Page 16 of Fierce Secrets

Sofia nodded, setting the photo back with deliberate care. "Must have been hard, losing both parents. I know you were only a baby when your mom passed. At least you have Gray, and me. I guess Leo too."

Before I could respond, my phone rang. Unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Cassaro? This is Detective Warren. We need to verify your whereabouts last night. Is there any chance we can speak with you? We can come to you."

My stomach dropped. "Um, okay. Can I ask what this is about?" I stared at Sofia, who had one eyebrow arched questioningly.

"I can explain when I speak to you. Can I have your current whereabouts, we'll come round in the next several hours."

"Right. I'm at 1220 North State Parkway, the penthouse. Can you tell me anything?" My stomach flipped and knotted as Sof watched me quietly.

"We'll be around to ask some questions." The line went dead.

"What was that about?" Sofia asked as soon as I lowered the phone. "Giving out Leo's address might not be smart."

"Police. They want to know where I was last night." My hands started shaking as I moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Sof, what's going on?"

I glanced at my phone, wondering if I should tell Leo I'd just invited the cops to his place.

I should've asked him first, or offered to go to the station. Sof could've driven me.

Sofia pursed her eyes as she pulled out her phone, appearing to text someone. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." She slipped her phone away with a too-bright smile. "Now, want to know what else I brought besides clothes?"

I blinked at her sudden change of subject. "What?"

"Come with me." She pulled me off the bed as my mind whirled, trying to figure out why they'd be calling me. Gray was out of town, so it wasn't like he would've gone and visited Logan.

"Sof—"

"Hang on."

She rummaged through one of the bags out by the kitchen, pulling out face masks and nail polish. "We're going to pamper ourselves while watching trashy TV. Doctor's orders."

"The police are coming?—"

"And they'll ask their questions, and everything will be fine." She steered me toward the couch. "Now, cucumber or charcoal mask?"

I stared at her, this woman who'd dropped everything to be here, who seemed unfazed by police involvement, who waved it all off like she knew something I didn't.

"Sofia, what aren't you telling me?"

She paused, face masks in hand. For a moment, something like unease crossed her features. Then her smile was back.

"I'm telling you that your best friend is here, and we're going to make ourselves beautiful while watching Real Housewives." She waggled the masks. "So. Cucumber or charcoal?"

"Sofia, seriously, why would the police be calling?" I pulled my phone out, scrolling through the messages from Logan. They'd been constant after I'd left – pleading, apologizing, demanding. But they'd stopped abruptly last night while I was in the bath.

There'd only been that one call today, the one Sofia had blocked.

An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. "The messages from Logan stopped last night. Around nine, I think."

Sofia continued arranging face masks on the coffee table. "Maybe he finally got the hint."

"Logan doesn't take hints. He's persistent, controlling." I chewed my lip. "You don't think he reported me for something, do you?"

"Why would he report you? You didn't do anything. He's the fucker who decided to stick his sausage in some trash."

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