THE MAFIA KING’S RUNAWAY BRIDE

CHAPTER 3: The interrogation

Stephanie’s POV

I didn’t want to get into the police car. I didn’t want to leave Matteo’s house. I didn’t want to leave the place where he made me feel safe, where he promised me that everything would be okay once the wedding was over.

But the officers were gentle, and their voices were soft, and their eyes were full of questions I didn’t know how to answer.

And James… James stood there with his arms crossed, watching me like I was a stranger. Like I was a problem. Like I was already guilty.

His eyes didn’t look confused. They didn’t look sad. They didn’t look shocked.

They looked angry.

And that hurt more than anything.

I sat in the back seat of the police car, my hands shaking so badly I had to hold them together. My purse was beside me. The pregnancy test was still inside. I kept thinking about it, about the tiny life growing inside me, about how everything was falling apart too fast.

The officer in the front seat glanced at me through the mirror. “We’re just going to ask you some questions,” she said softly. “You’re not under arrest.”

Not yet.

The words echoed in my head even though she didn’t say them.

The drive to the station felt longer than it should have. The city lights blurred past the window. My breath fogged the glass. My heartbeat felt too loud. My stomach twisted with every bump in the road.

I kept touching my stomach. I kept whispering, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”

I didn’t know if I was talking to myself or the baby.

When we arrived, the station was busy. Officers walked back and forth. Phones rang. Papers shuffled. The air smelled like coffee and stress. I followed Officer Marquez down a hallway until we reached a small room with a table and two chairs.

“Sit wherever you’re comfortable,” she said.

Comfortable. There was nothing comfortable about this.

I sat down slowly. My hands rested on my lap. My fingers wouldn’t stop shaking. Officer Marquez sat across from me, placing her notebook on the table.

“We’re going to take this slow,” she said. “If you need a break, tell me.”

I nodded.

She clicked her pen. “Stephanie, when you arrived at Matteo’s estate, did you see anyone leaving?”

“No.”

“Did you hear anything unusual?”

“No.”

“Did Matteo seem distressed recently?”

I hesitated. “He… he didn’t say anything.”

“Did you notice any changes in his behavior?”

I swallowed hard. “He was worried about the wedding.”

“Why?”

I looked down. My throat tightened. “He didn’t trust Anna.”

Officer Marquez wrote something down. “Did he say why?”

“No.”

She nodded slowly. “Stephanie, I need to ask something difficult.”

My breath caught. “Okay.”

“Did you and Matteo argue recently?”

“No,” I whispered. “Never.”

“Did James argue with him?”

My stomach twisted. “I don’t know.”

She studied me for a moment. “Stephanie… did you touch anything in the office besides Matteo?”

I shook my head. “Just him.”

“Did you move anything?”

“No.”

“Did you see anything out of place?”

I hesitated. My mind flashed back to the dark room, the silence, the cold air, Matteo’s body on the floor.

“There was a broken glass,” I whispered. “Near his desk.”

Officer Marquez wrote quickly. “Did you touch it?”

“No.”

“Did you see blood?”

I closed my eyes. “Yes.”

She nodded again. “Thank you.”

I felt my chest tighten. My breath shook. My fingers curled into fists. I didn’t want to cry, but the tears were already burning behind my eyes.

“Stephanie,” she said gently, “is there anything else you want to tell me?”

I opened my mouth. I almost said it. I almost told her about the pregnancy. About the baby. About the fear twisting inside me.

But I couldn’t.

Not here. Not now. Not with James somewhere in this building. Not with everything falling apart.

“No,” I whispered. “Nothing else.”

Before Officer Marquez could respond, the door opened.

James walked in.

My breath stopped.

He didn’t look at the officer. He didn’t look at the notebook. He didn’t look at the room.

He looked at me.

His eyes were cold. His jaw was tight. His voice was sharp.

“Why were you there?” he asked.

Officer Marquez stood. “Sir, you can’t-”

James ignored her. He stepped closer to me. “Why were you at my father’s house?”

My throat tightened. “I needed to talk to him.”

“About what?”

“Something personal.”

His eyes narrowed. “You were the last person to see him alive.”

I felt my stomach twist. “James, I-”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Officer Marquez stepped between us. “Sir, you need to leave.”

James glared at her, then at me. “You better tell the truth.”

He walked out, slamming the door behind him.

The sound echoed through the room, sharp and painful.

I pressed my hand against my stomach, trying to calm myself, trying to breathe, trying to stay steady.

Officer Marquez sat down again. “Stephanie… we’re going to need you to stay for further questioning.”

My breath shook. “Am I… am I a suspect?”

She didn’t answer.

And that was worse than hearing yes.

I looked at the door. I looked at the table. I looked at my purse. I looked at my stomach.

My world was collapsing.

And I didn’t know how to stop it.