CHAPTER FIVE

Bella's POV

“And then the same guy was there when I met with the police,” I tell Norah.

I have asked her to meet with me finally for the first time since hours before the incident.

“He was just there when I walked in. With his lawyer,” I add. She swallows down her milkshake before gasping dramatically.

“This … Oliver? Tell me what he’s really like, Bella,” she pleads with a pout.

I shake my head. And no matter how hard I try to keep a straight face while I talk about him, an involuntary smile creeps onto my face and I sigh.

“He’s gentle. And handsome. And he even though he knows about Mark, he sees me for me.”

I pause, hoping silently that she understands how much that last part truly means to me. I didn’t think I would ever be able to bear the company of another man while I was still with Mark. I still wonder if all future relationships have been ruined too.

“And?” She says expectantly. She knows I want to say more. But I’m not sure if I want to let the thoughts I have about Oliver bloom into a conversation. Once you tell your best friend how you feel about a man, it is locked in. Forever.

“There’s something much more important, Norah.”

She straightens up in her chair and I look around. We’re seated at the outer part of the bar, under a large umbrella and occupying a cute wooden round table. I don’t think we should be talking about all of this literally just beside the street. But the weather is nice today and we both want to enjoy it without worrying about nosy strangers.

“Well, the chief revealed that Mark was actually poisoned with the belladonna extract you gave me that night. And Oliver’s fingerprints were found on the vile,” I explain.

“The thought crossed my mind. Which is why I asked you if you did it when we were on the phone,” she says.

“Well, the vile fell out of my pocket at the restaurant and Oliver happened to be the kind gentleman that helped me retrieve it which should explain why his prints were on it. I was careful not to touch it the whole time because I knew what it was but he was a stranger and he was just trying to help.”

“What are the odds?” She mutters rhetorically.

We sit in silence for a few seconds, allowing it all to sink in.

“Do you think maybe he did it to himself?” Norah asks suddenly.

“What?”

“You know that man is crazy. Don’t pretend he’s not capable of doing something like that!”

“Well, I didn’t show it to him when I got home. I was too busy trying not to get beaten,” I say.

She laughs and I can’t help but laugh too. It's no joke but it sure is ridiculous enough to be funny.

“He couldn’t have known what it was,” I add when her laughter dies down.

“What if he thought it was something else and he just…”

I roll my eyes. “Great deduction skills, Norah,” I say sarcastically. She laughs again.

I take a deep breath.

Because for the first time in a long while, I feel like I can breathe.

Of course, this whole thing could go horribly but right now, at this moment, I don’t really care.

I love that Norah makes me laugh about it. Makes me see how interesting my situation is rather than frustrating. But most importantly, I feel safe. Safe to express my worries. Safe to breathe.

“At least you’re rich again,” she sighs.

“You mean at least I get to leech off of my parents again?”

“That’s literally what parents are for,” she says. “You better be spending all of that money taking care of yourself.”

“To be honest, I really am starting to feel like my luxurious self again. Except when they’re blaming me for all of this and trying to send me away.”

“Maybe you should. I certainly would. I’d take as much money as I can carry and just leave,” she says looking up as if she can already see herself halfway across the world on a beach drinking coconut water and having the time of her life.

I laugh. “What about your husband?”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” I know she’s joking. I know because she can’t survive a single minute without him and I love both of them for that.

“You know, I think I might already be having a fresh start. It’s not at all what I pictured but I want to stay and get through this as best as I can,” I conclude.

“You know I can only support you as long as what you’re choosing makes you happy,” she says. “If not, I might have to take matters into my own hands.”

“If you talk like that I’ll assume you’re the real culprit,” I joke. We both know she’s too much of a softie and would rather die than hurt even a fly.

She giggles. “You know I would own up to that shit,” she replies.

I bet she would. I bet she would have called me at 2 am to say that he was gone and I don’t have to worry about him hurting me anymore. I don’t know why but the thought of it makes me want to cry.

“I know.”

Oliver’s POV

She's not only different now. I can see her becoming herself. I can't explain why I feel so drawn to her. A part of me screams 'protect her at all cost' but a bigger part of me reminds me that she is more than capable of protecting herself after all she's been through.

Still, I find myself craving to understand her. Wishing she would trust me enough to provide the comfort she deserves after all she has been through.

