It's a fact that you can't help who you fall in love with. And for Rosaline Davenport and him, it definitely shouldn't have been each other.
Because, sometimes, love stories have blood on them.
[warning: this is the mother of all slow-burns]
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• it's a tough time for everyone around the world right now, so here's a little bit of joy while we're all on universal lockdown. I guess it takes a pandemic to break my resolve and dish out an update •
【 28.
Twenty-eight
Alvida 】
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[ Alvida • goodbye ]
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ROSALINE’S CHEST IS on the brink of explosion as her heart continues to pound violently, her fingers gone numb from the tight fists they’ve been clenched into ever since storming out of the station after signing the legal paperwork and hauling a taxi.
She’s so angry—livid beyond recognition—that she stalks out of the elevator once it lands on the sixth floor of the hotel and walks through the mini lounge without sparing so much as a glance at her surroundings.
Before she can charge past the L-shaped sofa that she once sat on while struggling to put on her boots, a hand takes a hold of her arm.
Rosaline jumps and spins to her side, yanking her arm away at the same instant. And then her eyes land on Garry, who looks like he’s been seated there for some time.
The surprise comes and goes in a blur; Rosaline can’t find the place to feel anything else but the all-consuming fury.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was heading straight to the precinct from home, but I got a call saying you left there, so—”
“Not here in the hotel. I meant here in this city.”
Garry’s shrewd eyes search her face for a moment. “Rosaline, are you forgetting who your father is? No way was a small-time detective taking you into questioning without his superiors immediately informing Charles about it.”
A humourless laugh erupts from her mouth. “So dad sent you here? For what?”
“He was worried, obviously.” Garry’s eyebrows furrow, like he can’t understand what’s going on. “Charles wanted to make sure they didn’t drill you excessively or—”
“Or that I’d, what, have a meltdown because of what the interrogation revealed?”
Confusion flickers in the older man’s eyes, “Rosaline, what—”
“Turns out, it runs in the Davenport blood to be made a fool out of,” Rosaline says, laughing in disbelief again. “Detective Stone’s superiors must have known about the details of the case, right? I doubt they’d have kept dad out of the loop—which is probably why he sent you all the way down here.”
