Page 63 of Prince of Control
I show them I have this under control. “Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet. We’d just like to ask you some questions down at the station.”
Fuck. Fine. The sooner I find out what they’re looking for, the better.
“All right. Let’s go.” I spread my hands.
“I’ll call Lucy,” Zoe says, meaning my mom.
“No one calls Chicago,” I order.
My mom is the best criminal defense attorney in the state, but the last thing I want is to wake her in the middle of the night with the news that the police took her son to the station for questioning. All my life, she’s tried to keep me out of the bratva business. When Lili and I got dragged into the violence as children, it rocked her marriage to my dad. They recovered, but it was part of me getting sent away to Swiss boarding school. I showed too much interest in the business.
Calling my mom will be a last resort.
I’ve got this covered. They have nothing on me; otherwise, I’d be in handcuffs with my rights being read to me.
Still, I don’t like it.
Some more of my confidence slips away when I catch sight of Lara at the top of the stairs, watching me being ushered out the door.
I stop and look up at her, heaviness descending around me like an iron prison.
Her seeing me this way feels even worse than my mom knowing. My wife should be able to trust in me to keep this kind of shit away from her. I should be able to control every situation to avoid this kind of embarrassing scene. I somehow missed something tonight, but I have no idea what.
“Let’s go,” the cop says, pulling my arm to urge me through the front door.
I glance back as I walk out, but someone shuts the door behind us, blocking the view of my wife.
At the station, I’m ushered into an interrogation room. I swear I glimpse Chancellor Ogden talking with a man in a black t-shirt and jeans in the doorway of the room next door, but they disappear before I can be sure.
I sit down at the table in the seat the detective indicates and lace my tattooed fingers. There’s a mirror positioned on the wall opposite me that must be a two-way. Which means Chancellor Ogden is watching this interview.
My stomach turns sour. Whatever this is about is important enough that the chancellor of Thornecroft University was brought in. Does this go beyond Titan House’s vendetta against us? Is it bratva related? Does it have something to do with the Rostovs?
Fuck, I need more information to problem-solve.
The detective sits on the opposite side, opens a file folder and produces a photo, which he pushes across the table. “Do you know this woman?”
I glance at the photo and adrenaline crashes through my system. The warrior in me surfaces, ready to kill or die. To battle for her safety.
Now I understand why the Chancellor would be involved.
I lift my gaze with my eyes blazing. “What happened to Melinda Tracy?”
“So you are acquainted.”
My brain tumbles down a cliff. Was she kidnapped? Murdered? I need to know so I can fix it.
I look at the two-way mirror and lift my chin in its direction. “So he’s secret service? Or secret ops?”
I hear the bang of a door, and the guy stalks in. He’s the type who wears his t-shirt two sizes too small, so it shows off the muscles on his torso. He yanks a chair up and turns it around to sit backward, like a cowboy. I imagine he thinks he’s a bad-ass.
“When was the last time you saw Ms. Tracy?” he demands.
My mom would tell me not to answer questions without an attorney present. I should call her. Or at least call the young law professor who occasionally purchases drugs from me. I’m being stupid by answering their questions, but I need to know what happened to Melinda. “Two hours ago at Baranov House. Is she missing?”
She may still be there. Maybe Anders took her to his room after they played in the dungeon. Is this just about her not returning to her dorm last night? I try to slow my pounding heart.
