Page 7 of The Billionaire and His Forever

“Please, Graham,” Krohl says. “Just give us something we can work with. I’d really like to hear your side of things.”

“As I’ve told you, I’m done talking until my attorney is present,” I remind them.

The detectives share a look and I clench my jaw. We’re getting nowhere. This is hell.

“Don’t want to talk? Fine, then. This is how I see it.” Detective Hernandez reclines in her chair, matching her partner. “Everyone knows about your recent affair. That little PR stunt on Mrs. Ratliff’s opening night aside, which by the way fooled exactly no one, I imagine things haven’t exactly been pleasant between you two since the divorce anyhow. So. The nanny story hits all the news outlets, you look like a fucking pedophile, and she sees an opportunity. She threatens to take you to court. To take the kid away from you. That sound about right?”

Anger roils through me. How dare they bring Jude into this. And Abbie is an adult.

“Hit a nerve, have we?” Hernandez prods, eyebrow cocked.

I slide on the mask I use for all my board meetings and say nothing.

“Natasha Ratliff is a woman who gets what she wants,” Krohl says, shaking his head, as if he’s just now warming up to Hernandez’s theory. “You know this. I know this. Shit, half the globe knows this. Maybe you were afraid…no, no. You weren’t afraid. Youknew. Knew she’d go after you for everything. Destroy your reputation, your business. Take your child, your home, your income. We know you’ve got quite the cushy nest egg.”

He’s really on a roll. I wonder if they practiced this skit in advance.

Hernandez leans forward again, piggybacking off her partner’s momentum. “You were threatened with losing everything that matters to you, and you lost control. Didn’t you? You lost control in the restaurant, and she pushed you further. She pushed you so far you knew you had to get her out of the way. To save yourself, save the kid.”

This is all bullshit. But there’s nothing I can do, just sit here with these cuffs digging into my wrists while I’m forced to listen to false speculation.

“But how to get rid of her without ruining your life in the process…?” Hernandez continues thoughtfully. “A big, splashy murder just isn’t your style. So you set it up to look like an accidental overdose. Something you could easily pass off as an accident. Something that keeps you in your home, with your child and your extensive wealth. Untouchable. But guess what? Your privilege can’t keep you safe from the law, Ratliff. Not this time.”

She almost looks triumphant, like this inane statement is her trump card. If it weren’t for the handcuffs, I’d even be tempted to give her little performance the slow clap.

“I demand to speak with my attorney,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’ve had enough of story time. This interview is over.”

After an eternity of silence, Detective Krohl lets out a heavy sigh. Then he turns off the recorder and tucks it into his pocket with a weary shake of his head. “Okay. You’ll get your call. But I’m telling you now, this won’t make things better for you.”

Moments later, I’m taken into a tiny office by another officer to make my call.

“Phone’s on the desk. Make it quick. I’ll be right outside,” he tells me.

All I want in this moment is to hear Abbie’s voice, but I need to talk to Bowen first. I wait until the door clicks shut behind the detective and then immediately dial Bow’s cell. It goes straight to voicemail. My frustration rears its ugly head yet again. Where the fuck is she? There’s no way she doesn’t know what’s going on. My arrest has been all over the news. I try again, to no avail. We’re going to have words when she gets here. I pay her well to be available at all hours.

I dial her office number next, hoping to God that she’s in.

“Bowen and Ellis,” Destiny answers curtly, which instantly rubs me the wrong way.

“This is Graham Ratliff. I need to speak to Bow.”

“Mr. Ratliff!” Her tone changes on a dime. “I’m so sorry, but Miss Bowen is currently out of pocket.”

“Where the bloody hell is she?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss it,” is all she says. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m with the police. I’ve been in an interrogation room all day, and I need Bow to get down here as quickly as possible. Or Ellis, or whoever you’ve got.”

“Ellis is unavailable. I can send one of our junior attorneys, Brooks Farris?”

I let out a laugh with no humor in it and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to center myself. “Fine. Send whomever. Just make sure they get here immediately.”

After I hang up, I sit and stare at the phone. A junior attorney? I don’t like it one bit. It feels wrong. It feels like a bad omen looming over my head. I know nothing about this Farris, only that he’s not who I pay for and not who I trust. But I don’t have a choice.

Goddammit, Graham, if you’d only kept your shit together.

Behind me, the door opens. I brace myself for the detective to tell me my time is up and that he’s taking me back to the interrogation room for more bullshit with Krohl and Hernandez.

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