THE BILLIONAIRE'S ALIBI

Morning After

Ella woke to sunlight.

For several seconds, she remained perfectly still, her eyes closed, listening to the unfamiliar silence surrounding her. The room smelled faintly of expensive cologne, clean linen, and the remnants of a night she had promised herself she would never think about again.

Then she remembered, her eyes opened.She stared at the unfamiliar ceiling.

“Oh, God.”

She turned her head slowly, the stranger was still asleep beside her.

And suddenly, the confidence she'd possessed the night before evaporated.

What the hell had she done?

Ella pushed herself upright and gathered the sheet against her chest. Her gaze moved across the room, taking in the expensive furniture, the discarded clothes, the half-empty bottle of champagne on the table, and the black suit jacket she'd watched him remove several hours ago.

Fragments of the night returned, His voice.

His hands.

His mouth against hers, his callous hands caressing her skin like he's marking a territory.

The way he rammed into her rough, his sharp and rapid thrusting, they sound of wet-slapping ringing in her ears.

Her face flushed with shame on how she moaned loudly the previous night.

The way she'd forgotten, for several hours, that she had a family waiting to dictate her future.

She pressed her lips together, dhe wasn't ashamed.

That surprised her.

For once, she had done something without asking whether it was appropriate, without asking whether her father would approve. Without imagining what her stepmother would say.

She had wanted something, she had chosen it

And she had no regrets.

Well…Maybe one.

She still didn't know his name, Ella slipped quietly from the bed.

She gathered her clothes from the floor and carried them into the bathroom. She dressed quickly, smoothing the creases from her dress before slipping her shoes back on.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, her hair was a mess. Her lips were slightly swollen.

There was a faint mark near her collarbone that she immediately covered with her hair.

She stared at her reflection for another second. “Well,” she whispered, “that happened.”

She picked up her handbag, her fingers rested briefly on the door handle.

She looked back.

The man remained asleep, one arm thrown over the pillow, his face relaxed in a way she hadn't seen the night before.

Ella smiled faintly. “Goodbye, stranger.”

She opened the door and left.

The elevator carried her down to the lobby, and within minutes, she was outside.

The morning air felt cool against her skin.

Ella inhaled deeply, It was done, one night, one reckless decision and one stranger she would never see again.

She got into her car and drove home.

By the time she entered her house, the city was fully awake. Ella dropped her handbag onto the console table and kicked off her heels.

Silence greeted her.Good she didn't a want conversation.

She walked upstairs, entered her bedroom, and headed straight for the bathroom.

The shower came on.

Warm water cascaded over her body as she stepped beneath it, and she immediately closed her eyes.

She should have been thinking about the argument with her stepmother.

She should have been thinking about work, Instead, her mind betrayed her.

She remembered the stranger's sultry voice,the way he'd looked at her, the way he'd kissed her.

Ella groaned softly and tipped her head beneath the water.

“No.”

She wasn't doing this, It was one night and he was a stranger.

And strangers didn't get space in her head.

She washed her hair, scrubbed away the remnants of the previous evening, and stayed beneath the shower until the water began cooling.

She stepped out, wrapped herself in a towel, and walked toward her wardrobe.

Her phone began ringing.

Ella stopped, she glanced toward the screen. It wasn't an Unknown number.

She ignored it, It rang again. She sighed.

“Hey, Siri. Answer the call.”

The phone connected.

“Ella?”

Her expression changed immediately, it was her colleague Detective Harrison and she knew that he wouldn't be calling unless it was extremely important.

She reached for a clean outfit.

“What's wrong?”

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“Good. Don't get comfortable.”

Ella pulled on a cream blouse and tailored black trousers. “Why?”

“Change of plans.”

She picked up her blazer, “What happened?” There was a brief silence.

“Murder.”

Ella stopped buttoning her blouse. “Location?”

“Parkview Grand Hotel.”

Her eyes narrowed. “When?”

“The call came in twenty minutes ago.”

“Victim?”

“Female. Early twenties. We haven't confirmed her identity yet.”

“Who found her?”

“Housekeeping.”

Ella picked up her badge, “I'm on my way.” She ended the call. The relaxed woman from thirty minutes ago disappeared.

Detective Ella Whitmore was back.

She grabbed her shotgun and headed downstairs.

For one fleeting second, she thought about the hotel. About last night and the handsome stranger.

Then she pushed the thought aside, Whatever had happened there was irrelevant.

She was going to a crime scene.

That was all.

Ella arrived at the Parkview Grand Hotel less than twenty minutes later.

The hotel was surrounded by police vehicles and flashing lights. Security had already blocked the main entrance, and a crowd of reporters was gathering behind the barricades.

