Page 142 of Railing the Billionaire

LAYANA

The stale scent of dirty mop water filled my nose as I tapped my foot impatiently. How much longer were they going to keep me trapped in this prison of laminate tile and flickering fluorescent lights? I'd been waiting for what felt like an eternity, but according to the ticking second hand on the blank-faced clock hanging crooked on the wall, it had only been a couple of hours.

A couple of hours was too long when I was the victim here.

A criminal had broken into my apartment and stolen my most prized possession—my laptop—and what had the police done? Kept me waiting at their station based on the ludicrous accusations of my trash landlord Maxim Loughty.

That hairy ape had the audacity to claim I'd threatened his life. As if. He was the one who’d sneaked into my home and threatened me. I had merely suggested I would harm his jerk face right back. I wouldn’t actually go through with it. The worst thing I’d do was put dead fish under his rug, maybe hide a cheap but waterproof watch under the lid of his toilet to go off at two in the morning.

Anything bad that happened to Maxim Loughty, he deserved.

He stole my freaking laptop.But did Officer McPastyFace sitting smugly behind the desk care? No. He cared more about a yeti’s lies than about helping me.

I crossed my arms and blew out an exasperated breath. This was ridiculous. I had half a mind to march right out of here. It wasn't like I was under arrest. I'd come of my own free will. If I left, what could they even do?

A door opened, and Maxim emerged looking far too pleased with himself. He shot me a sinister sneer. “Have fun clearin’ your name, sweetcheeks.”

My skin crawled. I gritted my teeth and said nothing as he passed. If he wanted a reaction, he wasn't going to get one. Once his back was turned though, the look I gave him was deadly. Maybe I would do the fish thing. Maybe I’d ask the WTW crew what I could do that was worse. If anyone would have a weirdly disturbing idea for revenge, it’d be Chester.

Finally, an officer called my name. I shot up from my seat and followed him through the door Maxim had come from. We passed empty interview rooms until we reached one at the end of the hall occupied by a woman in a pantsuit. She had a no-nonsense bun and cheekbones I’d kill for, not that I’d say that out loud given my current circumstances.

“Have a seat, Ms. Hartley,” she said.

I sat and crossed my arms again. "Are we finally going to discuss the break-in and theft of my property?"

She clicked her pen and stared down at a notepad. “You filed a complaint alleging Maxim Loughty threatened you and stole your laptop. Is that correct?”

“Yes.” I gave a sharp nod to emphasize my point.

“And Mr. Loughty filed a complaint that you threatened his life. That you told him you would be ‘lurking in his home in the middle of the night’ and warned him not to speak to you again or you'd 'make him regret it.’”

I waved my hand. “I’m not the bad guy here. Ask anyone in the building. He’s the one who broke into my place,twice.”

The officer raised a brow. “Mr. Loughty seems rather shaken up by the experience.”

I snorted. “Yeah right.”

The officer's lip twitched.

This wasn’t going right. I wasn’t saying this right, or they’d understand.

“Listen, Maxim has been making my life, and the lives of everyone else who ever met him, miserable for ages. And I would never hurt anyone. Now about my stolen laptop?—”

“Do you have any evidence Mr. Loughty stole from you?”

“I’m sure it’s in his apartment, if you’d just look in there, you’ll find it.” Unless he already pawned it.What if he already pawned it?

If it was gone forever, some of my writing would be lost, because I was not as on top of backing things up as I should have been. But, the one good thing in all of this—at least my laptop was password protected. Only an idiot didn’t lock their shit down.

The officer clasped her hands together on the table. “Without evidence of a crime, our hands are tied. We have your complaint on file in case evidence arises to corroborate your claims. In the meantime, refrain from engaging with Mr. Loughty, and avoid any more...misunderstandings.”

She rose from her seat.

“So that's it?” I asked. “You’re not going to help me?”

“You’re free to go.”

I wanted to scream. This was so unfair.

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