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Your high heels clacked noisily against the cold, grey concrete floor as you stumbled and tripped, your arms tightly handcuffed behind your back. The young police officer escorting you looked like he'd stepped straight out of an action movie, with his chiselled features, steely gaze, and a jawline so sharp it could even cut glass. Despite your best attempts at seduction, which included honey-coated words, fluttering eyelashes, and lascivious smiles, his expression remained as deadpan as a brick wall.

The hallway was lined with dingy jail cells, filled with a cacophony of shouts and murmurs from the incarcerated. As they passed, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety at the thought of spending any amount of time behind those bars. Not only would your mother be rolling in her grave if she found out that you were currently being escorted to jail of all places yet again, but your ex-boss would have had your head on a fucking platter if he were to even catch a whiff of how your life had turned out over the course of the past couple of months. You could already imagine the brutal lecture you'd receive from Fukuchi.

As the two of you approached your designated cell, a cell that you had somewhat familiarised yourself with, you decided to up the ante. Act more flirtatious. More scandalous. You batted your eyelashes and flashed him a sultry smile, hoping to sway the officer into letting you off the hook, but deep down you knew it wouldn't work. This was now your fourth time here in perhaps...three weeks, and if it wasn't for the extremely generous (note the sarcasm) person in your life that was able to bail you out every single time you managed to wound up in this situation without fail, you probably would have been sentenced to over ten years in prison and forced to rot in here for the rest of your sad, pathetic life. You were far too beautiful for that. You frowned when you realised that the officer was having none of it, his expression as hard as the concrete floor beneath your feet.

"That pretty face may sway everyone else," the officer leaned down to whisper in your ear, causing an involuntarily shiver to dance down your spine. "But it isn't going to sway me, Miss [L/N]. I know who you are. I know what you've done."

You sighed.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration. You had always relied on your looks to get you out of a sticky situation, but this officer seemed immune to your charms. What happened to the nice old man who would unshackle you the very moment he saw the tiniest bit of cleavage the last few times you'd had a run in with the feds? You searched your brain for something to say, something that would make him change his mind. It seemed like wishful thinking at this point. He removed your handcuffs, only allowing your hands to momentarily be set free, before he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke in a low voice, "any last words, piekna?"

"You just called me beautiful in Polish," your lips curled sensuously once you'd managed to translate what he had just said, like the tendrils of smoke rising from a smouldering fire. "I knew you were into me, officer. Now...let's just skip to the part where you let me go? I promise I'll be good from now on."

Conundrum | Ranpo Edogawa ✓Where stories live. Discover now