"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...
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I sat across from Elias King. He looked every bit the devil in a tailored suit—calm and composed. His dark hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place, and his eyes gleamed.
James was standing, his hands resting on the table as he leaned forward, eyes locked on Elias. "We have a statement from Enzo Rossi," James began, "He links you directly to Mayor Romano's money laundering operations."
Elias leaned back casually, a small, taunting smile playing on his lips. "So, you're basing this interrogation on the word of a man who's accused of murdering the mayor?" He chuckled softly, the sound low and mocking.
I leaned forward, locking eyes with Elias. "It hasn't been proved, nor is he in jail, so I'd be careful how you speak about my father, King."
Elias's smile widened, just a fraction. "Touchy, aren't we? But let's be honest, Marco—how much of this is about justice, and how much is about trying to clear Daddy's name?"
James shot me a look, a silent warning to keep my cool, but I couldn't let Elias get under my skin. Not now.
"This isn't about my father," I said, my voice steady. "This is about you, Elias. We know you were involved with Romano, and if you're smart, you'll start talking."
Elias tilted his head, considering my words, "You think you have me cornered, don't you? But all you have is the word of a desperate man trying to save himself. You'll need a lot more than that to make anything stick."
James leaned in closer, "We'll see about that. We will find something—a tiny inconsistency in your fucking story—and then I'll send you to jail for the rest of your life."
Elias didn't even flinch. His lips curved into a slow, infuriating smile. "Is that so, Detective? I'll be sure to sleep with one eye open." He straightened his jacket again, calm and collected, before adding, "If you ever manage to find anything substantial, feel free to give me a call." He straightened his suit jacket, gave us both a nod, and turned to leave.
Son of a bitch.
***
James and I stepped out of the precinct into the pouring rain, the cool droplets immediately soaking through my jacket. The storm was relentless, but after that interrogation with Elias, I needed the fresh air to clear my head. James walked beside me, his usual scowl on his face.
"I can't believe that smug bastard," James muttered, adjusting his collar as he glared at the sidewalk in front of us.
"Yeah, he's good at getting under people's skin," I replied.
We turned a corner, the rain puddling around our feet, and as we passed by a grimy dumpster, I heard a faint sound. At first, I thought it was just the rain bouncing off the metal, but then it came again—a small whimper.
I stopped. "Did you hear that?"
James, already a few steps ahead, paused and looked back at me. "Hear what?"
"There it is again," I said, moving closer to the dumpster. I crouched down and peered behind it, and sure enough, there was a tiny kitten huddled up in the corner, drenched and shivering.
"You've got to be kidding me," James groaned. "Of all the things..."
I scooped the kitten up carefully, holding it close to my chest. It meowed softly, its small body trembling. "Poor thing. It's freezing out here."
James raised an eyebrow. "Marco, what are you doing?"
I shrugged, cradling the kitten. "I can't just leave it here. What kind of person would that make me?"
James shook his head, letting out a low groan. "My fucking God."
I grinned, holding the kitten closer. "You act all tough, but I know deep down, you're a softie."
He shot me a glare. "Don't push your luck, Rossi."
The kitten meowed again, snuggling into my chest as the rain continued to pour. I gave James a look. "Come on, how can you say no to this face?"
James sighed, exasperated. "Fine, but if that thing scratches my bike, you're buying me a new one."
I smirked. "Deal."
***
When I got home, I sat down with my notebook. I flipped to a fresh sheet and began to list out what we had so far:
Elias King
Lydia Prescott - payoff
No Murder Weapon
Witness Account of a Woman: Romano's wife or mistress?
I stared at the notes, tapping my pen against the paper. Each detail leading to another potential lead. Yet, Something wasn't adding up.
I leaned back, trying to piece it all together. "What am I missing?" I muttered to myself.
I glanced at the notes once more, searching for something, a detail that might have been overlooked. Sometimes, the smallest detail could turn an investigation. My thoughts drifted to the case, to the people involved.
They were hiding something.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay patient. The truth was somewhere in these details, and I had to find it before it was too late.
