Killian’s POV
The chief’s words linger like a bitter aftertaste, but I keep my spirits high despite the grim news, the air in my office thick with the scent of leather and resolve. Unlike that detective, I had the foresight to plan ahead.
“So, I guess it’s a good thing I made copies of everything we found in Mia’s safe,” I murmur aloud, my voice steady, masking the fury still simmering beneath my skin.
“You made copies?” the chief replies, his tone brightening with a spark of hope that cuts through the static of the phone line.
“Yeah, I had a bad feeling about Detective Smithers,” I admit. In truth, I made three sets of copies and stashed them immediately, paranoia driving me to hide them in separate locations, each sealed away like a secret guarded by the pack’s own shadows.
I unl
