Under Suspicion Series Novels & Stories

“But neither did I. And now… I have to watch. Watch and wait. And maybe… maybe I’ll understand it before it’s too late.” We sat in silence after that. Neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. The city outside was quiet, but inside the apartment, tension thrummed in the air like an unspoken current, pulling us in directions we weren’t ready to face. The letter still lay on the table, untouched by her hands, a silent warning of the storm that was coming. And I knew… that storm was going to change everything. Because now, suspicion had been planted. Doubt had seeped into my mind. And no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t ignore it.

I moved through it and let it move through me and arrived at the penthouse building still carrying everything I had walked into the morning with. Confirmation didn't lighten a thing. That was what I had not anticipated. I had spent nineteen years operating on suspicion — on the anonymous tip and the thin public record and the closed case and the retired investigator's suspiciously funded property in the south. Suspicion had a quality of incompleteness that could be managed. There was always the theoretical possibility, however small, however contrary to everything available evidence suggested, that the suspicion was wrong. That possibility had never been realistic. But it had been present, a

"Keep playing it exactly like that. It will soon be old news." I sit on the edge of the chair. "I don't think it will be old news anytime soon. Cole strongly suspects me." "Cole suspects everyone right now. That's not the same thing as evidence." She uncrosses her ankles and leans forward. "He has nothing concrete or he would have already moved. What he has is grief and anger looking for a direction. As long as you stay calm and consistent, suspicion is all it will ever be." "He looks at me differently."

“This is a tricky one, but we’ll get to the bottom of it.” I shook his hand, the rough texture of his palm a stark contrast to the smooth silk of Laura’s dresses. As I left the coffee shop and stepped back out into the harsh glare of the early afternoon sun, a heavy weight settled in my chest. The missing funds were a serious problem, but the thought of betrayal, of someone close to me being responsible, was even more disturbing. I had to trust Miles, trust that he would uncover the truth, whatever it might be. But the uncertainty gnawed at me. Who was the thief? Was Arnold really the criminal? The question lingered, unanswered, as I headed back to the company, the weight of suspicion now a

“I’ll do the test.” Relief and dread crash into me at the same time. This isn’t just about him. This is about Andre. About Julia. About the babies that tied all of us together in ways none of us understood. And for the first time since I left New York— I’m no longer just afraid. I’m suspicious. And suspicion is far more dangerous than fear. The word suspicious lingers in my chest long after we stop talking. It changes the temperature of everything. Ethan stands and begins pacing again, slower this time, thinking instead of reacting.

Howard had only given her a terrifying warning in exchange for no confession. But even with his fierce denials and his terrifying threats, Susann couldn't get rid of the feeling that he was responsible for Edward Sanchez's passing. The suspicion lingered in her mind like a sneaky, persistent whisper that would not go away. His hands were somehow tarnished by this tragedy, either directly or indirectly, and she knew it from the bottom of her heart.

Double Cross Isabelle's POV While Carlos and I pretty much were picking our way carefully through a brittle truce, truth got entangled—an undercurrents of mistrust and suspicion run too deep underneath. Morris was back in our lives, busy with Carlos, planning an appeal that hung over us all like the sword of Damocles. I played the supportive wife, but my stomach twisted with each glimpse of the two of them huddled together in strategy sessions. Not to forget Allison—always there to remind me things were not just as they seemed.

She sipped the juice until all was gone but before she could open the water, her vision went black. When Suzie opened her eyes again, she felt dog tired. She opened her eyes and much to her surprise, she was in a hospital room. She tried to sit up only to find out she was strapped to the bed. “What the hell?” She exclaimed. “Ah the lovely Suzie has awoken. Now let’s skip the pleasantries. You are going to die, but not yet. You tortured my son until he screamed for you to kill him. There are five other people waiting to take a crack at you, you won’t survive, we are too angry at you. Now, I will give you a few minutes to get your soul in order, not that you have one.”

Samantha's POV Suspicion tugged at my heart the moment Adams said those words, but I didn’t speak. I shook it off until I noticed Alaric watching me. When I turned to him, I saw the same suspicion in his eyes. I refused to acknowledge it, the idea was simply unthinkable. I had known Adams my entire life. He could never be the person we were thinking he was. “What?” I asked. Alaric just looked at me, expecting me to say something. “Don’t you find it suspicious?”

The particular tone of someone who has been sitting with a suspicion long enough that it has become a conviction. He suspects Dex. Maybe he has suspected for a while. I don’t know what to do with that. The girl I was at nineteen would have felt something uncomplicated about it, relief maybe, or vindication. The person I am now just lies here and turns it over carefully like something that could still cut. Suspicion is not the same as knowing. And knowing is not the same as what he should have done two years ago, which was not suspect me in the first place. I close my eyes.