"What do you mean I'm wanted at the station for questioning? I don't remember committing any crime," Christian said, trying hard to sound calm and convincing. He'd barely escaped being killed by that lucky bastard Lorenzo, only to come home and find the cops waiting.
"No, you haven't... yet, Mister Harrington," one of the officers replied, his voice calm but serious.
Christian's frown deepened.
"What do you mean yet? I'm not getting—"
"We have a warrant, sir," the younger officer with black hair said, holding up the papers. "We just need you and your fiancée to answer some simple questions. That's all for now. Please cooperate, sir."
"My fiancée?" Christian's heart skipped a beat as his mind flashed to the robbery evidence that was stolen for him. "My fiancée is not—"
At that moment, Kayla drove into the compound. Christian cursed silently.
"I guess that's your fiancée, sir. Please follow us."
Christian clenched his fists, anger boiling inside him. Fear curling in his chest.