Ella stepped out of her car.

Her heels struck the pavement as she approached the entrance.

“Detective Whitmore.” She flashed her badge. “Make way.”

The officers immediately stepped aside, Inside, the atmosphere was chaos.

Hotel employees whispered nervously. Police officers moved through the lobby. Someone was crying near the reception desk.

Ella's eyes swept across the room. “Where?”

“Penthouse suite,” an officer answered.

“Victim?”

“Female. Mid-twenties.”

“Identity?”

“Not confirmed.”

“Who found her?”

“Housekeeping.”

Ella nodded. “Take me upstairs.”

The elevator doors opened, she stepped inside.

As the numbers climbed, she mentally prepared herself. A murder scene was never simply a body.

It was a story and somebody had written this one. The elevator doors opened.

Two officers stood outside the penthouse.

“Detective.”

Ella nodded.

“Who else is inside?”

“Crime-scene unit. Medical examiner.”

“Good.”

She entered, the first thing she noticed was the silence.

The second was the blood.

The woman lay near the edge of the bedroom, one arm twisted beneath her body.

Ella stopped several feet away, she didn't approach immediately, she looked.

Blood pattern,furniture, door, windows, bed, nightstand, carpet.

Then she moved closer, “Has anything been touched?”

“No.”

“Good.” She crouched beside the body. It was a female, early twenties, single gunshot wound.

No obvious weapon, Ella examined the surrounding area. Something bothered her, She couldn't yet identify what.

“Who owns this suite?”

The officer glanced at his notes. “Elias Park.”

Ella barely reacted, the name didn't ring a bell.

She had heard it before, perhaps in passing, but it didn't matter. A hotel suite belonged to someone. Her job was to determine who had died in it and why.

She stood, “Where is he?”

“On his way.”

“Is he a suspect?”

“We don't know yet.”

Ella nodded, “Then don't treat assumptions as evidence.”

The officer looked at her. “Yes, Detective.”

She turned back toward the bedroom, her eyes moved over the room again.

The victim.

The blood.

The overturned chair.

The untouched glass.

The door.

The windows.

Something was wrong, she could feel it but she needed more than instinct.

She needed facts.

A noise came from the hallway, and several officers moved aside.

Ella turned.

A man walked into the suite, a navy suit paired with a stripe shirt.

No tie.

His expression was cold and controlled, Ella's eyes settled on him. For one brief second, she didn't recognize him.

Then she did, the handsome stranger from the bar and the same man she fulfilled her bucket list with.

The stranger whose name she had deliberately refused to ask.

Her expression didn't change.

Neither did his.

Recognition flickered across his face, but whatever surprise he felt disappeared almost immediately.

One of the officers stepped forward.

“Mr. Park, you're going to need to answer some questions.”

Elias didn't take his eyes off Ella.

“You.”

Ella remained perfectly still. “Me.”

His gaze dropped briefly to the badge hanging against her chest. Then returned to her face.

“You're a detective?”

Ella's jaw tightened. “And you're Elias Park.”

His expression gave nothing away, the officer stepped between them.

“Mr. Park, where were you last night?”

Elias finally looked away from Ella, “Handling business.”

“Where?”

“I'll answer that with my attorney present.”

The officer's expression hardened, “Mr. Park, a woman has been murdered in your hotel suite.”

“I know.”

“And you're the registered owner.”

“I know.”

“Then you'll understand why we need answers.”

Elias said nothing, Ella watched him carefully, not as the man she'd kissed, not as the stranger she'd left sleeping. Not as anything remotely personal.

Right now, he was a potential suspect standing inside a murder scene.

And she was the detective responsible for finding out what had happened.

She looked at the body again, then at Elias, then at the room.

Her instincts began screaming, something was wrong. Very wrong, she could feel it in her bones.

She walked toward the bedroom.

“Detective?”

Ella ignored the officer, and she examined the scene again.

The victim's position,the blood,the furniture, the untouched glass on the nightstand.

Her eyes narrowed, someone had staged this, but she wasn't ready to say that aloud.

Not yet.

Not until she could prove it, she straightened slowly. Across the room, Elias was still watching her.

Their eyes met, this time, there was no warmth between them. No flirtation.

The memory of the night before is no longer deemed necessary to be reminisced.

Only two strangers standing on opposite sides of a murder investigation.

Ella looked away first.

“Mr. Park,” she said evenly, “we'll need your full statement.”

Elias's expression remained unreadable.

“Of course.”

Ella turned back toward the crime scene, she had no idea what had happened in this room.

But she intended to find out.

And until the evidence told her otherwise, Elias Park was a suspect.