Chapter: 3
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Alex's POV
"So you weren't home at the time of the murder?"
I nodded, trying my best to stay calm. I was currently being investigated for the landlord's murder, just like every other tenant in the building.
After that night, the man left without even giving me his name, and he handed me a bundle of hundred dollar bills and ordered me to stay in a hotel till the investigation blew over. I still didn't know why he killed Mr. Gerald, did they know each other? Or was he just a mindless serial killer?
Either way. I was fucked. Because now I was associated with him.
"…from this day on, your life is no longer yours."
His words lingered on my mind and gawned at my conscience, robbing me of any semblance of peace I had left. Not that there was much in the first place. But still.
My throat still hurt from the assault, and I couldn't help but feel ashamed. I was alive, yes. But at what cost? Now I was in the police station, lying through my teeth about a murder I witnessed with my own eyes.
Something in me wanted to just say the truth, to lift the burden off my chest, but I doubt the police would grant me protection against the consequences of that choice. I had just escaped death, but I was still trapped in the hands of its messenger.
That man. Whoever he is, would find me and finish the job if I slipped up.
"Sir?"
I snapped back to reality, mentally cursing myself for spacing out. "Sorry, what did you say? " I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly, and the policeman gave me a skeptical look.
"I said you would need to write an official statement. "
"Oh okay."
After going through the process I was finally free to go, but then the investigator called me back.
"Oh and one more thing."
I stiffened in my seat as his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"What happened to your neck?"
My hands instinctively reached for my neck, and I realized my top collar button had come undone. Shit. The bruises. Although faint, they still lingered, and I thought I did a good job of covering them up.
"From your statement, you said you slept at a hotel after clocking out late from work, but those marks aren't something you get from sleeping."
I let out an awkward chuckle, my mind scrambling for a reasonable excuse. I had to think of something. And fast.
"I…didn't just sleep," I muttered. The investigator arched a brow, suddenly intrigued.
"I…met my boyfriend….in the hotel, and he got…a little rough" I can't believe I'm saying this. My face flushed with embarrassment, but it wasn't enough to convince the investigator.
He propped his elbows on the table, pulling a diplomatic smile. "Then why don't you call in your boyfriend to testify? It could serve as a concrete alibi."
My breath caught in my throat. I'm fucked now.
"Go on." The investigator gestured to my phone, and I hesitated before taking it from the table.
What do I do? What do I do? Who do I call?
My fingers trembled as I dialed random numbers on the phone, but before I could hit the call button, the door flung open. The air in the room shifted, and the investigator sprung to his feet, putting his guard up.
"Can I help you?"
"I'm here for him."
I stilled on hearing the familiar voice, the hairs on the back of my head standing erect. I hated how I knew who it was, yet I wanted to believe otherwise.
I finally turned, feeling my guts twist into knots.
It was him.
His presence filled the room, dark and suffocating. He stood in the doorway with his hands tucked in his expensive coat, his expression giving nothing away. In broad daylight, he looked like a respectable businessman, a huge contrast to the image I had of him.
I could only wonder what kind of boldness he possessed to waltz into a police station without care.
Or could he have connections to the police?
He glanced at me, but I avoided his gaze, keeping my head low.
The investigators looked between both of us, contemplating. "Who are you and what's your relationship to Mr Alex?"
The man smiled, easing the hard lines of his face. For a moment he looked normal, just like any other person. But I knew better. "I'm Luca Moon, Alex's boyfriend."
I nearly choked.
Could he have heard what I said?!
The man strode forward, facing the detective. "Don't you think it's wrong to interrogate him like this without a lawyer?" Although his tone was polite, it held an undertone of coldness.
The investigator sighed, already growing tired. "I guess your story checks out. You can go, Mr. Alex."
As we made our way out of the station, I overheard some officers talking over a cup of coffee.
"They said the man committed suicide in his room." One said.
"We checked the tenant's rooms, but it was normal, yet we couldn't find the gun he shot himself with."
I stole a glance at the mysterious man, knowing he was behind it. If not I would've been a prime suspect. But I'm sure he didn't do it for my sake. Luca Moon. Could that be his real name or an alias?
Luca said nothing as we reached the parking lot, and I gulped as I caught sight of the sleek BMW. No doubt it belonged to him.
"Get in." He ordered, and I looked up at him. A thousand questions brewed at the tip of my tongue, but his glare silenced any form of resistance.
I got in without question. I have never been the religious type, but as he started the car, I silently prayed for my safety.
***
We pulled up in an underground parking lot of a luxurious building, and my heart raced as he parked the car in a reserved spot.
"Out." He demanded, his voice devoid of emotion. I did as I was told, following closely behind him as he walked to a sleek elevator.
The elevator doors slid open, and the moment we stepped inside he pressed the top floor button. A penthouse suite. Of course. I wasn't even surprised.
I stole a glance at him, trying to gauge his expression, but it was eerily calm—detached and calculated.
"You're not going to kill me are you?" I finally summoned the courage to muster, and he merely glanced at me, his lips curving into a smirk.
"That depends."
The doors slid open with a soft ding, and he stepped out. I hesitantly followed his lead, and we arrived at our destination. My eyes widened in awe, a soft gasp leaving my lips as I took in the sight before me.
The penthouse screamed expensive elegance, like something out of a billionaire's fantasy. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city below, and his taste was reflected in the sleek black furniture. The open kitchen looked like it had never been used before and a low fire burned in the modern fireplace.
It was beautiful, but it lacked the warmth of a home.
He shrugged off his coat, his defined muscles flexing under the thin fabric of his shirt. After placing it on the couch, he turned to me with a predatory gleam in his eyes.
"You'll be staying here from now on."