by Sienna Blake
I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe.
“I was at my brother’s funeral Friday afternoon. Then I met up with my best friend Mercutio, afterward.”
“This Mercutio have a last name?”
“Brevio.”
Espo wrote this down on his pad. “What did you guys do?”
“We caught up at his grandmother’s house. Had dinner. Got ready, had a few drinks. Then we went out to Club Luxe around nine thirty.”
“We’ll need the phone number and address of Mercutio and his grandmother. I assume they can corroborate your story.”
“Of course.”
“What happened after that?”
“Like I said, I went to Club Luxe where about a dozen people saw me.”
“And you stayed all night? Until when?”
“I left at about eleven p.m.” He cleared his throat. “With a lady friend.”
I swallowed hard, my throat developing a lump. He’d have to produce the name of this “lady friend” for us to corroborate his whereabouts. My name. The irony.
“Where did you and this lady friend go?”
“We spent the rest of the night together in my hotel room.”
“Which hotel?”
Oh shit. The hotel would have security cameras in the lobby. I was doubly screwed. The security cameras would be confiscated. I would be seen with Roman Tyrell. Irrefutable evidence, right there. My head spun.
“The Marriott, off Broadway.”
“And when did you leave your lady friend?”
“I left at around seven o’clock on Sunday.”
“You spent an entire day with this friend?”
“She was…special.”
I froze. My eyes caught his across the interrogation table. Did he just call me special? I searched Roman’s face. I couldn’t see anything under his impassionate mask.
Roman looked over to Espinoza, but his words were for me. “I don’t know if you ever met a woman who made you crave her, who…was like a drug. That you couldn’t get enough of. A woman you wanted to protect and worship. Always.”
As he spoke my stomach twisted into heated knots. My nipples turned hard, pressing painfully against my bra …a woman who made you crave her, who was like a drug. That you couldn’t get enough of. He felt those things about me.
Liar! He was fucking with me. He wasn’t even touching me and he was still fucking me. He was trying to manipulate me. He wanted me to think he was innocent.
What if he was innocent?
Was the Roman I met someone I could imagine torturing and killing Vinnie in such a cold, heartless manner? Someone who could dispose of the body and murder weapon with such a practiced manner? He didn’t feel like a heartless killer to me.
What did I really know about Roman Tyrell?
Espinoza smirked. “I can’t say I’ve ever felt that for a woman.”
“It’s a rare thing to find, indeed,” Roman said.
“And does this special friend have—”
“Where did you go after you left her?” I interrupted Espo. I wasn’t ready for Roman to spill our dirty little secret. I could feel Espo glaring at me for interrupting him. We never did that in interviews. It was one of our rules to maintain a singular front. No disrespecting the other person. No arguing. No interruptions. Unless, of course, we were trying for an interrogation play.
Roman looked over to me, folding his large masculine hands in front of him, hands that fit perfectly around my neck as he fucked me from behind. Wetness pooled in between my legs as the memory flashed through me.
“I went to meet my father,” Roman’s voice cut through my thoughts. “For dinner.”
“Where did you have dinner?” Espo asked.
A restaurant with wait staff could corroborate his story. Roman could be innocent of this horrendous crime after all.
“We had dinner at his house. You can ask my father, his staff…”
His father’s house, where only the people his father paid were alibis.
Espo pursed his lips, and I knew this was what he was thinking too. “What was for dinner?”
“Rib-eye steak with steamed green beans and roasted potatoes. I had mine medium rare, my father had his rare. Did you want to hear what we had for dessert as well? Perhaps the wine list?”
He was mocking us. He recited the menu as if it were a list he’d memorized. I was sure Giovanni would tell us the exact same thing. The Tyrells were too smart. If they had planned their alibis, we wouldn’t find a hole in them. This was why Giovanni Tyrell had managed to evade justice for so damn long.
“When did you leave your father’s?” Espo asked, giving up that line of questioning.
“I stayed until about ten thirty p.m., after which he dropped me off at Copan Bar. Mercutio can vouch for me again.”
“A good friend, is he?” I asked.
Roman’s eyes flicked to mine. He hesitated for a second. Then said, “Yes, a good friend.” I realized Mercutio was a weak spot for him.
“Good enough that he would lie for you?” I asked.
Roman’s eyes narrowed. “I’m insulted at your question.”
I leaned forward on my elbows. “You still haven’t answered it.”
Roman leaned in too, matching my posture. “Mercutio doesn’t need to lie for me, detective.”
We were practically breathing the same air. Our faces only inches apart. We were so close that I could see his irises dilate so that his chocolate eyes now looked as black as night. Was he angry or…turned on? His eyes dropped to my lips. Oh God. He was turned on.
Fuck, so was I. Heat pooled in the base of my belly as my gaze drew to his mouth. I could remember how soft yet firm his lips were when he kissed me, claiming me, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.
Our lips were so close. If I leaned in further I could—
Espo cleared his throat. I threw myself back into my chair. What the fuck was I doing? I was about to kiss the prime suspect in the interrogation room. Espo gave me a strange look which I ignored while I tried to calm my racing heart.