How silly.

I'm not in the right position to give her anything, and it is selfish and ridiculous of me to be thinking this way.

After a brief meeting with Tristan, I struggle to get through a day in the office. A day after I met with Bella and she's all I can think about.

And while I have dinner with my fiancèe, I wonder if I should feel guilty or not.

I didn't ask to be engaged, and I haven't really done anything wrong, but an uncomfortable emotion lingers even though I can't guess what it is.

"A total of three hundred guests from my part," Amanda says. "It was truly a tough decision but I'm sure of it now. Can you guess how many guests you might invite? A rough estimate will do for now."

I clear my throat when I realise she has been talking all this while and I have tuned her out completely.

"That depends on a lot of things," I say. Even though it only depends on how I feel about the wedding by the time I have to invite people, and how this whole thing with Mark ends up.

"I'd say eighty to a hundred since you want to have so many and I don't want this to be a bigger wedding than it needs to be."

She looks at me like I've insulted her. "That's not for you to decide. I am the bride."

"Of course you are." ...which is why I don't want a wedding at all, but I shouldn't say that.

"I'll have a guest list ready for you soon," I add, making a mental note to get my assistant to do it.

I leave the table, ignoring her suggestive "goodnight, Oliver," and heading upstairs to my bedroom.

*

“Mr. Knight we have reason to believe that you have a deeper relationship with Miss Ward than you would like to admit.”

Of course, I got called back into the station.

I’m already irritated but as long as Tristan is here this will all be over in time for me to get back to work. Hopefully.

“And?” Tristan says.

“Well we’re going to need you to tell us more about you and Miss Ward,” the interrogator says.

“I believe I’ve given you all the relevant information already and this is a waste of my time and yours,” I reply.

“Where were you between 1 am and 5 am the night the victim was poisoned?”

I really don’t want to answer that. But when I glance over at Tristan, he gives me a subtle nod.

“Alright. If you want the full story, I’ll give it to you. But you have to understand that Miss Ward and I didn’t know each other prior to this incident.”

“Understood.”

“Miss Ward served me at the restaurant. That’s how I recognised her and that’s why I decided to help her,” I begin.

“Help her how?” He asks, leaning in and hanging on to my every word as if his entire career depends on it. Perhaps it does.

“I found her unconscious on the sidewalk in the middle of the night. I was heading back to my hotel after a meeting. Nothing personal, just business. So I called my driver and we took her to my hotel room.”

“And why didn’t you call the police?”

“I didn’t want to against her will. So I called my doctor instead. It was the middle of the night. Cost me a lot of money,” I reply.

Tristan is silent. Knowing him, he’s probably thinking about all the ways he can get me out of this if my statement is going to be a problem. But I understand why he might think it’s best for me to say the truth. The driver, the doctor, and Bella provide a strong alibi and I wouldn’t have had a motive if I didn’t know who she was before the incident.

“Against her will?” He asks.

“Yes. I didn’t know how she ended up there and I didn’t want to know. Especially if I could have gotten a random stranger in trouble for no reason. She didn’t want to talk about it even after she woke up so I offered her a place to stay. Out of kindness.”

He gives me a long, hard look and I stare right back into his eyes until the door opens and his colleague says, “Miss Ward’s statement matches his.”

He nods.

“Thank you. That’s all for now.” He’s about to get up when Tristan stops him.

“You already knew, didn’t you?” Tristan says. “You knew they were together that night.”

“Yes,” the chief admits.

“How?”

“How we come by our information is none of your business, sir,” he says, a little too rudely than necessary.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tristan says.

“Wait. Bella is here?” I ask, and I’m even more surprised than them at the eagerness in my tone.

“She left about an hour ago,” the policeman informs me.

I leave, Tristan following closely behind me.

“You have a thing for her don’t you?” Tristan asks as soon as we get into the car.

“What kind of lawyer asks such an inappropriate question?” I say as the driver starts the car.

Tristan, knowing I’m joking since he’s the closest thing I have to a friend, nudges me playfully. “Come on,” he teases.

“I’m engaged,” I say sternly. Noticing how forced my tone is, he laughs at me.

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have a thing for her. She’s a showstopper.”

He must be right.

How else would she have altered my pattern of thinking from the moment I laid my eyes on her?

If it’s not her beauty, it must be something else.