Page 21 of Coerced Kiss
Seventy-five thousand one hundred and sixteen plus three thousand five hundred and ten plus eighty-six thousand plus fifty-five thousand six hundred and sixteen equals two hundred and twenty thousand two hundred and forty-two.
Seventy-five thousand one hundred and sixteen times three thousand five hundred and ten equals two hundred and sixty-three million, six hundred and fifty-seven thousand, one hundred and sixty.
I carry on until I’ve multiplied all the numbers and then do subtractions in my head.
When it’s finally my turn, an officer escorts me down the hallway past the open plan offices to the corner office at the end. The HR manager, Ms. Price, stands next to a female officer. Their heads are bent over a clipboard.
“That’s the full staff count,” Ms. Price says, glancing up as we pass. “There’s no one absent except for Mr. Fisher who’s been on leave since last week.”
Her voice fades away as the officer opens the door of the big office and shows me inside. Another officer sits behind Mr. Lewis’s desk. The couple of times I’ve been inside this office were enough to familiarize me with the huge mahogany desk, the collection of South American tribal dolls locked in a glass showcase, and the thick wool rug in the center of the floor. What gets to me are the framed photographs on the walls. Graduation ceremonies. Family vacations. Birthdays. Mr. Lewis’s wedding photo.
A husband and father is gone, and I know who’s responsible. Only, his murderer will never be brought to justice. The thought leaves me lightheaded. Guilty. Despicable. Raging. It makes me feel helpless and trapped. Suffocating.
The officer behind the desk stands, his expression concerned, while the one at my side takes my elbow.
The one behind the desk speaks. “Are you all right, Ms. Brennan?”
“She’s not,” someone says in a deep, suave voice from the door.
I freeze, not having the courage to turn around and confirm what my mind already knows.
“It’s obvious,” Saverio adds in a dark tone as he appears like an apparition in front of me, tall and formidable in a gray three-piece suit.
The small gold hoop in his ear contradicts the formal style, adding a touch of daring rebelliousness, but instead of clashing with the power his designer clothes evoke, it enforces the image by adding a semblance of danger. He’s an unconventional man who doesn’t follow rules, and his choice of style shows it.
Something so chilling flashes in his startling blue eyes as he looks at where the officer grips my elbow that my breathing stutters. Locking his fingers around the officer’s wrist, he squeezes hard enough to make the officer flinch as he forcefully removes his hand from my arm.
“Please,” Saverio drawls with a cold smile, holding on to the officer’s wrist. The corners of his eyes tighten as he pins the officer with an arctic stare. “Do not touch my girlfriend. I can assure you, neither she nor me finds it pleasant.”
Despite Saverio’s polished tone and fake smile, the menace emanating from him is so potent that my mouth goes dry. The officer takes a step away from me only to find himself still trapped in the vise of Saverio’s fingers.
“I was only—” the officer starts, but his words are cut short when Saverio’s knuckles turn white.
The man bends under Saverio’s hold, writhing like an animal caught in the iron teeth of a trap.
The man behind the desk makes to move just as Saverio lets his co-worker go. Both officers are frozen in place, seemingly unsure about what happened or how to handle it.
Ignoring their bafflement, Saverio wraps an arm around my waist and leads me to one of the visitor’s chairs facing the desk. “There you go,tesoro. Have a seat.” He pushes me down gently before sitting next to me and taking my hand. “This must be a terrible shock for you.”
Like the officers, I’m too taken aback to react. What is he doing here? Well, I know why he came, but how did he know they were about to question me?
The officer behind the desk comes to his senses first. Taking back some authority, he crosses his arms and widens his stance.
He cocks an eyebrow at Saverio. “And you are?”
Saverio takes a business card from his pocket and slides it over the desk without letting go of my hand. “I’m Anya’s boyfriend. I came as soon as she called me.”
My lips part at the blatant lies and how effortlessly Saverio spews them. I have to remind myself to shut my mouth.
The officer glances at the card before lifting his gaze to Saverio. “Why would you do that?”
Saverio pulls my hand into his lap. “To support my girlfriend, of course. If you’re uncomfortable with my presence, I can ask that my lawyer come instead.”
A ghost of a smile plays over the officer’s lips, but it’s not friendly. “This is a routine questioning. We’re not accusing Ms. Brennan of anything.”
“That’s my understanding.” Saverio’s tone carries a challenge. “Therefore, my presence shouldn’t be an issue.”
“No issue at all,” the officer says, raising his hands in an almost mocking gesture. “We already have Ms. Brennan’s statement from last night, which claims that you walked her home after work.”