Page 73 of Venomous Desires

I paled, my heart hammering in my chest. “That’s impossible,” I stammered. “I don’t do drugs.”

He leaned in, eyes sharp with cold amusement.

“The evidence isn’t helping you, Ms. Rosewood. First you lie about your work. Now there are drugs in your system. It doesn’t look good.”

I shook my head. “I was at work. The test must be wrong.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Or someone drugged you. And you just don’t remember what happened after you killed Maroni.”

My breath caught.

“That’s quite a story,” he went on. “Troubled background. A violent father.”

“Leave my family out of this,” I said sharply.

He gave a small chuckle, unfazed. “Your father was a known criminal. Maybe it runs in the family. Maybe you snapped, just like he did.”

He leaned back slightly.

“It would be easier for everyone if you just admitted it.”

“Guards!” he yelled, and two bulky men stormed in. He motioned to me. “Throw her in the jail.”

They grabbed me roughly by the arms, and panic surged through me. “No! Please, you have to believe me!” I cried out,struggling against their iron grips. But they were unyielding, dragging me down into the cold, sterile room.

The walls seemed to close in around me, the harsh fluorescent lights casting long, eerie shadows.

“Please, listen to me!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “My father wasn’t a criminal, and neither am I! You’ve got it all wrong!”

They didn’t care. They never had. The cell door slammed shut behind me. I stumbled and fell to my knees on the cold concrete.

For a moment, I just sat there—until it hit me.

“I’m innocent!” I cried, my voice breaking. “My father was an honorable man!”

I grabbed the bars and shook them, harder than I should have. Pain shot up my arms, but I didn’t stop. Until something warm slid down my fingers.

And I realised it was blood.

“I’m innocent!” I cried, sliding down the bars. “My father—he was a good man…”

Why me? I just wanted a normal life. Something for my mother.

Mama… she must be waiting. Cooking something warm, as she always did. Mikhail… my throat tightened. I pressed my knees to my chest, shaking.

The cell felt colder now. What was going to happen to me now?

Court. Evidence. A story I didn’t recognize being built around me. Who would do this to me? Why?

I stayed like that for another sometime when I heard voices and footsteps.

I looked up and the hollow ache was replaced by a surge of fright and anticipation.

My eyes widened for a fraction of a second as I lungeddesperately at the bars to get his full view, hoping I was not imagining things.

It was Kyle, someone I least expected.

His eyes bore into mine. Then, without breaking his gaze, he turned to the police officers and spoke in rapid Russian, his tone low and commanding. I couldn’t process his words, but the effect was immediate and chilling.