Shonee's POV

Later in the evening...

Finally putting Mirasol to sleep—she wouldn't stop blabbing about the fun day she had—I quietly tiptoed out of her bedroom and shut the door.

It was a little past nine pm. After this afternoon's incident, things have been quite slow and peaceful, thankfully. Not only did Nancy storm out of the patio, she stormed out of the house too without telling her mum where she was headed. Mrs. Denver spent like an hour taking care of Ben, trying to distract herself, until she also got fed up and took off with her grandson, of course. Nancy had practically instructed her not to leave Ben anywhere near me. She was probably scared I might steal him like I stole Mirasol from her.

The thought had me giggling.

Despite coming home during dinner, Vincent had spent the entire time holed up in his home office and it made me wonder what was up. On the days he arrived home early from work, he made the effort to at least interact with Mirasol and find out how her day went, but today he didn't even make the attempt and the observation had me strolling up to his office.

I gave the door a tentative knock before pushing it open. "Vincent?"

He looked up briefly from his desk which was currently loaded. "Shonee, hey. Come, come on in." He urged. "Sorry I missed dinner. I've just got a lot on my plate right now."

"Oh I can see that." I sauntered over to him with a playful smile.

He grinned in return, eyes softening as I reached his side. I leaned down and gave him a soft and silky kiss on the lips, lingering just a bit longer than usual. He responded instantly, wrapping his hand around my waist and pulling me onto his lap.

"Mmm, I missed you," he murmured against my lips.

I brushed my fingers through his hair, smirking. "Missed you more. Why don't we head up to my room? I could help you really relax."

A spark of mischief lit in his eyes, but he chuckled, shaking his head. "As much as I'd love to take you up on that, I probably shouldn't right now."

I groaned in disappointment. "Argh, but what's got you so occupied?"

Vincent let out a long sigh, his arm tightening slightly around me. "It's the Paynes. Richard isn't backing down from that ridiculous compensation proposal his lawyers came up with. It's been a mess trying to negotiate, and if we don't get him off our backs soon, this could hurt the business at Beckham Incorporated."

"Why don't you ask your dad for help?" I asked. "I know he's retired, but he's still got all that experience and influence."

Vincent gave a weary smile. "Yeah, but there's only so much he can do without being too involved, and I can't keep pulling him back into these messes."

His phone vibrated with a series of messages and he stretched over to pick it up.

I gave his shoulder a squeeze before slipping off his lap and casually scanning the items scattered across his huge desk. A particularly thick binder caught my eye. I lifted it, eyebrows raised. "What's this? It's huge."

Vincent looked up from his phone and grimaced, running a hand over his face. "Another hurdle to jump over. That's from the Michael case. It's one complication after another."

"Oh." I put it back down. With all the Nancy drama going on, I'd completely forgotten that Michael's death was still being investigated. "Anything new?"

"Yeah. The police did some digging and discovered that he was using an alias, Sam Reynolds."

"Sam Reynolds?" My eyebrows dipped low.

"Yeah. He had huge sums of money in several bank accounts with that name. The majority of them the police managed to trace to illegal transactions from the black market, shady crypto deals..."

Sam Reynolds... I tuned Vincent out. For some strange reason, the name sounded very familiar, like I'd heard it not too long ago. But I couldn't for the life of me figure out where.

"Ah crap, Nancy's at it again." Vincent huffed and glared at his phone. "Spending my money on her dumbass shopping sprees. I should've taken my black card from her ages ago."

Nancy...All of a sudden, it hit me. "That's it!"

Vincent looked up, confused. "What's it?"

"The stuff the police dug up on Sam Reynold." I drew closer to him. "Was there any mention of a house on Boulevard Street?"

"Not really." Vincent set his phone down on the desk. "It was mostly about his transactions. Things he bought and sold on the black market. But why are you asking that question, anyway?"

"A couple of days ago, Jordin and I went shopping on Boulevard Street and we saw Nancy there, checking out a house. It looked like she was interested in buying it or something. So after she left, I tried talking to the real estate agent about it. He didn't say much, but I remember he said that the house previously belonged to a Sam Reynolds."

"And you think it could be the same alias?"

"Possibly."

"Hmm." Vincent's eyebrows dipped low like he was trying to figure something out. "You're sure this house was on Boulevard Street?"

"A hundred percent." I crossed my arms.

Then he pushed his chair back and yanked the bottom drawer of his desk open, rifled through it before taking out a white folder.

"Remembered something?"

"Yeah. The house I bought for Michael when he was blackmailing me." The papers rustled violently as he leafed through until he abruptly stopped. "I knew it." He put the folder down and tapped on an address. "It was on Boulevard Street too."

My eyebrows flew up. "It could be the same house. Michael probably had the agency change the ownership details to his alias."

Vincent's gaze sharpened and his fingers rapped against the desk. "We need to check this place out tomorrow." He reached for his phone.

"Great. At what time?" I perked up.

