IN EVERY LIFE, I FIND YOU: Love Versus Possession

Chapter One The police had discovered another dead victim. The first thing I noticed about the dead man was his hand. It was clenched around something that shouldn’t have been there. I put on my gloves and crouched beside the body. “Has anyone touched him?” “No,” Detective Hale said from behind me. “The housekeeper found him at six forty this morning.” I studied the room. Everything was in place—the expensive books lining the shelves. The crystal decanter sitting untouched on the desk. The laptop still open. Even the chair behind the desk hadn’t been moved. No signs of a struggle. No overturned furniture. No obvious weapon. Yet Nathaniel Price was dead. And he had been holding something tightly enough that his knuckles had gone pale. “Photograph his hand.” A forensic technician raised his camera. Flash. “Now open it.” The technician carefully pried his fingers apart. A photograph slipped free. I caught it before it hit the floor. I stared at it. A woman looked back at me. Young. Beautiful. Long dark hair falling over one shoulder. She was dressed in an elegant black gown, the kind of dress that probably cost more than most people’s monthly salaries. I turned the photograph over. Nothing. No name. No message. Just the picture. “Who is she?” Hale stepped closer and looked over my shoulder. His eyebrows lifted slightly. “You seriously don’t recognize her?” I handed him the photograph. “No.” “Serena Valentina.” The name clicked immediately. Not because I knew her personally. Everyone knew the Valentinas. Serena Valentina was the youngest daughter of the Valentina family, heiress to one of the city’s most influential business empires and the founder of a rapidly growing luxury fashion brand. She appeared in magazines. Fashion campaigns. Charity galas. Business events. The kind of woman whose face ended up in newspapers even when she hadn’t done anything wrong. I looked back at the photograph. “What’s her connection to Price?” “We’re still working on that.” “And why was her picture in his hand?” Hale shrugged. “That’s what we’re here to find out.” I looked down at Nathaniel Price. A wealthy businessman, dead in his own study. No obvious struggle. No murder weapon. And now a photograph of one of the city’s most recognizable heiresses clenched in his hand. “Find her,” I said. Hale nodded. Then he hesitated. “There’s something else.” I looked up. “What?” He handed me a file. I opened it. The first page contained Serena Valentina’s photograph. Her address. Her occupation. And beneath it, a single line. Last person seen with the victim. I stared at it for a moment. Then I closed the file. “Let’s go talk to Serena Valentina.” —— The Valentina residence was exactly what I expected. Massive. Gated and impossibly expensive. The kind of house that made you wonder how many people had to work behind the scenes to keep it looking untouched. Hale parked beside the curb, and I stared through the windshield at the white stone mansion beyond the gates. “Try not to look impressed,” he said. “I’m not.” “You’ve been staring at it for thirty seconds.” “I’m assessing the property.” “Of course.” I ignored him and stepped out of the car. A security guard approached almost immediately. “Detectives?” I showed him my badge. “Detective Celine Mercer. We need to speak with Serena Valentina.” His expression tightened. “Is this regarding Mr. Price?” “Yes.” He glanced toward the house before stepping aside. “I’ll notify the family.” The gates opened. We walked up the long driveway. I noticed the security cameras first. Four visible from the front. Probably more hidden around the property. Expensive security system. Private guards. Reinforced entrance. The Valentinas had money. Which meant they also had plenty of people who could make problems disappear. The front door opened before we reached it. A woman in her fifties stood there. Elegant. Composed. “Detectives.” “Mrs. Valentina?” “Yes.” “I’m Detective Mercer. This is Detective Hale. We’d like to speak with Serena.” Her face changed slightly. Not fear but Concern. “She’s upstairs.” “Is she expecting us?” “No.” “That’s fine.” She stepped aside. “Please.” The interior was even more impressive than the outside. Marble floors. High ceilings. Modern artwork. Everything perfectly arranged. Hale glanced around. “Remind me why I became a detective instead of a billionaire.” “Because apparently you enjoy suffering.” He gave me a look. I almost smiled. Mrs. Valentina led us through the house. “She hasn’t been herself since she heard about