𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 43: 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫?

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°°

Without a word, he removed his jacket and covered her.

“You—”. Breanna croaked, through tear-blurred eyes.

Antonio bent, and with startling ease, lifted her off the ground.

“Could that B*tch be his—kitten{Woman}?”

The casino roared, half in shock, half in thrill, as he held her like a prized possession.

Breanna resisted, wrists instinctively trying to push him away, but Antonio's grip got stronger—unshakable.

Helpless, she turned her face into his shoulder—her arms dangling weakly around his neck.

The architect of her humiliation was now carrying her as though she were something fragile.

Antonio didn’t falter until they reached his private deck.

A few more steps to the bed, he hurled her unceremoniously, careless if bone cracked on impact.

“Why were you dressed like a fucking pornstar?” His roar snapped through the room.

Breanna’s voice cracked, torn between anger and shame. “Why? Is that why you let them go this far?”

Snarling, Antonio crawled over her, iron fingers clamping her jaw.

“Be warned,” his voice was steel. “Next time, I won’t stop them.”

“You can always stand and enjoy the show” Breanna's raw throat scraped out a whisper.

His grip fell, but his face stayed unreadable.

“Brain-box,” she hissed, “you think thrashing a woman’s dignity makes you powerful—huh?”

Antonio's jaw worked. He moved to rise, but her nails hooked his shirt, dragging him back,

“That’s cowardice—letting them tear me apart just to prove I can’t touch you.” Her eyes burned into his profile.

“Don't dig into something bigger than you” Antonio managed, in a low grumble.

“You only make me wanna try harder”. Breanna seethed, releasing her grip on him.

Antonio eyed her in silence—a wolfish grin carving into his feature.

“Dumb Dora{Stupid Woman}”

He leaned away. “Since you're that desperate, here's a tip—tomato sauce tomorrow stop it if you can”

“What location?”

“A guest speaker, that’s all.” His voice was low, unhurried as he straightened from the bed. “Figure out the rest.”

“At least a name—” Breanna yapped.

“Who's the detective?" Antonio snapped. His hand clamped close to her throat and he ripped the rose pendant free, holding it up between them.

Without a word he turned, eyes locked at the exit door.

“My pendant—?”

Antonio’s steps faltered, a smug grin cutting his face.

“I’ll add it to the one you planted at the hospital… Bug master.”

Then the frost demeanor returned. Without another glance, he carried on—the door clicking shut like a verdict.

☆☆𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝐆𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭-𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞☆☆

°°°𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠°°°

Early morning sunlight spilled across the counter, catching on the rim of a steaming mug

The kitchen filled with soft hiss of oil as Nevena turned the eggs in the pan—Hair tied up, sleeves rolled past elbows.

She moved quietly, sliding the eggs onto a plate, then slicing fruit next.

The smell of breakfast was undeniable, as it wafted through the house.

The kettle whistled low and she lifted it from the stove with practiced grace.

Behind her, the sound of dragging feet broke the rhythm.

Junior shuffled into the living room, rubbing his eyes with both fists, hair sticking up like a bird’s nest.

He flopped onto a floor cushion like a sack of flour, groaning dramatically.

“Morning, Junior,” she called gently, over the tipping of hot water.

He cracked one eye open, gave a sleepy grin,

“Morning, Miss Nevena…”

he mumbled, letting the last syllable dissolve into a little snore

She smiled faintly, carrying the plates to the dining table.

One by one she laid them down—toast, eggs, a medium bowl of fruit.

Forks and spoons gleamed in their places, cups waiting to be filled.

Junior barely stirred at the clatter, sprawled as if he hadn’t slept a wink.

“Wake up Sleepyhead—you goin’ to sleep away the whole morning” Nevena teased.

Junior gave a lazy grunt, rolling onto his side, face buried in the cushion.

“Still sleepy….five more minutes,” he pleaded.

Nevena set down the last plate—mayonnaise, straightened, her tone casual, as if mentioning nothing of importance.

“Well, you might want to wake up, cause we’re going to be late for the seminar.”

The words hit Junior like a splash of cold water, for a second there was silence. Then—

He jerked upright, as if stung, all traces of drowsiness gone, eyes wide.

“Wait, we…we are? You mean—you’re really coming?”

Nevena arched an eyebrow, hiding her amusement.

“Yes—but I might have to rethink since you're sleeping”

“No you wouldn't” Junior sat tall with a smug grin, his little chest puffing with excitement.

“That's only if you’re ready on time.” Nevena spoke in an offhand tone.

Junior didn’t wait for more. In a flash he was up, bolting toward the bathroom with surprising speed for someone who, moments ago, could barely sit up.

The sound of the faucet squeaking on, water splashing, and a furious brushing followed almost immediately.

Nevena chuckled under her breath, returning to the kitchen to bring juice.

He hadn’t said a word of excitement, but his hurried footsteps spoke louder than anything else.

☆☆☆𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐇𝐪☆☆☆

°°°𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠°°°

8:45𝐀𝐦

“Sorry Ma'am , there's no seminars on record for today,” a voice on the line reports.

“Okay…thanks” Sophia muttered, switching lines. “Enchanted University HR?”

“Yes—how may I help you?”,

“Detective Sophia Kendrick, I need to know if there’s any seminars scheduled for today in the Academic board.”

“No” the voice breathes into her speaker, too quickly.

“Okay” Sophia hunched, “But don't get blamed if a murder happens" she whisper-rough.

She smirked at the raspy hitch of breath over the line, tactically she curled her hand over the headset to take it off.

“Wait, give me a minute" the person on the other end stammered.

“Take your time" Sophia's lips pressed thin—waiting.

“Are you still there?" The voice asked, after about two minutes.

“Yes" Sophia exhaled sharply.

"I combed through the databases, and I found two institutes to be hosting seminars today”.

Sophia shot Breanna a quick glance,

“That's a nice start, Um…I need a confirmation list of speakers scheduled for the seminars,” Callie said, voice clipped but polite.

“Okay, I will compile everyone on the list and forward it to your official mail-box”

“No, not just everyone—just the guest speakers.” Sophia cut in.

“Sorry ma'am—it's an internal training. So all the speakers are of New Mexican indigene”

“Oh” Sophia finished the call, jabbing for the next number on her list.

Breanna sat across her, hunched over the wide desk, stacks of manifests and call logs spread like a battlefield.

Around them, desks shove against one another—teams of uniformed officers and plainclothes detectives ripping through phonebooks.

Everyone was digging for the same ghost of a lead, clawing through Enchanted Hills’ networks for a seminar that Breanna insisted was a lead.

“Another dead end,” Sophia rolled her eyes.“Towns events office—no public seminar listed for today,”

Breanna pinched the bridge of her nose, leaning back in her chair.

The clock on the wall ticked past 8:59 AM, its second hand slicing the countdown to the hit.

“Hospitals, wedding planners, church halls, district headquarters, Corporations, each call lands in the same sticky automated polite nothingness—educational board says their correspondence only booked internal training.” Sophia listed, looking up.

“Did you check the Law Chamber?” Breanna asked.