“How long did you stay?” I continued like nothing had happened.
Cool as anything, Roman leaned back in his chair and adjusted his jacket. “Not long. I left at elevenish.”
“Alone?” Espo asked.
“With a girl,” Roman said.
“This mysterious special friend again?”
Roman flinched. My stomach hardened. He glanced at me, hesitation clear in his eyes.
“Mr. Tyrell,” Espo warned.
“No. I left with another girl,” he admitted, his voice heavy.
The fucker. The fucking fucker. He was exactly the playboy that his reputation afforded him. I can’t believe I fell for it. Less than four hours after he left me he was taking another woman back to his bed. I wanted to punch him in the face. I leaned back in my chair and fisted my itching hands across my chest.
“Another woman?” I said. “Where did you two go?”
“To my apartment.” His words stabbed me.
“And was this one special as well?” I fought and failed to hide the bitterness in my voice.
“No. I…I thought the special woman was lost to me. I…” For the first time during this whole interview, Roman seemed unsure.
“This other woman have a name?” Espo asked.
He shrugged. “I’m sure she did, but I didn’t catch it. Rachel or something.”
“And did she stay at your place until seven the next day too?” I asked.
“No… she only lasted ten minutes or so before she left.”
“That was quick.”
“I changed my mind about her company.”
I stared at Roman, wondering if this was at all true.
“Leaving you alone?” Espo asked.
“Just me and a bottle of Jack.”
“And you have no idea who this mystery woman was?” Espinoza’s voice bordered on sarcastic, betraying his doubt in Roman’s story.
“No.”
Roman’s eyes hardened. Once more the Roman I knew felt lost to me. “My building has security cameras. I’m sure you could get a hold of them.”
“We’ll have to check your story. We have your father in the next room.”
If Roman was guilty he may have flinched. Instead, he smiled without humor. “Say hello to dear old Dad for me.”
“And this special girl,” Espo said. “The first one. What was her name?”
Roman caught my gaze. This was it. The moment I become a fucking laughing stock of the entire precinct. I braced myself.
“Rosaline.”
What? I stared at Roman. His face gave away nothing. He was lying. The fucker was lying. “Rosaline who?” I demanded.
“Rosaline le Monde.”
“Pearce le Monde’s daughter?” Espo asked. Mr. Le Monde was a prominent Verona businessman with a vast property portfolio.
“One and the same.”
“Who is she to you?” I demanded, trying to sound like a cop and not a jealous girlfriend.
I caught a slight quirk of the corner of Roman’s lip. He knew I was jealous and the bastard was amused by it. “She’s an old flame.”
My blood flared hot as a possessiveness I’ve never felt thundered through me. It took all my willpower not to growl. What in the ever-loving fuck was wrong with me? I could not be getting possessive over a man I slept with once. Correction: I had the best sex of my life with, multiple times over twenty-four hours.
I shoved a pad of paper and a pen in front of Roman. “Write down her number and address. We’ll be checking her story too.”
“Of course, Ms. Capulet, or is it Mrs. Capulet? Is there a lucky Mr. Capulet? I didn’t quite pick that up when we first met.” Roman wrote in neat scrawl on the pad.
“Detective Capulet.”
“I see. Well, Detective Capulet,” he placed the pen down on the pad, “you seem like a woman with a lot of hidden talents. Do you think I killed poor Mr. Torrito?”
“I prefer to reserve judgment until I have all the evidence.”
“A perfectly valid statement. Good to see that you’re not the kind of woman to make judgments without all the evidence in place.” There it was, the flash of anger behind his cold eyes. Was he angry at me? For thinking that he might have done it? He was a Tyrell, for fuck sake.
“Now, if you don’t have any more questions, I’m leaving.” Roman pushed himself up to standing, his wide frame feeling like he was crowding out this tiny room. I found myself eye level with his crotch. The image of his thick shaft flashed into my mind, my lips around it, licking it until it was wet enough to slide smoothly inside me. The wave of desire that hit me was so hard that I almost groaned, my clit turning into a pulsating button. I stood suddenly, so harshly that I almost toppled the chair behind me, trying to shake off the shudder running down my spine. All the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room and I was having trouble breathing.
“It was so lovely to meet you, Detective Capulet.” His eyes burned into mine. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Don’t leave town,” I called after him as Espinoza escorted him from the room.
He paused at the door, giving me one last burning stare. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
22
____________
Julianna
I sank into my chair as Roman slipped out of sight. For the first time since I’d stepped into this interrogation room, I felt like I could breathe properly.
Jesus Christ. My head was throbbing as the beginnings of a headache pierced my skull. I ran my mind over the entire interview. What the fuck just happened?
“Capi,” Espinoza said, startling me. At some point he’d reentered the interrogation room. I could hear the question in his tone. I couldn’t deal with him just yet. I had to process all of this. I had to decide what the hell I was going to do.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I blurted, as I pushed my chair back and raced out of the room. I ran for the ladies’ room at the end of the hall, ignoring the strange looks of the other officers as I shoved past. In the bathroom, I locked myself into a stall. I collapsed on the closed toilet lid and let my face fall into my hands.
