Page 13 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting here, but it felt like hours. My pulse had yet to settle, and it beat a relentless rhythm against my ribs.

The door creaked open, and a man stepped inside, carrying a folder under his arm. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp features and calculating eyes. His badge gleamed under the harsh fluorescent light: FBI.

He pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, flipping open the folder. “Giselle Rae.” His voice was calm butfirm, as if he already knew every answer I could give him. “I’m Special Agent Mark Fetcher.”

I swallowed. “I’d like to say it’s nice to meet you, Agent Fetcher, but I’d like to know why I’m here.”

“Well, Miss Rae, how quickly you leave here will depend on how you cooperate with us.” He tapped against a sheet of paper. “Your father was involved with Tyfun-1, a synthetic substance that, if used, can cause irreversible damage to the human body.”

“I know nothing about the substance or my father’s involvement with it,” I protested. “I said it when your men came to pick me up from my home in a robe, and I’m saying it now: I have no idea what it is!”

Agent Fetcher ignored my protest and slid a paper toward me. It was a white-and-black picture of the text Dad had sent me before he died. “Do you recognize this message?”

I swallowed. “I do.”

He nodded and retrieved the paper from me. “We’ve been trying to track the substance before it entered the country but have had no luck. After it arrived, we were able to trace it to a warehouse your father managed. Unfortunately, he was smarter and ran away with it before we got there.”

My chest constricted, and the air stalled in my lungs.

So that was it? That was really the reason he was killed? He’d lost his life over something that useless?

My eyes pooled with tears as my heart broke into a million pieces. “I don’t know what Tyfun-1 is,” I insisted amidst a broken sob. “What makes you think I somehow had an involvement in my father’s business?”

“Because you were the last person he saw the night before he died, and he sent you a very specific message. Listen, all we need to do is find the drugs, and we’ll let you go. I know he passed on whatever information he had to you in that message.”

I scoffed with frustration. “Read the message. Does it make any sense to you?”

His eyes flicked to the paper and then back to me. “No.”

I slammed my hand on the desk. “Right. I guessed so. That is exactly how it looks to me. I can’t make sense of whatever message my father was trying to pass as well.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and I could hear the sound of my blood whooshing in my ears through the silence. I held my breath, hoping I’d been able to convince him I knew nothing about the drugs because I really didn’t.

Agent Fetcher leaned forward, reducing his voice to a whisper. “Miss Rae, I hope you understand you can be charged with obstruction of justice with your refusal to cooperate.”

“Charging me won’t change anything because I really have no freaking idea what Tyfun-1 is and where my father hid it. I didn’t even know it was a substance before you said it.”

He sighed, sitting back in his chair. “Then you leave us no choice.” He snapped the folder shut, his expression shifting from friendly to cold. “You’ll be held in custody until trial. Given the weight of this case, you’ll be facing real prison time until we determine your involvement.”

My chest tightened. “Prison?”

Panic surged through me. I had no money for bail. No lawyer. No way out. Mom was still grieving; she’d be absolutely heartbroken if she found out about this, and getting a lawyer wouldn’t change anything. I could really end up behind bars for this.

The grey walls felt like they were closing in on me. I wanted to protest even more, to plead with him to let me go, but the words that came out of my mouth weren’t what I intended. “I don’t want my mother to find out about this.”

He tilted his head, his brows furrowing. “What?”

“My mother,” I repeated. “It would break her heart if she found out I was here. Please don’t call her. Find a lawyer for me if you believe I really know something about the drugs, but I can’t let my mother find out.”

He sighed and rose to his feet, ignoring my pleas.

I was even more desperate than ever for his assurance. I needed him to tell me Mom wouldn’t find out, but before I could say another word, the door swung open with a sharp creak.

An officer in uniform entered the interrogation room. He walked up to Agent Fetcher and whispered something to him.

I nearly froze in my seat when Agent Fetcher glared at me, clear disappointment clouding his gaze, and nodded.

My hands turned clammy. I was already in enough trouble as it was. I couldn’t stand anything else going wrong.

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