3: Grey Eyes

Tears blurred my vision, but I could still make out the dim glow of streetlights outside the cab , casting shadows that only deepened the ache in my chest. I hugged myself, leaning into the cold leather seat, barely holding it together as the city blurred past into faded memories and fractured hopes I wish I could forget . Each sob ripped through me, leaving a raw emptiness in its wake, as if I’d drained some part of me I’d never get back.

A tissue appeared over the seat. I looked up, surprised, meeting the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. They were oddly warm, though lined with the kind of weariness that comes from years of late nights and endless fares. I took the tissue with a shaking hand, dabbing at the mess on my cheeks, knowing there was no way a thin piece of paper could fix what was broken in me.

He adjusted his rearview mirror, and our eyes met for a heartbeat. Something about him looked familiar, as if I’d seen him before, but my mind was too foggy to piece it together.

“Where to, ma’am?” His voice was gruff but gentle, as if he was careful not to shatter the fragile me.

I swallowed, my voice barely a whisper. “I… I don’t know.” I clutched my purse, scrambling for some destination that made sense. “Just… take me to the nearest motel.”

The word felt bitter on my tongue, hollow. Motel. The idea of any place feeling like home now seemed laughable.

As we drove, we passed the estate, its tall gates and pristine lawns. I couldn’t look directly, only catching a fleeting glimpse of the place I’d once thought was my forever. It held my past, my secrets, my whole broken world. I turned away, squeezing my eyes shut, pretending it didn’t hurt.

The cab rolled to a stop in front of a run-down motel, its neon sign flickering like a half-hearted promise. Paint peeled from the walls, and the lobby light cast an eerie glow that barely cut through the night. It looked as worn and tired as I felt. This wasn’t where I thought I’d be, but I swallowed hard and forced myself to step out, legs trembling.

The driver had already pulled my suitcase from the trunk as I fumbled in my purse for cash.

“Mrs Castelli?”

I turned, feeling the chill prickle along my spine. Standing a few feet away was a police officer, his badge glinting under the streetlight. His face was hard, his posture stiff.

“You’re under arrest for theft and assault against Miss Claudia Romanov.”

The words didn’t register at first then they hit like a slap. My throat tightened, air freezing in my lungs. “What?” My voice cracked, a whisper barely audible, as if someone else were speaking.

The officer didn’t even look at me, just continued in a monotone, “You have the right to remain silent…” The rest of his words faded, drowned out by the rush of blood pounding in my ears. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, my mind spinning in a foggy haze of disbelief.

I didn’t fight as he took my arm and shoved me into the back of the police car. My skin prickled under the stares from strangers on the street, their phones out, recording, capturing my fall. Tomorrow, my face would be everywhere, the headlines would eat this up—“Beauty Queen Turned Criminal Right After Husband’s Cheating Scandal.”

Inside the police station, the fluorescent lights were too bright with my heels clicking against the sterile floor. The air was thick with the scent of old coffee and stale sweat.

Corporal Reyes stood over me as I sat on the hard, cold bench, hands clasped in my lap, knuckles white.

His eyes narrowed as he sized me up. He rattled off the charges, each one landing like a fresh blow. “Assault. Theft.”

I managed to lift my head, meeting his gaze with whatever strength I could muster. “That’s… not true.” But my voice was barely there, thin and broken, like even it didn’t believe me.

He raised an eyebrow, an amused sneer tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh, is that so?” His tone dripped with doubt, as though he’d heard it all before, and he wasn’t about to believe a word of it.

I clenched my hands, nails biting into my palms. “I didn’t do any of it. Marco and Claudia… they set me up.” The words tasted bitter, but I pushed them out anyway, hoping he’d see something in my eyes, some flicker of truth.

He crossed his arms, leaning back with a sneer. “Right. And I’m supposed to take your word for it?”

He raised an eyebrow. "Care to explain the bruises on her face and the missing item?"

He pulled out a file from the stack on his desk. "Miss Romanov reports that you stole a valuable watch from her during a family dinner. And then, when confronted, you assaulted her."

I shook my head, trying to clear the haze. "That's not what happened. Claudia and I... we had a disagreement,. But I certainly didn't steal anything." Reyes's expression turned skeptical. "A disagreement? That's an interesting choice of words. Witnesses say it was more than that. They say you were furious, violent."

Fuck you Marco. Fuck you Helena.

He leaned forward, his eyes boring into mine. "Tell me, what exactly were you arguing about?"

My gaze dropped to the table, the cold metal pressing into my skin. I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “Can I… have some water?”

Reyes laughed, low and hollow. “Water? This isn’t a five-star resort, princess. You want comfort, you’re in the wrong place.”

I bit down on my lip, fighting the sting in my eyes. I’d never felt so… stripped bare, every inch of dignity peeled away, layer by painful layer.

"I need a lawyer," I tell him, trying to sound steadier than I felt.

Reyes snorted. "Of course you do. That's what guilty people always say. 'I need a lawyer.' Like it's a magic shield to hide behind."

He leaned forward, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, I've heard that line so many times, it's lost its charm. 'I'm innocent, I need a lawyer.' Save it for the judge, sweetheart. You're not fooling anyone here."

He leaned back, arms crossed, a smug look spreading across his face. "You want to play that game? Fine. We'll get you a lawyer. But it won't change the facts. You're going down for this."

He slammed the door shut and left.

Eventually, Reyes returned after a while , an irritated frown on his face. “Good news for you, princess. Someone bailed you out.”

I looked up, a flicker of confusion sparking through the haze. “Who?”

He shoved my purse toward me, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. Guess you’re luckier than you look.”

Outside, the sun hit me like a slap, cool and stinging against my flushed skin. I stumbled, my heels scraping against the pavement, eyes blurring as I searched the empty street. I realized I hadn’t seen my suitcase—or the driver from earlier. I hadn’t even thought to pay him. Guilt gnawed at me, but I was too numb to think clearly

As I stepped down the stairs, a wave of dizziness washed over me, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision. My legs wobbled, my balance slipping until—

Two strong hands caught me, firm yet gentle, pulling me back from the brink. I inhaled sharply, my senses flooded with the warm, musky scent of smoke and cedar, something earthy and familiar. Slowly, I looked up, my gaze locking onto storm-gray eyes, framed by hair dark as midnight.

In that moment, everything else faded, leaving only the warmth of his hands, the roughness of his jacket under my fingers. His face blurred, but those eyes… they were the only real thing left as the darkness pulled me under