Page 8 of Vermilion Desire

I park the car in the visitor’s slot and unbuckle my seatbelt as she jumps out of the car. She waits for me as I lock the car and walk with her to the facility. Its foundation color is neutral, nothing too harsh on the eyes, nor does it stand out other than being a heavily secured building.

The furthest I can walk with her is the entrance with a guard standing there, ready to step in if I dare to put one foot into the automatic double sliding doors.

Scarletta waves at the guard and he waves back, and I want to smack the smug smile off his lips. Or maybe I’m just reading too much into facial expressions. Anyone who looks at my Scarletta with more than a friendly gaze tug at the chains in me.

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Wolf!” She stands on her toes, pulling at the back of my neck to plant a kiss on my cheek.

“I’ll call you when I’m done!” Scarletta runs in with a wave of her hand over her head before she disappears out of my view.

I haven’t come around to understand what just happened, but I still feel the softness of her pink lips on me and the smell of sweetness.

She’s really trying to kill me.

Chapter Three

Scarletta

“What’re you looking at?” Beth Senior presses her face to mine as my eyes read over the lines.

She snorts, kneading my shoulders. “Ah, I didn’t think you’d be the type to fall for Catholic schoolboys.”

“I’m not.” I look over the picture again.

The man is young, near his late twenties, with his hair combed to the side. Braxton Berkshire has a distinctive appearance, but it’s also average. Maybe I’m biased, and I have Mr. Wolf as a standard to compare all the men I see, but I don’t find Braxton any more attractive than an average man.

“It’s a shame that he has been accused of a horrible crime,” she murmurs.

I peek at her through the corner of my eyes, searching the hidden message in her tone as she hums again. She’s a curvy woman with symmetrical features, almost close to celebrity measurements if she was interested in shallow fame.

“Are you suggesting he didn’t do it?” I question, my finger scrolling down the page with the mouse.

“I’m a woman of science,” she remarks in such calmness that it’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking about. “The evidence will direct me to the truth.”

“And if the truth is not satisfactory?” I gauge her reaction briefly before I click on another link to read into his family history.

His mother passed away from ovarian cancer, and his father has fallen ill to a family illness that isn’t disclosed to the public. It’s the doing of his lawyers and for the sake of patient’s privacy.

That doesn’t stop the prying cameras of reporters from digging dirt to expose one of the most prominent families in the tri-state area.

If I had to guess, the Berkshire family runs up to one of the most famous generations in the world. Every offspring has done something incredible, and I wonder if that has to do with genetics or their upbringing because they have everything at their disposal.

“The truth is the truth. You cannot twist it to your satisfaction because it does not please you. That’s what sin is.”

I smile, watching the happy family photo of the Berkshire family. It doesn’t please me because I want to have the family of the victim suffer, but because the Berkshire family had caused more needless stress to my Mr. Wolf than I would have liked in a case of murder.

The criminal justice system is built for the rich. That is a fact proven over time, and through the outcomes of corruption, money can buy everything. I appreciate those who believe in justice and want to walk on the path of righteousness, but it’s a losing battle until someone makes an example out the Berkshire.

It’s a warning to those who live with their noses turned up that they aren’t untouchable.

Cal wants to be that someone who could change the police force. I have seen him fall deeper into a hole of self-destruction every time a case falls apart because rich people have money, and psychopaths are sadists.

I’m afraid this is going to be the case that’s going to break Cal’s back and haunt him for the rest of his life.

I want to help him. As a research student, I have little interest in the justice system. Nevertheless, research is the same across the board. Anything I can do to help Cal will lessen the burden that he carries despite pretending to be alright in front of me.

“Where is your conscience?” I mock lightly.

She slaps my back with a huff; the jolt forces me to click on an advertisement. If I get a virus, then it’s the research facility’s problem to solve it. Accidents happen, and the best I can do is nothing since I wouldn’t know if it contains any virus at all.

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