A Heart in Jeopardy

Chapter 1 First impressions

The police station was colder than she expected. Sterile, almost clinical, with harsh fluorescent lights casting an unforgiving glow over the faded gray walls. The faint hum of computers and the low murmur of officers in the background buzzed like static noise, and the faint smell of stale coffee and disinfectant lingered in the air. Seraphina Ellsworth pulled her beige trench coat tighter around her as she made her way down the narrow corridor. Her heels echoed against the tiled floor a soft, steady click that contrasted sharply with the overwhelming stillness of her surroundings.

Her fingers brushed against the cool, smooth leather of her cream-colored handbag, gripping it tightly as though it could somehow steady her racing thoughts. Each step felt like a countdown to something ominous. She had been in uncomfortable situations before high-stakes meetings with fashion executives, moments of career-threatening tension during runway shows but none of that compared to this. This was different. This felt like she was walking straight into the lion's den, and all she had was her resolve to keep her standing upright.

As a fashion designer, Seraphina was always meticulous about how she presented herself, even in moments like this. Her light blue blouse was tucked neatly into her high-waisted cream trousers, and her soft brown waves of hair fell in perfect curls around her shoulders. She wore muted, neutral tones today a reflection of the calm she wanted to project. The simple gold necklace around her neck gleamed subtly in the harsh light, and the matching gold bracelet on her wrist chimed softly with each movement of her arm. Even her accessories spoke of quiet elegance, but inside, she was anything but calm.

Ahead of her was the interrogation room a windowless box with a plain metal door. She had seen it in countless crime shows, but reality had a different weight to it. The door itself seemed heavier, more final. It didn't just symbolize an opportunity for the truth to come out; it felt like a point of no return.

She paused, standing just outside the door for a moment, staring at the dull silver handle as if it might bite her if she touched it. The faint voices from the bullpen behind her seemed distant, as if she were already detached from the rest of the world. Taking a breath, Seraphina smoothed her blouse and adjusted her handbag one last time. Her pulse hammered against her ribcage, but her outward composure was flawless. She had to be. She couldn't afford to look guilty.

She turned the handle and stepped inside.

The room was as nondescript as she had expected. White walls, a gray concrete floor, and a metal table in the center, flanked by two chairs. A fluorescent light buzzed overhead, casting a stark, unforgiving light on everything beneath it. The air felt colder here, sharper, like the room itself was devoid of warmth, just as the man sitting across from the table appeared to be.

He didn't look up immediately when she entered. Instead, his attention was focused on a folder in front of him, the papers neatly arranged in a way that suggested he had been going over them meticulously before her arrival. His black hair was slicked back, perfectly groomed, not a strand out of place. The sharp lines of his jaw and the precision of his black suit made him look as if he'd been sculpted from granite. His white dress shirt was crisp, and the slim black tie knotted at his neck was flawless. Everything about him screamed professionalism, precision, and something else something cold, unyielding.

Seraphina stood frozen for a moment, feeling the weight of his presence even though he hadn't looked up yet. She could feel the judgment in the air, thick and palpable. He was the type of man who didn't need to speak to assert control over a situation. His very existence was enough.

He finally lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting hers with a cold, calculating intensity that made her stomach tighten. His eyes deep, slate gray seemed to bore into her, as if he was already dissecting her, peeling back layers of her soul. They weren't just gray; there was something almost metallic about them, sharp and impenetrable, like steel. He didn't say anything for a moment, letting the silence stretch until it was uncomfortable.