos.
And because when I handed her my lawyer’s card tonight, I didn’t do it out of generosity.
I did it because she’s mine.
The realization settles with a frightening sense of certainty.
I don’t hesitate at the station. I don’t slow. Devin is already there when I arrive, expression grim but relieved when he sees me.
“She’s inside,” he says. “They’re pushing.”
“Then they stop,” I reply.
He studies me for a beat. “You’re personally invested.”
“Yes,” I say without shame.
Then, wisely, he steps back.
1 barely restrain the smile threatening to form.
Camille turns back to Calder, eyes blazing. “Let me get this straight. You think Violet murdered her own brother?”
Calder squares his shoulders. “We’re exploring all angles.”
“All angles?” she laughs sharply. “She reported him missing. She came down here voluntarily. Multiple times. Who does that if they’re guilty?”
“People trying to look innocent-“
“Bullshit,” Camille fires back. “Why would she spend weeks begging you for answers if she knew where his body was? Why would she keep working twelve-
hour days to pay for their mother’s rehab if she had something to hide?”
Calder opens his mouth.
Camille doesn’t let him speak.
“Did you check her work records?” she demands. “Her badge logs? Her security footage? Or did you decide it was easier to pin this on the woman who didn’t cry on command?”
The room is dead silent now.
Theo clears his throat. “Camille-“
She whirls on him. “No. I warned you.”
Theo raises both hands in surrender and steps fully away this time.
Good man. Slow learner.
Rowan
I step forward then, placing myself between Camille and Calder-not to shield her rage, but to end this.
“You are done interrogating her,” I say calmly.
Calder’s jaw tightens. “You don’t get to make that call.”
“I do,” I reply. “She invoked counsel.”
His eyes flick to Devin, who stands at my side without a word, presence alone a threat.
“And because,” I continue, voice low and precise, “if you proceed without cause, I will personally ensure your department spends the next year buried under motions, complaints, and internal reviews.”
Calder’s nostrils flare.
“She’s not leaving,” he says flatly.
I take one slow step closer.
“You’re treating my top employee like a criminal without evidence,” I say quietly. “That’s a mistake.”
His eyes harden. “You don’t own her.”
I smile.
Cold. Controlled.
“That,” I say, “is where you’re wrong.”
The air shifts.
“You will take us to her,” I continue, voice sharp now. “Immediately.”
Calder hesitates-just long enough to calculate the damage.
Then he turns and motions sharply to an officer. “This way.”
He leads Devin and me down the hall, past closed doors and muted voices, until he stops in front of one marked INTERVIEW B. He opens it with visible irritation.
She’s inside.
Violet.
She’s still wearing the dress.
Devin smirks, folding his arms. “They’re my students,” he adds easily. “I’m teaching them.”
Calder growls under his breath, fury vibrating under his skin-but he knows he’s boxed in.
He steps back. “Fine.”
Then he leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.
I don’t believe for a second he’s gone far.
He’s listening.
Waiting.
I step closer to Violet, lowering my voice. ‘Tell me everything.”
She looks at me like she’s been holding her breath for hours and finally doesn’t have to anymore.
“He-he kept pushing,” she says, words coming fast, uneven. “About where my brother was. About where I was. He kept asking the same questions over and over like if he repeated them enough, I’d slip.”
Her hands twist together in her lap.
“I told him everything,” she continues. “I didn’t hide anything. I told him I hadn’t heard from my brother in over a month. Not a call. Not a text. Nothing. And now he’s dead and they’re acting like-like I did something.”
Her voice cracks.
“I didn’t,” she says, sharper now. “I didn’t do anything. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to prove that when they’ve already decided I’m guilty.”
Camille steps closer, eyes bright with unshed tears, but Violet keeps going.
“I tried to leave,” she says. “I told him I couldn’t stay. That my mother needs me. That I have responsibilities. I can’t go to jail. I won’t.” Her breath stutters.
“I can’t give up. I don’t get to.”
Devin nods slowly. “You did the right thing by talking,” he says. “We’ll pull your phone records from the carrier. That’ll establish the lack of contact.”
“I-I need my phone,” Violet says immediately. “For work. For-“
“She’ll turn it over,” Devin says calmly. “It helps your case.”
Violet shakes her head. “I can’t just-“
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I cut in.
She turns toward me, startled. “Rowan-“
“Tonight,” I continue. “Same number. Same access. You won’t lose anything.”
She opens her mouth to argue again, but Devin keeps going.
“We’ll also need badge logs,” he says. “Entry times. Exit times. Security footage. Everything that establishes her location.”
I glance at Camille. “Can you handle that?”
Camille hesitates. Just briefly. “I can try,” she says. “But I’d probably call-*
“Violet,” she finishes.
A collective sigh moves through the room.
Violet presses her lips together. “The only other person with access is Kevin. Security.”
“Where is he?” I ask.
“Sick,” she replies. “Has been all week.”
I look at Theo.
He nods once. “Got it.”
He’s already pulling out his phone as he steps toward the door. “I’ll handle it.”
The door shuts softly behind him.
Devin leans forward again. “Tell me exactly what you told the detective.”
Violet swallows. “Everything. I answered every question. Even the ones that didn’t make sense.”
“Which ones?” Devin asks.
Her cheeks flush faintly. “He asked where I went dressed like this. How often I attend dinners with my boss. What kind of relationship we have.”
That doesn’t sit right.
I glance toward the mirror on the wall-the one-way glass.
I know he’s back there.
Listening.
Watching.
I turn back to Violet. “That ends now.”
She blinks. “What?”
“From this point forward,” I say evenly, “if Detective Calder calls you, texts you, shows up at your door, or breathes in your direction-you do not respond.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.