Nathaniel.” “You knew him?” “Yes.” “Your daughter knew him?” She hesitated. “Yes.” “How well?” “I wouldn’t say they were close.” That answer came too quickly. I noticed. Before I could ask another question, we reached the staircase. “She’ll be in the sitting room.” Mrs. Valentina walked away. Hale looked at me. “You heard that too?” “I did.” We climbed the stairs. At the end of the hallway, a door stood partially open. I knocked. “Come in.” Serena Valentina was sitting beside the window. She wasn’t wearing the glamorous gown from the photograph. Instead, she had on a simple cream blouse and dark trousers. Her hair was loosely tied behind her head, and a laptop sat open on the table in front of her. She looked up. Her eyes moved from Hale to me. Then to the badge hanging from my belt. “I assume this is about Nathaniel.” Straight to the point. I appreciated that. “Yes.” She closed her laptop. “Then you should probably sit down.” Hale and I took the chairs opposite her. I pulled out my notebook. “Where were you last night?” “Home.” “Alone?” “No. My mother was here until around ten. After that, I was alone.” “Did you leave the house?” “No.” “Did you speak to Nathaniel Price yesterday?” She paused. “Yes.” “When?” “Around seven.” “Phone call?” “No. In person.” Hale leaned forward. “Where?” “A restaurant downtown.” I wrote it down. “You met him for dinner?” “Not exactly.” “What does that mean?” Serena folded her hands in her lap. “He asked me to meet him. He said there was something important he wanted to discuss.” “What?” “I don’t know.” “You met him anyway?” “He was persistent.” “What did he want?” “I couldn’t tell you.” I looked up from my notebook. “You spent time with a man who asked you to meet him because he had something important to discuss, and you didn’t ask what it was?” “I did.” “And?” “He said he’d explain when I arrived.” “And did he?” “No.” “Why?” Serena’s expression hardened slightly. “Because he never got the chance.” Silence settled over the room. Hale watched her carefully. I did too. Not because I thought she was guilty. Not yet. But because people rarely looked that calm when discussing someone they had seen only hours before his death. I flipped another page. “When did you leave the restaurant?” “Eight fifteen.” “Did anyone see you leave?” “Yes.” “Who?” “The manager. Several staff members. There were other customers.” “Did Nathaniel leave with you?” “No.” “Did you argue?” “No.” “Did he threaten you?” Her eyes narrowed. “No.” “Did you threaten him?” She stared at me. “No.” I held her gaze for a moment. Then I placed the photograph on the table between us. Serena looked down. Her expression changed immediately. Not guilt. Shock. “That’s me.” “Yes.” “I know.” “This photograph was found in Nathaniel Price’s hand.” She looked at me. For the first time since we’d entered the room, her composure cracked. “What?” I let the silence sit. “Do you know when this picture was taken?” Serena picked it up carefully. Her fingers tightened around the edges. “That was from the Valentina Foundation Gala.” “When?” “Three months ago.” “Did Nathaniel attend?” “Yes.” “Did you know he had this photograph?” “No.” “Did you give it to him?” “No.” “Did anyone else have access to it?” “Hundreds of people.” “That’s convenient.” Her eyes snapped toward me. “I didn’t kill Nathaniel.” “I didn’t say you did.” “You didn’t have to.” Hale glanced at me. I ignored him. Serena placed the photograph back on the table. Her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “Why would he have it?” “That’s what we’re trying to determine.” She looked toward the window. For a few seconds, she said nothing. Then— “There is something you should know.” I waited. “Nathaniel told me someone was watching me.” My pen stopped. “Who?” “I don’t know.” “When did he tell you?” “Last night.” “Before or after dinner?” “Before.” “And you didn’t mention that until now?” “I didn’t think it was relevant.” “It is now.” Serena looked at me. “I know.” She looked genuinely afraid. Not of the police. Not of being accused. Of something else. “Detective,” she said quietly, “I think Nathaniel knew he was going to die.” I closed my notebook. “Why?” “Because the last thing he said to me was…” She swallowed. “He told me that if anything happened to him, I shouldn’t trust the person closest to me.” The room went quiet. Hale’s expression changed. I felt the case shift beneath my feet. “What person?” I asked. Serena shook her head. “He didn’t say.” I studied her face. Then I asked the question that suddenly mattered most. “Who is the person closest to you, Serena?”