Chapter 8
The subterranean levels of the Whitestone estate were a labyrinth of cold concrete, heavy steel doors, and shadows. The air was damp and smelled heavily of earth and iron, a stark contrast to the luxurious ivory-paneled walls above. Callum descended the concrete stairs, his polished leather shoes echoing methodically in the grim silence.
He approached the heavy iron door at the end of the corridor. Two armed guards stood at attention, nodding respectfully as he approached.
“Is she awake?” Callum asked quietly.
“Hasn't stopped crying since we put her in there, Boss,” one of the guards replied, pulling a heavy ring of keys from his belt and unlocking the deadbolts with a loud, metallic clank.
Callum pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the cell.
The room was lit by a single, harsh fluorescent bulb. Juliette was huddled in the corner on a crude military cot. Her sculpted satin evening gown was completely ruined, stained with dirt and torn at the seams. Her diamond earrings were gone, stripped away by the guards. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face streaked with ruined makeup and sheer terror.
When she saw Callum, she scrambled off the cot, falling to her knees on the cold concrete.
“Callum! Please!” Juliette sobbed hysterically, crawling toward him. “I’ve been down here all night! It’s freezing! You’ve made your point! Just let me go home!”
“Do you believe your suffering absolves you of your crimes?” Callum asked, standing perfectly still, an impenetrable monolith of dark wool and quiet fury.
“I didn't commit a crime!” she shrieked, grasping at the hem of his tailored trousers. “I was disciplining your child! My family will not stand for this! Silas will come for me!”
“Did you think your brother’s visit this morning would secure your release?” Callum inquired, stepping back to avoid her desperate touch.
Juliette gasped, looking up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. “Silas was here? What did you do to him? If you hurt my brother, my father will slaughter everyone in this house!”
“Will he slaughter his own men to reach me?” Callum asked, his cold, watchful eyes boring into her soul. “How did you manage to chain my son to a chair during a crowded dinner party without my perimeter security noticing the chain being brought into the room?”
Juliette froze. The frantic sobbing stopped instantly. Her eyes darted around the concrete walls, desperately looking for a lie that could save her.
“I... I brought it in my purse,” Juliette stammered.
“Do you expect me to believe a heavy iron chain and padlock fit into a satin clutch?” Callum asked, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly whisper. “Who unlocked the security doors for you, Juliette? Who turned a blind eye while you tortured my son?”
“No one!” she cried, shaking her head violently. “I did it alone!”
“Are you willing to die to protect a traitor in my ranks?” Callum asked, taking a slow, deliberate step toward her. The sheer menace radiating from his broad shoulders was suffocating.
Juliette collapsed onto the floor, weeping uncontrollably, the last shreds of her aristocratic arrogance completely shattered by the absolute certainty of her impending doom.
“It was Rossi!” Juliette screamed, betraying her accomplice without hesitation. “Rossi let me bring it in! He said he would look the other way if my father paid him off! Please, Callum! It was his idea to use the chain! He said it would keep Ellis quiet!”
“Do you truly believe passing the blame to a dead man will save your life?” Callum asked.
“He’s not dead!” Juliette sobbed.
“Is he not?” Callum inquired softly.
May you like
He turned his back on the weeping woman, his jaw set in a sharp, unforgiving line. He stepped out of the cell, the heavy iron door slamming shut behind him, plunging Juliette back into the nightmare she had created for his son.
“Marcus,” Callum said, looking at his underboss waiting in the corridor. “Will you bring Rossi to the interrogation room immediately?”
