While the night slowly wound down, George sat alone in a dim police interrogation room, elbows braced on the cold metal table, his head buried in his hands.
The cuffs around his wrists felt heavier than they should have. They bit into his skin, a constant reminder that this wasn’t a nightmare he could wake up from.
How the hell had things turned out like this?
That one question burned hot at the back of his mind, eating him alive like a math question he couldn't find an answer to.
This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. Not even close.
His jaw tightened as he dragged his hands down his face, fingers curling into fists.
The plan had been simple—clean, even elegant in his mind. Humiliate Mirena publicly at the auction, tear down whatever pride she’d rebuilt since th
