Page 44 of The Billionaire and His Forever

“We read her the Miranda when we arrested her,” Krohl says. “So technically—”

“Spare me the bullshit, Frank. I need to speak to my client.Privately,” Bowen seethes.

Krohl doesn’t look happy. “Look, we just have a few more questions to ask and then you two can talk all you need. You’re here now, so she’s got her counsel.”

“She’s entitled to her time,” Bowen says. “Don’t cross me on this. You and I both know you’re already in deep shit for the way you handled the Ratliff interrogation.”

“Fine.” Detective Hernandez sighs heavily and stands, Krohl following behind her. “Knock on the door when you’re ready. You know the drill.”

“That I do.” Bowen nods and turns her attention to her briefcase.

I stare as the two detectives get up and walk out. So this is the infamous Elise Bowen. The same Elise Bowen who left Graham to rot in jail because she was out of the country.

“You must be Bow,” I say, keeping my voice neutral.

I may not be happy with her recent mishandling of Graham’s case, but I’m still half scared to death being handcuffed in a chair here myself, and I’m relieved that Bowen showed up when she did. It’s hard not to feel grateful when an avenging angel of law comes storming into an interrogation room with their briefcase ablaze.

She nods. “Pleasure to meet you and all the usual shit. Don’t tell me anything right now. They’ll be watching the room. CCTV, audio bugs, the usual.”

“I didn’t do it. What the hell is even going on?” It comes out more aggressively than I planned, and I find myself relishing the anger that comes with it. “Nobody is telling me anything, and I have no idea why I got dragged back here. I have nothing to hide.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.” Bowen gives me a curt nod, but then her expression softens. “Look. The fact of the matter is, Natasha woke from her coma this morning and she’s saying you’re the one who drugged her. Her nurse has been talking to the press.”

My heart drops. “What?” I choke out. “How could she say—that’s not true!”

“It doesn’t matter. The police have no real credible evidence. All they have are Natasha’s accusations and media gossip. It won’t hold up in court. That said, you are not to utter awordabout anything related to this case unless I am present. Do you understand?”

I nod, to show her I’m serious about keeping my mouth shut. I’m still reeling from the revelation that Natasha recovered, and that she’s accusing me of attempted murder and trying to ruin my life. Because, what? Because her ex-husband was interested in me? She didn’t even want him, she just wanted his money and all the attendant comforts it could provide her.Even Jude, her own child, was merely a pawn in her game—something she could take and lord over Graham just to make him suffer more.

But what if Bow is wrong? What if her word is enough to sway a judge and jury? What if I end up locked up?

The lawyer interrupts my spiraling with a brief touch to my shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. Chin up.”

She knocks on the door and the detectives come back in almost immediately, making it obvious that they were trying to eavesdrop in the hallway. They share a look with Bowen before taking their seats. It’s like some sort of dance and I’m not privy to the steps.

“You know you don’t have anything solid enough to keep her here,” Bowen says. “There’s no evidence, not even circumstantial.”

“We have a witness statement.”

“From Mrs. Ratliff?” Bowen shoots them a look. “We all know that’s horseshit. Especially given that your witness just came out of acoma, ergo her mental acuity cannot possibly be relied upon at present. Did you not bother researching the case studies regarding patient confusion and agitation after waking from a coma? No? What about the statistically significant prevalence of disorientation and paranoia? No? Hallucinations, delusions, is any of this ringing a bell? No? Pity. You’re going to have a hell of a time making any of this stick.”

Krohl and Hernandez just sit there staring at Bowen as she delivers her verbal lashing, the detectives’ brows lowered, the tension in the room thickening. Not going to lie, I’m impressed. Bowen doesn’t just talk the talk.

“I’ll just need you to remove those handcuffs, now,” she finishes with a smile. “My client is going home.”

The detectives exchange a glance, and it’s obvious that Bowen has won this round.Yes.

But as Detective Krohl unlocks my cuffs, he says, “Don’t leave New York City. Your name is far from cleared.”

Chapter Nineteen

Abbie

The secondI slide into the back seat of the private car is the second my body chooses to release the dam of tears I’ve been holding back for hours.

I bury my face in my hands, wrists throbbing where the cold steel once rubbed. They didn’t cuff me too tight but the very feel of it burned, leaving marks across my skin. All I can do is hide my face as I sob, hiccups wracking my diaphragm. I’m a mess and I know it; makeup running, hair a mess, eyes puffy and red. I probably look like a horror show in my dress.

Of course I’m relieved to be free, but I’m equally terrified that I’ll end up back in police custody quicker than I can blink. I don’t feel safe. I’m still on the brink of losing everything.

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