Page 82 of Claim

Before I could lean down to kiss her lips, the penthouse buzzer sounded, and at the same time, my cell phone and the elevator intercom rang.

“If that’s your brother, I will punch him in the face. He loves to show up unannounced. I should ignore him and leave him standing in the lobby. Only those with the codes can access the elevators.”

“He’ll find some way to get up here.” The sly smile she gave me said she’d probably do the exact same thing. “He’s a Morelli, after all.”

“Let me guess. Out of your siblings, you’re closest to him.”

“We’re the misfits or the clan. We, the black sheep of the family, stick together.”

I touched her ears. “You mean black diamonds.”

“You noticed my signature stone. Impressive.”

“I notice everything about you.” I clenched my jaw and turned toward the doors leading into the penthouse. “One form of communication would have been enough. He didn’t need to tag everything at the same time.”

“That’s Lucian. He wanted your attention.”

I stalked to the intercom for the elevator. “Morelli, what do you want?”

“It’s NYPD, Mr. Pierce. We need to ask you a few questions.”

What the fuck could they want?

“Come on up.”

Less than a minute later, the elevator opened with six officers. They all were bruisers of men who looked like they could take down a whole football team. This was overkill for questions.

They studied me from head to toe, assessing whether I’d run.

“Gentlemen, no need to bring a team to ask questions.”

“We’re here to bring you in for the questioning,” The tallest of the men stated.

“For what exactly?”

A shorter, stocky man with red hair stepped forward. “Murder. It’s best if you come with us quietly.”

A throbbing roared to life in my head. Williams had finally convinced the cops of my guilt. No matter the evidence or the truth of the situation, he’d managed to make someone believe I’d taken Maria’s life.

A prickle of awareness slid down my neck, telling me Sophia stood behind me. Of course, this was the last thing I wanted her to see.

“Let’s get this over with. Let me get changed.”

“No, you’re not going anywhere.” Sophia stormed toward us, fury on her face. “Do you have a warrant to bring him in? Otherwise, he is not obligated to listen to anything you say.”

Before she faced off with one of the officers, I stepped in her path. “It’s going to be fine.”

“The hell it is. I know how this works.” The anger in her dark eyes burned as if she’d set the men behind me on fire. “You don’t have to go anywhere unless these men have a warrant. And we know Maria wasn’t murdered. She took her own life. The words of a grieving brother would never sanction any judge to clear an order of arrest.”

I stared at her, knowing, without a doubt, I’d never let her go. She continually stood up for me even when I knew I damn well never deserved it.

Just as I readied to tell the cops to fuck off, one of them said, “This isn’t about a woman. It’s about the murder of Keith Randolph. The fashion designer.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sophia

“How long is this going to take?” I muttered to myself as I glanced at the wall for the tenth time and paced back and forth in the waiting area of the precinct lockup.

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