The moment Alessia read the headline on her phone, her blood ran cold. “Kane Heir Arrested: Fiancée Falls to Her Death.” The words blurred together as she tried to comprehend what she was reading. Her brother, Zane, accused of pushing his fiancée, Pamela, from the first-floor balcony? It was unthinkable.
Her phone buzzed with messages and missed calls, but she ignored them all, grabbing her coat and keys. She had to get to the police station. Zane needed her.
When she arrived at the downtown precinct, reporters swarmed like vultures, shouting questions and snapping photos as she approached the entrance.
“Alessia! Do you have a comment?”
“Was this an accident, or was it deliberate?”
“Is Zane Kane guilty?”
Alessia didn’t flinch. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement as she pushed through the chaos, her expression cold and unyielding. Inside, the sterile air of the police station greeted her, a stark contrast to the circus outside.
“I need to see Zane Kane,” she said firmly at the front desk.
The officer glanced at her, recognizing her immediately. “I’ll check if that’s possible. Please wait here.”
Alessia paced the small waiting area, her thoughts racing. This couldn’t be true. Zane might be impulsive, hot-headed even, but he wasn’t a killer. Pamela’s death had to be an accident, or there was more to the story. She wouldn’t believe otherwise.
The officer returned a few minutes later, motioning her forward. “You can see him now. Follow me.”
She was led to a small, gray-walled visitation room. Through the glass, she saw Zane sitting at the table, his head in his hands. His usual confident posture was gone, replaced by a defeated slump. Her heart ached at the sight.
The officer opened the door, and Zane looked up. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“Zane,” Alessia said softly as she stepped inside.
He straightened slightly, but the weight of the situation was evident in his every movement. “Alessia,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“Of course, I came,” she snapped, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. “What’s going on? What happened to Pamela?”
Zane’s jaw tightened, and he looked away. “I didn’t kill her,” he said after a long pause, his voice low but steady. “I didn’t push Pamela.”