Can't Say I Don't Love You (A Sokeefe AU)

Chapter 3

A/N: I sincerely hope you guys don't mind, I threw in a third person Gisela POV here... 'Cause like I said before, she's a good person in this AU... Hopefully that'll help y'all warm up more to her... At least here. :))

By the way, I have no idea how police systems work, so my apologises if any details here are wrong.

Note, Marella's uncle's name is fake, I made it up. (I have no idea how to pronounce it, for your information.)

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Sophie

The day after, a pair of cops showed up at Wrath Headquarters.

Awesome.

She was taken in, of course. And she did it willingly.

Firstly, because Liam told her to. And that he would bail her out the first chance he got, then they'd work on who'd framed her.

Secondly, she was bored. At least being in the detention centre gave her some sort of amusement.

At that moment, she was studying the cuffs on her wrists, wondering if they'd come lose, or she could pick the lock, or she'd have to do it to the old fashioned way, and dislocate her wrists before removing the pieces of metal.

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, it won't work," said the officer sitting next to her in the car.

She cocked her head. "What makes you think you know what I'm thinking?"

She studied the woman somehow, she looked vaguely familiar.

She was young for someone so highly ranked.

Maybe mid to early thirties or so.

Long, blonde hair tucked into a bun at the base of her neck, and calculating ice blue eyes. "Trust me, I've seen enough gangsters to know that you're considering dislocating your wrists to escape."

Sophie shrugged. "I didn't do it, so why should I be worried? I spent the entire night yesterday, getting lectured by my brother."

"There's evidence against you, I'm sure you know that."

"And there's very intense rivalry in triad gangs, I'm sure you know that."

The officer merely chuckled, and flicked off some imaginary lint from her uniform.

They didn't talk for the rest of the ride to the detention centre.

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Gisela

Gisela didn't think the girl was lying.

She'd spent enough of her life pursuing her career to know how to perfectly read a person based on his/her reactions and words.

And Sophie Foster wasn't lying.

Sure, she was a carefree, rebellious teenager.

Sure, she was the Heir to Wrath, probably raised and trained in violence and brutality.

But she didn't seem the type to kill.

She didn't seem bothered by the fact that the murder she'd been accused for could land her in a home.

Based on intuition and instinct alone, she could tell.

Could tell that Sophie wasn't lying, that she hadn't done it.

But her words alone wouldn't do anything.

They needed solid evidence.

She was still at the detention centre, having been posted there for a few weeks to investigate the murder.