"So, you're telling me that three men walked in, shot all the cameras, and then a fourth man came in, killed them, and just walked out?"

"Yep." I lied through my teeth, taking a deliberate bite of the apple in my hand, savoring its sweetness as I leaned against the shattered door frame of my boutique. The glass had been pulverized into jagged pieces, a stark reflection of the devastation inside.

Detective Alex wasn't buying it, though. He was a seasoned professional, not some rookie, and I could see the skepticism in his eyes. But I'd spent the last two hours weaving this fabricated story, and honestly, it was easier than telling him the truth—that my so-called boyfriend was a mafia prince, and the previous night's events had been nothing short of a blood-soaked war zone.

"And where were you during all this?" he asked, scribbling furiously on his notepad while his associates took photos of the carnage. Conrad's bloody handprint from last night was a twisted, grotesque piece of evidence. They were attempting to piece it together, but with the technology they had, it wouldn't be too difficult.

Conrad and his men had cleared out of my house just hours before, and I'd been summoned here after the crime scene had already been... handled. The bodies were gone, but the mess? That was another story. Blood was splattered on the walls in grotesque patterns, like abstract art—but I knew it was anything but.

I had completely forgotten about Leah and Pattie until they arrived early for work. They'd walked in, seen the devastation, and assumed the worst—that I'd been killed. If not for them, Alex might never have found me. But now that the cat was out of the bag, I had no choice but to stick with my lie.

"The workshop," I said casually, gesturing toward the back. "I saw everything through a crack in the door." Another bite of the apple, a shrug of indifference, as Alex stared me down, trying to break me.

The truth? I wasn't just a bystander. I had felt the rush of the gun in my hand last night. It had been two years since I'd held one, and that adrenaline surge had been... intoxicating. But then, seeing Conrad bleeding out on the floor, I'd nearly lost my mind. The thought of losing him—just the thought—was enough to shake me to my core. Last night had been a wake-up call. I'd realized just how deeply I had become entangled with him.

Our conversation had been tense, fraught with accusations and a sense of betrayal. He felt like I had broken his trust, and in some ways, I had. But it had been necessary—there were things I couldn't say before. Things I hadn't had the chance to explain, until now, when the timing was all wrong. I had hoped he wouldn't see me as a threat, but that's exactly what I had become. And the question that kept gnawing at me was simple: Would he come back to me?

"And the bodies? They just vanished into thin air?" Alex pressed on, clearly unwilling to buy my story.

I shook my head, playing along. "I think they were in a gang or something. Some people came, dragged them away, and I went back once they were gone."

Alex was growing frustrated, his patience wearing thin. "You seem awfully calm for someone who just witnessed murder and lost their business. Judging by the state of your property, it wasn't a clean job."

I shrugged. "Guess I'm just thick-skinned. Been that way since I was a kid. Never cried when my chicken died, not once."

He shot me a fiery look, but I could tell he wasn't going to push me any further. He knew, deep down, I wasn't going to press charges. I didn't want the attention, the insurance money, or any of the fallout that would come with it. My father would never allow it.

"Why didn't you call the cops?"

"I was scared they would kill me if I did." Another bite.

"Ms. Lane," he growled, "do you think I'm a fool to believe this cock-and-bull story of yours?" He threw his pen down with a frustrated grunt, but before he could continue, a new voice cut through the tension.

"That's enough, Detective."

The voice was firm, authoritative, and sent a chill down my spine.

I froze, the bite of apple nearly getting stuck in my throat. I felt it before I saw it—his presence. He was close enough that I could feel the heat of his anger radiating off him. His shadow joined mine on the cracked sidewalk, the early morning sun glinting off the shattered glass like diamonds, some stained with blood that looked like rubies.

My spine straightened at the sound of his voice.

"And who are you?" Alex demanded, his tone dripping with disbelief.

"Her brother. You're done questioning her." Aiden's voice was like ice. Without hesitation, he placed a hand around my arm and pulled me away from the doorway. The half-eaten apple slipped from my fingers and hit the ground with a soft thud as my shock overwhelmed me.

How did he find out? Did my father know about this?

Alex fumbled, stumbling over his words. "You can't do that. This is an active investigation."

Aiden smirked, raising a single eyebrow. "I don't think so." His gaze raked over Alex, sizing him up. And just as Alex opened his mouth to protest, his phone rang. The tension in the air was palpable as he answered it, reluctantly nodding.

"Hello? Yes, sir. Understood. Alright, sir." He shot one last glare at us before dropping the phone and turning away.

"You're free to go, Ms. Lane. Your statement is void." His voice was tight with frustration, and he, along with his associates, retreated, fuming and defeated.

I sighed in relief, allowing myself a moment of peace before Aiden spoke again.

"Get in the car."

I barely heard him. I was still processing everything, and the last thing I needed right now was another lecture from him.

"No," I snapped, jerking my arm from his grasp and crossing my arms defiantly. "I'm not going anywhere."

His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened. "Don't test me, Thea. Get in the car."

"No." I stood my ground, meeting his gaze. This felt familiar, like the countless times we'd fought over trivial things as kids—fighting for the last piece of chocolate, daring the other to break first. But this time, there was nothing childish about it.

Aiden sighed heavily, the kind of sigh that spoke volumes of his impatience. "Too bad I wasn't asking."

