The detective’s eyes were cold, dead fish eyes. He didn't look like a cop; he looked like a hitman in a uniform.
"You're working with Veronica," Julian said, his voice steady despite the gun pointed at his heart. "How much did she pay you to look the other way?"
"Enough to retire early," the detective said. "Now, hands where I can see them. Both of you."
Elena’s heart was hammering so hard she thought it might explode. They were trapped. Julian was unarmed, bruised, and exhausted. They were at the mercy of a corrupt cop and a sociopathic VP.
"Do as he says, Julian," Elena whispered, gripping his arm. "Please."
Julian looked at her, then back at the detective. Slowly, he raised his hands.
"Smart move," the detective sneered. "Now, get on your knees."
Julian hesitated. "Elena doesn't