He looked at me strangely. "Not with you, I meant with the cops. This case is taking on a new and dangerous turn, and the last thing I want is you involved in it."

And just like that all, my enthusiasm fizzled away.

"Are you kidding me right now, Vincent? I'm already involved!" I countered. "Did you forget how we both found Michael in that pool of blood outside? Seriously, you can't take me out of this. This is my lead on the case and I want to see it through."

"And I can't risk that!" He frowned, moving towards the floor-to-ceiling-windows. "You've done very well remembering this incident, but I can't let you push further into this."

My nostrils flared. "I'm not a fucking damsel in distress! You can't play the protection card here!"

"My mind is made up, Shonee." The expression he sent my way was stern and defiant. "And nothing you say will change it."

I sucked in a deep breath, trying so hard to keep my emotions in check. "Fine! You do what you want, and I'll do what I want!" I snapped, throwing my hands up in frustration before turning to the door. "After all, this isn't the first time you've tried to keep me out of something and I still went ahead anyway."

That last sentence was shrouded in a mumble, but Vincent must've heard it loud and clear because his next utterance was: "Wait."

I stopped but didn't turn around. If he says something about protection, I swear to God, I'll—

"Alright," Vincent let out a sigh. "You can come along," he reluctantly added. "But promise me you'll let me handle things if they get tense."

I turned back, giving him a tight smile. "Deal."

*****

The next day...

The car came to a stop along the street and I turned to Vincent. "Is this the address in your documents?"

"Yeah." He nodded then let himself out.

My door flew open thanks to the driver and I stepped out, coming face to face with the gates of the elegant six-bedroom structure.

"Well?" Vincent appeared at my side.

"It's the exact same house Nancy wanted to buy." I told him and he pressed his lips together.

"When we get home, remind me to ask her why she was interested in this place."

Just then, a black Toyota Corolla pulled up right in front of Vincent's BMW, and it wasn't long before Detective Wiley came out from the driver's side. The front door on the other side of the car opened and my eyebrows immediately descended into a frown.

The tall gentleman who was with Nancy that day stepped out of the vehicle, adjusting his jacket. What the heck was he doing here? Did Nancy send him?

The two men approached us and we exchanged greetings with the detective before he introduced us to his companion. "This here is Detective Ruben Arimo."

The tall man gave us a friendly salute, though I eyed him warily.

"He'll be assisting me with the case going forward."

"What about Detective Sarah Chen?" I questioned.

"She's indisposed," Ruben replied in a tone that basically bordered on indifference, and I would be lying if I said it didn't make me more suspicious of him.

"Yes." Detective Wiley's expression grew solemn. "Unfortunately, Sarah was involved in a very fatal car accident. She's doing well now, thankfully. But we had to take her off the case."

My gaze narrowed, lingering on Detective Ruben. His calm response to Detective Chen's accident felt... off.

That's because you're reading too much into it, my subconscious commented.

But still...I bit my bottom lip in thought.

"So," Detective Wiley began, glancing between Vincent and me. "I understand you've connected this house to the investigation. How exactly did you come across it?"

Vincent gestured toward me. "Actually, it was Shonee who made the connection. A few days ago, she noticed my wife, Nancy, making inquiries about this property and she decided to follow-up."

Detective Ruben's head snapped up, his expression sharpening. "Wait, she was here?"

"Yeah, right across the street." I folded my arms, and Ruben held my stare with an unreadable expression. "Do you have a problem, detective?"

He blinked, seeming taken aback. "Uh no, no," he replied, but his gaze lingered on me a little too long with a strange glint in his eye. "Just... surprised."

When Ruben arrived, I was 50% suspicious of him. But now, that number had risen to a full-blown 90. Seriously, there was something... ominous about this guy and his sudden involvement in the case. But I didn't get the chance to dwell on it much because Vincent spoke up.

"Detective Wiley, I thought you'd be arriving with the real estate agent? I was under the impression he'd be giving us access to the house."

He nodded slowly, scratching his chin. "Yes, that was the plan. However, when we got to the agency, we learnt that the house had already been sold to a Mrs. Melanie Stewart, who, according to immigration records, is currently out of the country. Given the new ownership, we'll need a warrant to gain access, which will also take some time to acquire."

I glanced at Vincent, catching his frown.

"So, we can't take a look inside the property?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Wiley continued. "The change in ownership has complicated things a bit. However, we did some background checks on the name Sam Reynolds linked to this property, and we can confirm that it was indeed Michael's alias. All the details and everything matched up, further tying the house to him."

Vincent and I shared a look and he nodded, brows furrowing as he continued to probe. "Any information on why he changed the details to his alias or why he even sold the house in the first place?"

"Not yet, but it's a critical lead we're looking into," Wiley said.

Meanwhile, Ruben stayed quiet—too quiet for my liking. He observed the exchange with an unreadable look. But, every now and then, his gaze flitted to me, making my skin prickle with unease.

Something was definitely off about him.

But what exactly?