Paragon

Chapter 31

"I'm sorry... what? I'm not- D-dead? No." I get out, flustered, feeling my body numb.

"Yes, ma'am... an overdose. We have reason to believe it was a suicide, ma'am."

"Iris..." Stellan whispers regretfully, letting go of my hand to try and reach for my face. The chair screeches back as I stand, moving to the window.

I realize, despite the uncertainties, despite the betrayals, I still felt Viktor was my family. He always has been my family. I feel the grief hit me as if he were my family.

"I'm truly sorry, ma'am."

"What did he overdose on?" I hear Stellan ask in a low, controlled voice.

"Oxycodone. There was remnants of heroin in his apartment as well."

"He has never done heroin," I whisper detachedly, staring out the window.

"His arm was- there is evidence on him to suggest he has been doing this for a while, ma'am."

"Do you think it was an accident?" Stellan asks.

"He took the entire pill bottle. Also, his apartment was head-to-toe covered with articles, pictures, messages, little pieces of handwriting from Mrs. Reid. He even had clothing articles hung on the wall- like a spread sheet, so no, I don't believe it was an accident."

I turn, eyes wide in horror. "What?"

Officer Hale crosses his hands in front of his body and sighs. "In my career, I've only seen one other case such as this one. From what I've collected so far, he had an obsession with you. He idolized you... Nothing was hateful or sexualized. It almost looked- like a shrine."

Stellan was right. Of course he was right.

"However, there was nothing of your husband on the walls which leads to me suspect that he probably did not warm to you?"

"We have had our difficulties, yes," Stellan agrees softly.

"Are you positive there were other men, Mr. Reid? Are you sure he didn't do this to you? It's common in cases like this for one to lash out at anyone who is close to their- um, admirer."

I have to look away. The only image replaying over and over in my head is one of Viktor and I, in France, at dinner after lounging on the beach all day. We had ditched our parties and decided to have a night out together. His smile was so bright, so electrifying. It could make even the saddest, most bitter person crack one within moments.

We laughed- oh, we laughed so much. I smile softly to myself, closing my tear-filled eyes in unutterable pain. Right now, the hate I felt the past few days is not there. I feel as if someone has grabbed a tiny needle and begun scrapping it into my chest, trying to find their way to my heart, to crush it, to break it.

Stellan and the man talk behind me, but their speech is blurred to my ears. I don't make out anything.

I stay in that restaurant with that gorgeous, healthy human being with the perfect smile. My best friend. My rock, at that time. The person who knew every piece of me, good and bad and accepted it. I stay with him and let this nightmare slip away with the voices behind me.

"I don't know if I'm ready for an endeavor like that," I exclaim happily, shaking my head as I lift the glass of champagne to my rosy lips.

"Listen to me, baby, you're booming. Every designer, every business in the world wants you to be the picture girl for their company. You've done over 150 shoots this year alone. You're already racking up millions, Iris. You've always talked about designing... Why the hell wouldn't you go for it?"