Chapter 61
Through the glass, I watched the young man fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. His previous arrogance and swagger had completely disappeared. Now, he hunched forward, his gaze refusing to meet mine.
“I want to question him myself, Henry said, his voice barely containing his controlled rage.
The police captain looked uncomfortable. “Mr. Harding, I understand your concern as a father, but civilian participation in interrogations doesn’t follow standard procedure
“I’m not asking for permission,” Henry cut him off, already moving toward the Interrogation room door.
I observed through the glass as ‘Henry entered the room. The suspect’s head snapped up, his eyes widening in recognition.
“Do you know who I am?” Henry’s voice was low and dangerous
The suspect visibly swallowed but remained silent.
“Answer me.” Henry’s palm slammed onto the metal table, making the young man flinch. “Do you know who I am?”
“Y–yes,” the suspect stammered. “You’re Henry Harding.”
“Do you know what happens to people who threaten me?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with menace. I could see the suspect’s Adam’s apple nervously bobbing up and down as he struggled to maintain composure.
“I didn’t–I mean, I wasn’t trying to-” he stumbled over his words.
Henry leaned closer. “You tried to kill my son.”
“No! I was just told to scare her!” he blurted out. His eyes darted toward the mirror, suddenly remembering I might be watching.
“Who hired you?” Henry’s question was razor–sharp.
The young man’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I can’t say. Theyll kill me.”
“James,” Henry called without turning, knowing his assistant would hear through the intercom. “Find out everything about this man. Family, friends, finances. Everything.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. Who would hate me enough to want me dead? The answer seemed obvious, but would that person really go this far?
I turned away from the window, suddenly needing fresh air. If my reflexes had been a second slower that day, Billy might be…
I need to leave,” I told the officer standing nearby.
I was halfway to the exit when Henry’s voice called out behind me.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
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I didn’t slow my pace. “Home. To see my son.”
His fingers closed around my arin, halting my progress. We’re not finished here?
I stared
red at his hand until he released me, but his expression remained unyielding. “We’re leaving together/
“Why?” I demanded, too tired to maintain politeness.
Outside, his black Rolls–Royce waited at the curb.
“To the hotel, Henry instructed.
had expected him to go directly to his company or leave me of the sidewalk. Instead, we were going to a hotel? I glanced at him, wondering what game he was playing now.
“Why are we going to a hotel?” I asked suspiciously.
“Business meeting,” Henry replied curt
Our
As we approached Midtown, something about our surroundings began to feel disturbingly familiar. The architecture, the street layout–a creeping sense of dread slowly replaced my irritation.
When James finally stopped in front of that hotel.
My pulse thundered in my ears as the massive glass and steel structure loomed ahead. Five years. It had been five years since I’d seen this place, yet the sight of it still made my blood run cold.
This building held my darkest memories, the beginning of my nightmare.
Even now, I could still remember every detail of the night I lost my innocence.
My lungs constricted, making each breath a struggle. As panic clawed its way up my throat, the world around me began to blur.
“Stop the car,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Henry, absorbed in his phone, didn’t hear me.
“Stop the car!” I repeated, louder this time, my hands gripping the leather seat until my knuckles turned white.
James glanced in the rearview mirror, alarmed by my tone. Henry finally looked up, his brow furrowing.
“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, but I could barely hear him over the rushing in my ears.
“I need to get out,” I gasped, already fumbling for the door handle. “Now!”
The car had barely come to a stop when I shoved the door open and stumbled onto the sidewalk.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think–all I knew was that I needed to get away from that building.
“Sophia!” Henry’s voice called from behind me, but I was already running, pushing past pedestrians without apolo
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ing from tal hotel, but the terrifying memories still pursund me
out to steady self against a streetlight, my legs threatening to give way
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Chapter 61
image of Sophia stumbling cross the street kept appearing in
So, what had she experienced?
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