Page 59 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

Two of the officers break up, walking past me to inspect the janitor closet. The overwhelming smell of bleach sends me back to when I was a Crow. The chemicals would linger for days.

“We need you to come down to the station,” says one of the officers as his co-workers inspect the damage. “We need a statement from you.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to say. I was at the very top of the building when the attack started.”

“What were you doing up there?”

“Mr. Moretti is in no position to speak now,” says one of the other officers. “If he wishes to have his lawyer present⁠—”

“That won’t be necessary. I have nothing to hide.”

Except, I do have stuff to hide.

But I must keep everything swept under the rug. I have a long way to fall. Not only do I destroy my business and the mafia, I destroy Ophelia, and my Sunshine has already been through enough.

If I go down, who will be around to save Ophelia?

Better yet, who will be around to save these boys from their own demons?

18

OPHELIA

Every time I shut my eyes, I see the knife doused in fresh blood. I see the body thumping to the ground, their mouth opening and closing helplessly as they choke on their own blood.

Even when I open my eyes, I see the chaos. The attack is plastered across the internet. Clicking on my phone, I see breaking news announcements from news channels.

“Moretti Global under attack as employees grieve for the deceased.”

“A peaceful memorial turns into a bloodbath.”

“Two dead, three sustaining life-threatening injuries."

An incoming call from Sapphire jolts me from my trance. I answer, raising the device to my ear.

“Oh my god, Phee, I just got off shift,” she gasps. “The ER was terrible.”

A cold shiver runs down my spine. “Are any more people dead?”

“Not yet,” she says. “But it’s not looking good.” She pauses for a beat. “You could have lost your life last night.”

“I was at the top of the building with Salvatore. We were heading back down to the memorial, and it was chaos, like a bloodbath.”

“I’m coming over.”

“No, you need to sleep after your night shift.”

“I’m fine, but you are not.”

“I’m… okay. I’ll feel better when Salvatore leaves the station. According to some news sources, he’s still with the police.” I tap some notifications while on call to Sapphire, scrolling through paparazzi shots of Salvatore being lowered into a police car.

Nausea rolls through me, my throat turning dry. Salvatore has murdered people, and now he has been taken in for questioning.

What if the person behind the attack was trying to set him up?

“Are you still with me?” asks Sapphire, horns blaring down the phone as she paces home.

“Yeah, still here.”