Chapter 850 - 48 Hours to Prove Innocence

Just as I was about to pull Marina back into my arms for another round—her lips already parting in anticipation, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my chest—the sharp wail of a siren pierced the air.

The sound was jarring, unnatural, cutting through the heavy silence of the room like a knife. Marina’s eyes flickered with annoyance, but she didn’t hesitate. She slid off my lap with a fluid grace, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure.

"Looks like someone’s eager to ruin our fun," she murmured, her voice laced with amusement rather than concern. She reached for her dress, the fabric slipping over her curves like a second skin. "Get dressed, Jack. We wouldn’t want to keep them waiting."

I didn’t argue. The urgency in the siren’s cry was unmistakable, and the last thing I needed was to give anyone—especially the law—a reason to linger. I pulled on my clothes quickly, my mind already racing through the possibilities.

Marina watched me with a smirk, her fingers deftly buttoning her blouse. "You look guilty already," she teased, her eyes gleaming. "Did you forget to tell me something?"

Before I could respond, a sharp knock echoed through the house. Marina’s grandmother, still asleep in her room, didn’t stir, but the sound of footsteps approached the door.

Eva and Ema exchanged glances before Ema reached for the doorknob. The moment the door swung open, the energy in the room shifted.

Standing on the threshold was a woman—tall, imposing, with an aura of authority that seemed to radiate off her like heat.

She wore a tailored black jacket over a crisp white shirt, the fabric hugging her frame in a way that suggested both power and precision. Her trousers were equally sharp, tucked into polished boots that clicked against the floor as she stepped inside. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and her eyes—cold, calculating—locked onto me instantly.

"Mr. Jack Reynolds," she said, her voice smooth but edged with steel. "I’m Jayden James. I’m currently investigating a case, and we’d like you to come with us... for interrogation." She tilted her head slightly, her gaze never wavering. "I guess you already know what this is about?"

I held her stare, refusing to let her see even a flicker of unease. A slow smile curled my lips as I nodded. "Okay."

Marina didn’t flinch. She leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, but she seemed utterly unfazed. Jayden’s eyes flicked to her for a brief moment, as if assessing her reaction, before returning to me.

I turned to Marina, my voice low but steady. "Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon."

She raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. "I know."

Jayden didn’t wait. She stepped aside, gesturing toward the door with a practiced ease. "After you, Mr. Reynolds."

I followed her out, the cool night air hitting my face as we stepped onto the porch. Two uniformed officers stood by a marked police car, their expressions unreadable, but Jayden dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

"I’ll take it from here," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She led me to a sleek, unmarked sedan parked at the curb, the engine already purring softly.

As she opened the passenger door for me, her voice dropped to a whisper, just loud enough for me to hear. "You’re either very confident, Mr. Reynolds... or very stupid." She paused, her eyes locking onto mine. "I’m hoping it’s the former."

I slid into the seat, the leather cool beneath me. Jayden shut the door with a quiet click before rounding the car and slipping into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life, and we pulled away from the curb, the house—and Marina—fading into the distance behind us.

The car’s interior was immaculate, the scent of leather and something faintly floral—Jayden’s perfume, perhaps—filling the space. She didn’t speak immediately, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel as she navigated the empty streets. The silence was heavy, charged with unspoken questions.

Finally, she glanced at me, her expression unreadable. "You don’t seem surprised to see me."

I leaned back in my seat, my voice calm. "Should I be?"

She smirked, but there was no warmth in it. "Most men in your position would be sweating by now."

"Most men aren’t me."

Jayden’s smirk deepened, but her eyes remained sharp, assessing. "No," she agreed, "they’re not." She turned her focus back to the road, the streetlights casting shifting shadows across her face, her fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel. "Let’s see how long that confidence lasts."

I leaned back, my voice steady, unshaken. "Officer Jayden, I’m innocent until proven guilty."

Jayden let out a low, humorless chuckle, her gaze flicking to me for a split second before returning to the road. "Innocent?" she echoed, her tone dripping with skepticism. "That’s not what the files suggest, Mr. Reynolds."

I didn’t miss a beat. "Files can suggest anything. But unless you have evidence, they’re just paper and speculation." I crossed my arms, my voice calm but firm. "If you had something concrete, you wouldn’t need to bring me in for interrogation. You’d arrest me on the spot."

Jayden’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Hmph. But we can still keep you for interrogation for 48 hours," she said, her voice smooth, almost casual, as if she were discussing the weather.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Do you really think that’s possible?"

Her grip on the wheel tightened, just for a moment, before she forced her expression back into that infuriatingly composed mask. "The law says it is."

"The law also says you need reasonable suspicion to hold me," I countered, my eyes locked onto her profile. "And unless you’ve got more than just a hunch and a stack of files, I’ll be walking out of that station in less than an hour."

Jayden didn’t respond immediately. The car hummed beneath us, the silence stretching between us like a taut wire. Then, slowly, she turned her head, her dark eyes meeting mine with an intensity that bordered on predatory. "You’re awfully sure of yourself, Mr. Reynolds. Almost like you’ve done this before."

I held her gaze, unblinking. "I’m sure of the law, Officer. And I’m sure of my rights."