His Wife My sins

|Seven|

"Excuse me? I'm under arrest?" My tone was laced with poison. "Yes Gates. Now, we can do this the easy boring way, or you could refuse arrest and I get a few hits in, the choice is yours. Doesn't matter which you choose, you're leaving here with me kid."
A sigh escaped me. I stood with poise before making my way over to him. I reached his feet and my gaze lifted to meet his. My hands rose and the cold metal handcuffs now dangled from my wrists. "May I ask, on what terms?" His eyes met mine and a smirk graced his hairy lips.
"For the murder of Abbygale Winter."

I see. So, she died. It must have happened after I left. Which could only mean she didn't leave right after I did. Whoever killed her knew she would be in my room. They knew where she was, and they no doubt knew who I was.

So, her name was Abigale. Well, at least I got the answer to one of the questions that has plagued my subconscious since this morning. If I play my cards right, I may end up getting all the answers I needed.
I stepped with grace as they ushered me out my office and into the back of the squad car. Whoever had the audacity to pull off a murder in my hotel room was either a damn genius, or a God damn novice. They barely succeeded in framing me. Pitiful. Still, I have to commend them for their efforts. They were almost Successful, but almost doesn't cut it.

"Well Gates? Care to tell us what happened?" Chang was now seated in front of me. His hand rested on the metal table and his fingers were intertwined. He looked at me with a smug gaze, almost proud. Seems he really had a vendetta against my father. Poor old fool, this grudge will be the death of him. My father won't even batt an eyelash in his direction. He probably thought father would come storming down here at the mention of my arrest.

That old fart would more likely have a grin on his disgusting lips from ear to ear, sipping whiskey and getting his soggy balls licked on by his whore Gia. Living his best life. He would never come down here. Sully his Italian leather shoes with the dirt on these grounds? Never. He doesn't have it in him. "I'll speak when my attorney gets here." I replied killing the conversation. There was really nothing else they could do. I knew my rights, and they were aware of this. As impressed as I was at this murder I was still concerned. It could have been anybody. Quite literally anyone.

From those who I got rid of, to all those who were unfortunate enough to be enemies of my father. The possibilities were endless. Who would have something to hold against me? Who would want to get me out of the way so badly they'd staged the most convincing murder of all times? Who would it benefit the most to have me behind bars? These were all questions that ran across my mind constantly. I needed to know. I had to know. In all honesty I had a few people in mind. Starting with non-other than Gia herself.

She had the most to gain from me not being around. From the will stunt she pulled this morning, to randomly popping by my office unannounced. Her paws were all over this. I bet she thought the best way to get me out of her way was to frame me for the death of that girl. Then again, Gia doesn't strike me as the sharpest tool in the shed. Still can't rule her out, not just yet. Then there's father. There's nothing more he would love than to see me suffer. He would relish in every second of it; but putting me behind bars is a bit extreme, even for him. At the same time, I still refuse to rule any one out.
It's too risky, and foolish may I add.

"You're free to go Gates". Chang's frame was posed at the door casting a shadow on the filthy marble floors. There was disappointment in his tone, and I could understand why; but there's no prison out there that could hold me. "You made bail." He muttered as I stood slowly. I buttoned my trousers at the waist before striding with poise to his feet. In the corner of my eye was a man with anger burned into his skin. "I'll be watching Gates."
"I don't doubt it." I left his side and was now on my way out the door. Police stations always seem to put me in such a bad mood. With a push of the 2-ton bronze door, I was outside breathing in the busy air of the city that I loved so much. What beauty you possess.
On my right a bundle of crawling bodies that hurried through the streets. On my left were cabbies calling to passing strangers and bustling students who were no doubt about to miss their train. In front of me was a parked vehicle. One that I could spot from a mile. I knew every groove engraved in the wheels, I knew the smell of the leather and the wine stains on the dashboard. William was here.