Before I could react, he was lifting me off my feet, his arms effortlessly hoisting me into the air. I shrieked in surprise, slapping at his arm in a futile attempt to break free. As soon as we reached his jeep, he dropped me to the ground with a quiet thud, and I stood there, flustered, as he opened the door.

"Get in."

I glanced around the street, thankful there were no onlookers. If anyone had seen this, it would've looked like a kidnapping. But the street was blocked off, and no one seemed to care. Not even the detective.

"No." I refused to move.

Aiden's expression remained unreadable as he closed the door, his tone still cold. "Unless you want me to put an end to your little vacation, I suggest you get in the car now."

I glared at him, my anger bubbling up again, but something about his tone—the finality of it—made me begrudgingly open the door. I slammed it shut behind me, the action loud in the quiet morning air.

The AC blasted as soon as I sat down, but it did nothing to cool the heat coursing through my veins. After Aiden slid in beside me, he gave a sharp command to the driver.

"Drive."

I crossed my arms and turned my back to him, staring out the heavily tinted window, trying to process everything that had happened. But a question gnawed at me.

"Does Dad know?"

Aiden's voice came through tight and controlled. "No."

We sit in silence for a good minute before I break. "What? You're not going to talk to me know?"

"Why should I?" Aiden replied, his voice tight, the words almost spat out. I could feel the anger rolling off him, but I wasn't about to back down.

"Because I'm your sister, and I deserve to know what the hell is going on," I shot back, turning my head to face him, my arms still crossed stubbornly over my chest.

"Not everything's your business, Thea," he grumbled, the tension in his jaw obvious.

I laughed bitterly, eyes narrowing. "Oh really? Since when did I stop being your business? Since when did I stop being Dad's business?"

He shot me a look—sharp and cold. "You think I don't know what's going on with you? I know exactly what you've been up to, Thea."

My stomach clenched. He couldn't possibly know what I'd been up to—not the whole truth. There was no way he could've figured out everything. But the look in his eyes told me he knew something, something I hadn't said out loud.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded, suddenly feeling the weight of the tension shift, the question hanging heavy between us.

"You really want to play dumb right now?" Aiden's voice dropped low, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. "You really think Dad wouldn't have eyes on you? You know better than that."

I froze, my mind racing. When I'd left home, I was promised freedom—no bodyguards, no surveillance, no interference. That was the deal. Clearly, I had been lied to.

I couldn't speak for a moment. The knot in my throat grew tighter. "Who?" I finally managed to ask, my voice quiet but laced with frustration. "Who's been spying on me, Aiden?"

He didn't answer right away, his gaze focused on the road ahead. I could see the muscles in his jaw clenching, and I knew he wasn't going to give me the answer I wanted.

"Does it matter?" he asked instead, the words sharp.

"Yes, it matters!" I snapped, my frustration building. "You promised me—Dad promised me—I'd have my space. This is my life, Aiden!" I was close to losing my temper, the anger from last night bubbling up again. The betrayal of it all, the fact that my family was always one step ahead of me, always in control.

Aiden's eyes flicked to me briefly before returning to the road. "Maybe it's time you learned that the life you want isn't the life you get when you're in this family."

"Don't say that to me," I shot back, my voice thick with anger. "I'm not a kid anymore, Aiden. You don't get to tell me what my life is."

He didn't respond immediately, but I saw the tension in his shoulders. Aiden had always been the one to keep things under control, to protect me when it mattered, even when I didn't want him to. But right now, it felt like he was doing the opposite.

"I'm not the enemy, Thea," he said finally, his voice low. "But you've been making some... choices lately. Dangerous ones. And I don't like seeing you get wrapped up in it all."

"Dangerous?" I scoffed. "What about the things you do, Aiden? What about Dad? You think I'm not aware of the life we live?"

Aiden's hands tightened into fists. "Don't act like you know what you're talking about. You've been living in your little bubble, pretending everything's fine while things get more complicated by the day."

I was quiet for a moment, but the frustration and pain I'd been feeling for the past few months began to spill out. "I'm not pretending everything's fine, Aiden. I've had to handle shit on my own, and I can't keep looking over my shoulder, wondering when the next time I'm going to have to make a choice between loyalty and survival."

Aiden glanced at me, his face softer for a split second before his usual hard exterior slipped back into place. "This isn't just about you anymore, Thea. You're in deeper than you realize. The things happening right now... they're going to come for all of us. You're not the only one who's caught up in a mess."

I was silent, staring out the window again, letting his words settle in. I knew what he meant—the world we lived in didn't forgive mistakes. It didn't give you second chances. Once you were in, you were in for good. And there was no way out without blood being spilled.

Aiden's voice broke through my thoughts. "I'm not doing this to control you. I'm doing this because I care about you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I'm not a child, Aiden," I snapped, but this time it came out quieter, more defeated. "I can take care of myself."

He didn't respond right away, but I could tell he was holding something back, something more than just worry. Finally, he sighed.

"I know you can. But sometimes, Thea... sometimes the things we think we can control end up controlling us instead."

I didn't have an answer to that. I wanted to argue, to prove that I wasn't like him, that I wasn't caught up in the mess he thinks I'm in. But deep down, I knew he was right. And that thought terrified me.

"Leah," he said flatly out of the blue.

I blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Leah told me."

"No," I muttered, disbelief creeping into my voice. "She wouldn't..."

Aiden's gaze was unwavering. "She's my girlfriend."

As we drove on, the silence between us grew heavier. One thing was clear: this fight wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

END OF CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: THE APPLE
2367 words

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