𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞 ✔️

Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

(An hour later)

I saw my wife rubbing her temples as she was suffering panic attacks from within when she came out of that interrogation room. I noticed how Hardy was trying to tell her that he is just doing his job and how we all have to cooperate with him. 

My foot. 

I’ve lost count of how many times he has tried to frame me since the day we met each other. He’d have been successful only if he had the guts to come to me directly rather than using people. But he has to be man enough for that. Which he can't be in this life.

“Alright.” She mumbled, continuously shaking her head in some kind of acknowledgement.

They both headed in our way. Her mother avoided a conversation with me throughout the time as if I was an invisible person, and as soon as her daughter appeared, she was bombarding her with millions of questions about me. How funny, indeed.

“Mr. Wylder, please come with me.” Said the lousy officer Hardy. He didn't even wait for my reply and headed off. Good decision. I wanted a few seconds with my love. Though, it wasn't strange to see how strange she was acting. She didn't even consider to meet my eyes like she was scared or probably something has cooked between her and Hardy.

That I’ll find out inside the interrogation room.

I touched her shoulder on my way, I felt her momentarily flinch before I disappeared behind the door. Here, everything seems so familiar. When my father was alive, this was my mother's second home and the safest one. She was forced to seek shelter in the police station to save herself from the daily abuse and humiliation, yet it used to last only for a few hours until he forced her to return home and pretend to be a normal housewife.

Hardy motioned me to take a seat opposite of him, I sighed and sat down obediently, “Speak only if you have anything new to say.” I told him when I observed he was preparing himself to deal with me.

“Can you ever keep your attitude aside?” He asks, concealing the first stage of his anger.

“Never.”

He smiles, looks like it was the answer he was anticipating. Fair enough. “Are you going to confess your crimes?”

“Lack of evidence against someone isn't enough to make that person confess their crimes.” I stated. Where was I wrong? He doesn't have tough proof which he can use to drag me to jail or even court.

“Cut the crap, Damien. Half of the city knows who the murderer is. Including your wife, she admitted and is ready to become a witness.” His utterances weren't surprising. Judging the blank expression and how she chose to avoid eye contact with me out there was a little suspicious, nevertheless, I am certain she wouldn't have filled him with the details he was seeking for years.

“Okay. Good luck.” I mirrored the smile he gave me a couple of minutes ago, just the difference was his smile was concealing his anger and mine one resembles the curiously mysterious nature of mine.

“You’ll be behind the bars someday, it's for certain. But you know what…” He leans down his height against the table, “Ishita would be the one suffering all the trouble you’ll put her through. But don't worry, I’ll be there for her.” It took me a second to snatch his collar and smash his head on the table between us. It was unfortunate that his skull didn't end up in cracks and blood, but just a massive scar that will work as a reminder for ever trying to keep a bad eye on my wife.

A group of constables separated us shortly, they forced my entire body against the wall to keep me under control. “Put charges on him for hitting an officer on duty!” 
____

ISHITA

I was mentally praying that none of them would try to provoke one another. However, it seems like God didn't hear my prayers, because within a few minutes, I saw some constables dragging Damien to one of the inbuilt cells of the police station.

I immediately ran behind them, “Damien? Hardy, what's going on?” I questioned first and turned my attention to him later. As soon as I gazed at him, my jaw dropped onto the floor. He had a huge purplish kind of scar over his temple bone.

“Your husband attacked me, what else?” Hardy spat angrily, someone brought him an ice pack urgently.

I proceeded to walk toward the cell where they kept Damien temporarily, he was loudly cursing the cops around him and especially Hardy, “Damien,” He had his grip onto the iron rod, so taking it as a chance, I placed my hands over his knuckles, “Please calm down.” Other cops chose to give us a few minutes of privacy when they realized Damien won't be able to cause any more harm.

He looked down at me, sighing, “I can't.” He honestly admitted. “Don't ask anything, shout at me.” 

I had hundreds of whys in my mind as I processed his statement, but they all stopped when he squeezed my fingers real quickly, eyeing me to continue with what he was telling me to do, “Stop it, Damien! Just stop it! I am tired of your such behavior!” I yanked my hand off him.

He mouthed the word ‘accuse me of murders’ 

“Aren't you accused of committing murders! That you hit one of the officers as well?!”

“Now you also believe me that I can be a murderer?! Huh?! And your so-called officer deserved that! But wait a damn minute, why on earth are you even protecting him?! Are you in love with him or what?!” Frankly, his fake argument felt like a strong slap on my love and feelings.

Though, I continued the play, “Wow, Damien! Just wow! Now you don't even trust me, do you?! It would have been better if I had married someone else rather than you! At least, I’d not have been here!”

“You are a slut!"

I cocked a brow playfully, gladly, no one saw that and my husband winked at me real quick. Hearing the curse, Hardy stormed toward us, grabbing Damien by collar through the cell’s rod, “Don't you dare raise your voice at her! Let alone swear!” He moved to me, “He is a psychopath, Ishita, are you still going to live with him? He’ll kill you!”

I pretended to bring water to my eyes, swapping my cheeks as if I was crying, “You are right. I am sorry I didn't listen to you earlier.” While Hardy was watching me, I had an eye on Damien, he mouthed another word and before Hardy could see this was a whole ass drama, I said, “I need a divorce, I can't live with you anymore, Asshole!” 

Damien hand gestures to me to go home now and I did exactly that. I stormed out of that place but by the time I reached his car I was legit crying because all of these, even if they were fake, were too hard to register. What if he actually meant them?

Word Count- 1211