THE BILLIONAIRE'S BARGAIN

CHAPTER 38

Officer Martinez! You can't use force during an interrogation. Let go off him!”, chief Peterson commands, his voice echoing off the walls of the interrogation room. Martinez, still brimming with anger, reluctantly releases Marco, feeling the anger surge through him as he turns away from the table. The gravity of the situation weighs heavily on him; Detective Ling, a respected and well-liked member of their precinct, had endured unimaginable violence. The thought that someone could plan to dismiss her life without permission…..

"And you," Chief Peterson continues, his voice steady but stern,

“Don't think you can easily evade the consequences of your actions. Even if you choose not to disclose Vinnie's whereabouts, rest assured, we have the means to find him.

“With his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, Peterson maintains a calm demeanor, attempting to intimidate Marco into revealing the truth. Martinez, however, is barely holding back his rage.

“You think that's a valid excuse?" he interjects, his voice rising.

"You shot her because she annoyed you? Do you even comprehend the weight of what you've done?”

Marco shrugs, a defiant smirk creeping onto his face as if he relishes the tension in the air.

“Did you see me shoot her? Maybe if she wasn’t so involved in our boss's business, it wouldn’t have happened. She was always around, always pushing, always annoying me about everything. I just snapped. She had it coming.”

Chief Peterson’s gaze hardens, his expression unyielding.

“I see you are not ready to cooperate. You must understand, Mr. Marco, that your actions have real consequences. Detective Ling has shown remarkable resilience and has recovered. However, based on your case, I am at a loss for what to offer you.”

Frustration coursing through him, Martinez takes a step closer to the table, his body coiled with tension, itching for action. He fights the instinct to grab Marco by the collar, to shake him until he understands the weight of his actions. Before he can act on that impulse, Peterson places a reassuring hand on Martinez’s shoulder, grounding him.

“This is not the way, Martinez,” Peterson states evenly, though his tone carries an unmistakable firmness.

“We uphold the law, even when dealing with those we despise. Your anger is justified, but we cannot allow it to cloud our judgment.” Martinez exhales heavily, his muscles still tense. The chief’s presence serves as a reminder of the importance of maintaining control, even in the face of overwhelming frustration. He steps back, allowing his emotions to simmer beneath the surface.

“Mr. Marco,” Peterson continues, “do you have anything to say for yourself? Any remorse?” For the first time, Marco’s bravado falters as he glances between the two officers. The gravity of his situation begins to dawn on him, and a flicker of uncertainty flits across his face. Yet, stubbornness prevails, and he maintains his ground.

“The next time you want to talk with me, I need my lawyer present,” he declares defiantly, staring pointedly at both men. Martinez seizes this moment, his temper still simmering but barely restrained.

“What does that even mean? You just snapped? Did you ever think about how this would affect her family, her friends?”

“Why am I even here? I'm innocent!” Marco shouts, his bravado crumbling as he raises his hands defensively.

“We thought she would figure everything out about us. Every raid she was there, and you know what's funny? She was always ahead of the men in charge. We were scared…”

“Scared?” Martinez retorts, stepping closer yet again.

“You think being scared justifies shooting someone? Your boss made a choice to pull that trigger, Marco. You could have walked away. You didn’t have to shoot her.” Marco's gaze drops to the table, the anger in his demeanor subsiding slightly.

“I have never hurt anybody. I just… it felt like I had no choice.”

“Enough,” Martinez says sharply, his tone brokering no argument.

“We’re not going to get anywhere with this back-and-forth. You want to face the consequences of your choices? Then let’s focus on the facts. You shot a police officer. What do you think is going to happen now?”

“I don’t know,” Marco mutters, his facade of bravado crumbling further. Martinez senses the weight of the emotional moment pressing down on them. He looks at Peterson, who seems attuned to the growing tension in the room.

“This is a serious situation with serious consequences, Mr. Marco. You need to understand that engaging in violence is never the answer. The law doesn’t care about your frustrations.” Marco's gaze falls to the floor, and for a fleeting moment, the facade of bravado drops entirely.

“I didn't want to get caught up in this. I didn't want any of it.” Martinez seizes the moment, stepping back into the fray with a renewed approach.

“Then help us understand. Talk to us about what happened leading up to that moment. How did it escalate to that point?” Marco shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the weight of the officers' scrutiny heavy upon him. The room is thick with silence, the air charged with unspoken tension.

“I just… I don’t know if I can,” Marco finally admits, his voice shaky. “Why not?” Peterson asks, probing gently but firmly.

“It’s crucial for you to share your side if you want any chance of alleviating this situation.” “I need my lawyer,” Marco insists again, his defiance returning as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. Martinez exchanges a glance with Peterson, both men recognizing the futility of continuing the interrogation under these circumstances.

“Very well,” Peterson concedes. “We will arrange for your lawyer to be here. In the meantime, we have no choice but to return you to your cell.”

Marco nods, his bravado slipping once more as the reality of his predicament sinks in. The officers prepare to escort him out, the room still left with the weight of unresolved tension and the haunting consequences of a single, impulsive decision. As Marco is led away, Martinez and Peterson both understood each other silently —a recognition of the complexities of justice, the challenges of their work, and the pain that lingers in the aftermath of violence.

“Let’s regroup and discuss our next steps,” Peterson suggests, turning to Martinez as they exit the room, leaving behind the remnants of a conversation that had barely scratched the surface of truth. The heavy door closes behind them, sealing away the unresolved emotions and the haunting reality.