"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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Eleanor Romano was already seated in the chair across from my desk when Marco and I entered. Her dark dress was tailored to perfection, her jewelry understated yet tasteful. Her eyes were just red enough to suggest tears, but the way she held herself—shoulders back, chin up—told a different story. It all felt curated, like she had rehearsed this role.
"Mrs. Romano," I said as I took my seat. Marco plopped into the chair beside me, letting out a sigh that was louder than necessary. I shot him a look before continuing, "To what do we owe the visit today?"
Eleanor adjusted the cuff of her sleeve, her movements precise. "I wanted to check on the progress of the investigation. It's been over a week, and I feel like I'm being kept in the dark."
Marco snorted. "A week? It's been eight days. Relax."
Eleanor's head snapped in his direction, her expression icy. "Excuse me?"
I cleared my throat, cutting in before Marco could escalate things. "We understand this has been a difficult time for you, Mrs. Romano. These investigations take time, but I assure you, we're making progress."
Her gaze flicked back to me, though her lips remained pressed in a thin line. "Progress? And what does that mean, exactly? Do you have suspects? Leads?"
Marco leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Depends. Do you?"
Her expression didn't falter, but her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I'm not sure what you're insinuating, Detective..."
"Insinuating?" Marco said, feigning innocence. "I was just asking a question."
I could feel the tension mounting between them, so I intervened. "Mrs. Romano," I said, keeping my voice calm, "we'd like to ask you a few more questions, if you don't mind."
She tilted her head, her composure perfectly intact. "Of course. I want to do whatever I can to help."
I opened the folder on my desk and glanced over the notes. "You've mentioned before that your marriage was complicated. Would you say you trusted your husband?"
Her jaw tightened ever so slightly, but she didn't hesitate. "As much as any wife trusts her husband."
Marco let out a low whistle. "So, not much, then?"
Eleanor turned to him, her expression frosty. "Is your partner always this charming, Detective Reid?"
I ignored the jab. "You said your marriage was complicated. Could you elaborate on that?"
She smoothed her dress, the movement deliberate. "Vincent had his... flaws. He could be difficult, stubborn, even cruel at times. But we stayed together for the sake of appearances."
"And for the money," Marco muttered under his breath.
