Amelia Porter Criminal Minds Mga Nobela at Kwento

he ordered as he held the door open for me to walk through. I felt like a fraud walking through the door and waiting to be processed out. Alexander held my hand as he spoke nicely to the woman behind the counter to erase my profile from their record. “Mr Alexander Smith,” Detective James called, running towards us. He must have sighted us from afar. “She cannot leave the premises. Amelia is a prime suspect and at flight risk too. We think it's wise that she spends the night here.” Alex turned his cold emerald eyes on the detective, the one he had graced me with, few minutes ago. “She's Mrs Smith to you. Next time, do well to address her appropriately.”

“Fair enough.” The older agent remained standing. Silent. Watching. “You understand why you’re here?” the younger agent asked. “My husband tried to kill me,” Amelia said flatly. “And his cousin. I was protecting myself.” The agent opened the folder. “Your husband is dead. Shot by his own secretary. You were present during multiple federal crimes, including money laundering, bribery, witness intimidation, and obstruction.” “I was a prisoner,” Amelia snapped. “I didn’t help him. I survived him.”

He looked at Yodah. “I’m afraid, nothing much. I found Amelia’s records. But it didn’t have much information. She is a year older than Emma, and attends college at my school. Parents are the same as Emma’s—Jason Drackson, who is a businessman. He’s a human, and there is nothing supernatural about him. I didn’t get any information on her master. I checked her phone records, there was nothing. It can only mean that she was communicating with the man through mind paths. I checked the CCTVs though; she always seems to be heading somewhere on Fridays, around midnight. But the camera turned hazy at every moment when she bends a particular corner. It’s like she breaks the camera line. I left the pa

This was the moment of reckoning. Amelia glanced down at the folder in front of her. Inside were the irrefutable documents that would bring Maria to justice—details of her illegal activities, her involvement in her father’s crimes, and the horrifying truth behind the murder of Amelia’s mother. Every piece of evidence was meticulously organized, every lie Maria had spun unraveling before her.

“What are you doing here? What happened with Amelia?” “I thought we had an opening, Alpha,” the lead spy said. “Amelia has taken a job at the hospital. But Alpha Jake must have her watched. We barely had a conversation before she was whisked away.” “You saw her? You spoke to her?” “Yes, Alpha.” “What did she look like? Was she healthy? What did she say?” “She seemed healthy,” the other spy said. “No obvious signs of abuse or injury.” I nodded, that was all good, yet… with the way the spies glanced at each other, I could tell they were holding something back.

Ryan She didn’t belong on the South Side. Amelia stood beneath the flickering streetlamp in a cream wool coat. Her leather boots sank slightly into the rain-soaked gravel. She looked unreal here. Too polished. Too delicate. Like someone had taken a woman from a luxury perfume campaign and abandoned her in the middle of a battlefield. “How did you find me?” I asked. My voice came out flat. Exhausted. “You got rid of the security team.” she said, hugging her arms tightly around herself against the freezing wind, “but you forgot about the secondary tracker on the Ducati.”

It was far from the cell for underage prisoners. It is the cell of a terrorist. In that dark room, Amelia was sitting in a corner. Uncountless worms are all over the muddy floor and roaming on Amalia's body. Mosquitos are sucking blood from her body but still she didn’t bother to move because she had no strength to move. Her body was numb. There are wounds all over her body. She was too tired to move. She forgot when she got here. The last thing she remembered was being dragged into that dark room the next second she was sent to the police station that night.

Playing with their daughter. He really had changed. Week ten, everything fell apart. Rivera showed up with two police officers. “Kael Penking, you’re under arrest for parole violation.” Amelia’s heart stopped. “What violation?” “Association with known criminals. Specifically, Viktor Sokolov.” “I haven’t seen Viktor in over two years,” Penking said. “That’s not what our surveillance shows. You were seen meeting with him three days ago. Coffee shop on Fifth Avenue. Fifteen minute conversation.”

“Why are these two always at each other’s throats? Enough of this nonsense! Let’s kill them both and end it!” I gritted my teeth, pushing Uriel’s rage aside. “That’s enough,” I said coldly. “Shut down the restaurant. Make sure no one enters, and take everyone here in for questioning. I’ll decide what to do once I have all the facts.” With no clear answer about whom to trust—Hilary or Rose—I decided it was best to wait for proof. I was about to leave with Rose when a message from Marvin came through our mental link. “Alpha, we just received the lab results,” Marvin said grimly. “The soup was poisoned.”

The past she had buried, the one she had fought so hard to outrun, making sure it could never touch her again, had finally clawed its way back to the surface. Ethan had dragged it right back to the surface. And now, standing in front of Adrian Black, the man who owned power like it was stitched into his skin, she knew there was no escape. She glanced at the laptop, the damning photograph still glaring at her from the screen. The image of a girl she used to be a girl she had long since killed. Amelia crossed her arms, suddenly feeling exposed even though she was wrapped in silk. “There’s nothing to tell,” she said, forcing her voice to stay even.