TWISTED ꜜ LOUIS PARTRIDGE

⟾ 5 | TEAM DAGGER

LOUIS 🗡

Wednesday, 7:54pm

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SHE WASN'T LYING.

That God-awful, terrible, criminal, manipulative [y/n] Ash wasn't lying when she said she had an alibi. I wanted to kick something. Break something. It just wasn't bloody fair, and it didn't make sense.

After she left me standing humiliated (again) in the dark alley, I stormed my way over to the nearest Greggs' shop and managed to get a copy of the security footage from the past two hours.

And at exactly 2:35pm, the time of the bomb's detonation, I watched as [y/n] Ash bought a ham sandwich from the store counter and unwrapped it with a smile on her face. She had no explosive trigger in her hand—just that damn sandwich—and she was five blocks away from the site.

There was no possible way she could have done it, and it didn't matter if someone else did, because it wasn't her.

And I wanted her.

But what was the tip of the iceberg was that when she left to leave the shop, she stopped in her tracks, tilting her head to look straight into the security camera's lense. And at the exact second the bomb went off, she winked. I could see the truth in her eyes, but I couldn't prove that she did it.

"I'm going to kill her," I spat out, storming into my office, "she's bloody insane."

William didn't even look up from his computer. "Insanity isn't a bad trait."

"Are you seriously defending her?"

"Everyone is innocent until proven guilty," the man said, tapping his finger against the desk, "and you clearly haven't found the proof to accuse her of it."

"She tied me to a chair!"

"Technically, that's not illegal."

"I'm done with you," I frowned, furrowing my brows, "you're supposed to be on my side here, and you're acting like she's innocent."

William rolled his eyes, glancing briefly to the mirror behind me as if he was asking 'do I need it or not?', but the answer was no. I wasn't angry, I was pissed. There's a difference. And I was doing better at controlling it appearance-wise.

"For all I know, she doesn't exist," he shrugged, standing up from his chair, "no one except for you has seen her, she has no records in our files, and we received a report this morning that Robert and Martha Ash are currently on vacation in Barbados—which is halfway across the world, and means the Ash Family is not involved in this."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.

"So you need to learn how to separate one case from another, so you don't lose focus," he continued, "and if you really think this girl is a threat, then maybe you should do something other than complaining about it."

He was right.

I let my temper get to my head, because something about her made me feel wretched inside. I barely knew her, but I didn't have to know her. I knew her type—reckless criminals—and I knew what they were capable of. What she was capable of.

And yes, she was a threat.

A dangerous one.

"Arrange a meeting with the board," I said, swinging open the door to my office, "there's something we need to do."

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