Roman fucking Tyrell was my Roman.
The man I had almost run away to Paris with was a criminal. Not just any criminal, but the new heir to the Tyrells’ bloody empire. Jesus Christ. How could I have gone home with a man like that? How could I have given myself, my body, to a Tyrell? I shuddered. I’d seen the crime scene photos of the many alleged victims of the Tyrell family and their mob infighting. Like the massacre at the warehouse when his brother, Jacob Tyrell, had died along with dozens of his men. And of Michelle Rossi, a mob-bunny turned informant. They had raped her and beaten her to a purple mess before someone had mercifully put a bullet into her head.
I tried to imagine Roman standing over someone with a gun. Or even hitting a woman.
I couldn’t.
Roman had come to my defense at the club when that jackass started manhandling me. “I was just coming over to save you…”
“Why? Because I’m a girl and all I need is a big strong man to come save me?”
“No, because you’re a human being. I don’t like it when I see other human beings being treated without respect. Not when I can do something about it.”
Could that have been an act? Why act in front of me?
I tried to fit these two pieces of the same man together. I tried to reconcile Roman Tyrell with the man who I’d bared my body and my soul to.
I couldn’t.
What should I do now?
I had a conflict of interest in this investigation. I shouldn’t be on this case. I had slept with the prime suspect. I had to report my involvement with Roman. I cringed as I imagined how that conversation would go down with the captain. Oh shit. My father, the chief… he’d specifically given me this case. And Espo… what would I tell him?
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell anyone. It’d ruin my career. Any respect or reputation I’d worked so hard to create would be shattered. I’d never be taken seriously as a woman detective again.
Could I work this case? With my body still reacting to him the way it did?
I had to. I had to do my job, no matter what it was that I felt. I could work the case. I could be unbiased. Just because I had slept with him—had the most amazing night of my life with him—I could still work the case like he was any other suspect. Right? Just because my body reacted like a live wire whenever he was around—stupid mutinous body—I could still rationalize the evidence. I could arrest him and put him away if he was guilty. Right?
I had to put all my feelings for Roman aside and work the case. Treat him like any other suspect. And hope that he’d keep his mouth shut about us.
23
____________
Roman
What the fuck just happened?
I stole one last glance at Julianna before I strode out of the interrogation room, my body still alive with the current that flowed under my skin when she was near. My pull towards her hadn’t gotten any weaker. If anything, the chemistry between us had magnified in that tiny room. Fuck, I had almost grabbed her and kissed her. I almost kissed a detective in the middle of a fucking police station. I would have laughed at myself if it wasn’t so fucking serious. She was making me lose my mind.
I had dreamed about seeing her again. Not like that.
For a second I had thought that our meeting had been a police sting. But the look of shock on her face when she walked into the interrogation room had been genuine. She hadn’t expected me to be sitting there. She hadn’t expected to see me again at all.
What would she do now?
She had a conflict of interest. She would have to report our relationship.
Shit. My father would find out.
I c
ursed under my breath. My father, I could handle. He wouldn’t hurt me. Would he harm Julianna if he knew how close she’d gotten to me?
My gut tightened. Of course, he would. No weapon. No evidence. No witnesses. Those were his mottos, the reason he’d been able to stay one step outside the law.
Julianna was a liability.
I spotted Abel and another one of my father’s goons standing by the door of another interrogation room. My father must be in there.
I couldn’t face him right now.
I strode towards the elevator. Abel stepped out in front of me, blocking my path. “Your father isn’t done yet.”
I glared at him. “Get out of my way.”
“You’re to return home with your father when he’s done.”
“I don’t take orders from you, dog.”
Abel’s lip pulled up. The skin around his eyes and jaw tightened.
“Is there a problem here?” A male voice spoke from behind me.
It was the male detective, Espinoza, Julianna’s partner.
“No, problem, Detective Espinoza,” I said, trying to relax my face and attempting to smile. “I was just leaving.”
Abel scowled but he stepped aside, unable to stop me under the wary stare of the detective.
I had to figure out a way to talk to Julianna. I had to get her alone somehow. I had to warn her not to tell anyone about us. Would she even want to see me again? Would she even listen to me? Despite the way her body still reacted to mine in the interrogation room, I could see the shock-turned-anger in her when she found out my last name was Tyrell.
It didn’t matter. I had to get her alone and make her listen to me. Then after that, I had to stay the hell away from her.
24
____________
Julianna
After washing my face, I walked out of the bathroom and almost ran into someone in the hallway. I swallowed as the imposing figure of Giovanni Tyrell took up my vision, two men in suits flanking him. I could see the resemblance to Roman in his thick dark hair, the same strong jaw and hooded eyes, except there was a glittering menace in Giovanni’s stare. I felt like I was looking into the future. Would this be who Roman turned into?
