"You're insufferable."
"Maybe," he says softly, "but you still can't keep your eyes off me."
"Maybe I don't want to."
♥___________♥
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢
Playboy, arrogant, and egoistic-sounds like a typical jerk, right? But there's more to Marco th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Ms. Collins, how are you?" James asked as we stepped into Olivia's office.
Olivia Collins looked up from her desk, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. She quickly composed herself, offering a polite smile. "Detective Carter, it's been a while. I'm doing well, thank you. And you?"
"I'm fine, thank you," James replied, nodding towards me. "This is Marco. We're here to ask you a few questions about Vincent."
Her smile faltered for a split second before she nodded. "Of course. Please, have a seat." She gestured to the chairs in front of her desk.
I sat down, trying to hide my nervousness. James, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease, his posture relaxed yet attentive.
"Ms. Collins," I began, "we understand that you worked closely with Vincent. We're hoping you can help us. Did you see any unusual behavior recently?"
Olivia sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Vincent was always very private about his personal life, but he did seem more stressed than usual these past few weeks. I could tell something was bothering him."
"Did he mention anyone specific?" James asked, his tone gentle but probing.
"Actually—I don't know if I should say this." Olivia hesitated, glancing around.
James leaned forward, his expression encouraging, "Anything you can share with us might be crucial, Ms. Collins."
She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself. "Once, he asked me to get him some coffee, and when I delivered it, I saw a note on his desk. It seemed threatening." Olivia's voice trembled slightly.
James leaned forward, his expression intent. "Did you read what the note said?"
"No, I didn't. But there was something written in red ink on the envelope," she replied.
My heart pounded in my chest. "Did he mention who he thought the note was from?"
"No, he didn't say anything. But he seemed rattled," Olivia admitted, her gaze dropping to her hands.
"Thank you, Ms. Collins. That's very helpful," James said, his tone gentle. "We'll be in touch."
As we left Olivia's office, James turned to me, "Where to next?"
"The crime scene?" I ask and he nods.
"Okay. Let's go."
***
We step over the tape, James confidently flashing his badge to the officers passing around the scene.
Yeah, flash those muscl-
No. What am I doing?
While I was busy ogling him, he had already gone to the forensics team and gotten me a file. "According to the lab techs and forensics, he was stabbed around five times in the heart, but," James paused, flipping through the pages, "there are some inconsistencies in the wounds."
"Inconsistencies?" I asked, trying to focus on the information and not his muscles.
"Yes," James continued, "The depth and angle of the stabs vary significantly, suggesting that the attacker was untrained and panicking."
I nodded, "Couldn't it be that there was more than one person involved?"
James shook his head. "Can't be. Someone would have noticed. Besides, the nature of the wounds suggests a single, attacker. It doesn't fit the profile of a more than one person."
I sighed, "What about the murder weapon?"
James looked grim. "The weapon is missing. Forensics believe it was a serrated kitchen knife. Finding it is crucial."
After spending a few more minutes examining the area, James and I decided it was time to head home. The day had been long and mentally exhausting, but I was determined to document everything and try to make sense of it all.
***
When I got home, I headed straight to my room, threw my backpack onto the bed, and sat down at my desk. I opened my laptop and began typing
--
Entry #3
Detective Ethan Blake stood over the crime scene, the yellow tape fluttering in the wind. The room was a mess, signs of a struggle evident everywhere.
"Five stab wounds to the heart," Ethan muttered.
His partner, Samuel, approached, holding a file. "According to forensics, it was a serrated knife, likely a kitchen knife."
Ethan's brow furrowed. "Missing weapon complicates things. The killer either took it or disposed of it nearby."
"Or hid it somewhere it wouldn't be found easily," Samuel added. "We need to find that weapon."
Ethan nodded, "We'll find it. It's our best chance to uncover the truth."
