~Reynold’s POV~
"For breaking into my apartment behind my back," Thomas snapped, pointing a shaking finger at me. "You did it just to steal from me."
I stared at him, the blood draining from my face.
"What— What are you talking about?
Thomas didn’t bother answering. He turned to the officer. "Take the thief away."
I took a step back, my hands trembling. "I haven’t done anything wrong."
The officer looked at me with a cold, unyielding expression. "You’ll have to come with us for questioning."
"No, I won’t go anywhere with you," I protested, my voice rising. "I haven’t done anything wrong!"
Thomas stepped forward and shoved me hard in the chest. "You thief! My diamond necklace is missing from my room, and you’re the only person who had a reason to steal it." His expression hardened. "And I found out today that you already paid your tuition fees. I called Father and asked if he had paid them for you, but he said no."
His eyes narrowed in bitter triumph. "So how did you manage to make the payment? We both know you have no job, and you’re nothing without us. How on earth did you pay?"
I fell silent for a moment. I couldn’t possibly tell him how I got the money, not without confessing the humiliating truth of how I had earned every cent. When I finally spoke, my voice was tight.
"It’s my money, and I did not steal anything from you."
Right at that moment, another car pulled up beside the curb, its headlights cutting through the darkness. Deacon and Thomas’s friend, Remmy, stepped out.
Remy had always shown interest in me, making it obvious that he liked me, which I found incredibly annoying. He was an arrogant playboy, and I wanted nothing to do with him. Still, I couldn’t deny that he had stepped in to protect me from Thomas’s cruelty more than once.
Remmy hurried forward, immediately cutting in. "I told you I’d buy you a new necklace, Thomas. Why do you have to get him arrested over this?"
Thomas glared at him. "No. I have to teach him a lesson."
Deacon stepped closer, his expression pleading. "Brother, please. You know he has no one. If you arrest him now, no one will come for him, and he’s going to rot in jail forever. Why can’t you just forgive him?"
"Never," Thomas snapped, shaking his head. "He stole from me. Either he gives it back right now, or he gets arrested."
"I told you, I didn’t take anything from you!" I shouted back.
Thomas sneered, his gaze turning venomous. "Your mother was a homewrecker who tried to steal my father away from my mom. She got pregnant with you, and karma hit her hard, she ended up with a mental illness. I know she passed that thieving habit down to you. It’s in your blood, taking things that never belonged to you."
I looked away, numb. It wasn’t the first time I had heard him use my mother and her past against me. Everyone standing there, except the officer, had heard Thomas say things like this to me many times before. His words didn’t shock me anymore.
I simply looked at him with a blank expression. "Please, Thomas... I didn’t take it."
Julian stepped up beside me, his voice shaking with disbelief. "Thomas, isn’t Reynold your brother? What kind of monster treats his own brother this way?"
Thomas shot Julian a withering glare. "Shut your mouth, you mosquito. Reynold is no brother of mine. Officer, take him away."
The officers moved in, grabbing my arms. I stopped fighting, realizing how useless it was. I looked over at Julian, offering a weak, reassuring nod. "I’ll be fine."
Then I let them lead me away.
I hadn’t done anything wrong. This was all a malicious lie, but in a world where Thomas held all the cards, who would ever believe me?
The drive to the precinct was short. Not long after we arrived, Thomas swept inside, instructing the desk sergeant not to let me go until I confessed where I had hidden the diamond necklace. Then, satisfied with his cruelty, he turned and left.
An officer led me into a small, sterile room for questioning. He asked if I had gone to Thomas’s apartment.
"Yes," I answered honestly. "That’s where I live with my brothers. I only went there to pick up some files I needed for my university registration so I could clear my tuition."
The officer leaned back. "Do you have any witnesses?"
I shook my head slowly. "No."
"You won’t be going home tonight," the officer said flatly. "You have one chance to make a phone call. Is there anyone you can call?"
I stared down at the metal table, the silence pressing heavily against my ribs. I didn’t even have the energy to cry. My first thought flashed to Frederick, but his penthouse was hours away. Why on earth would a powerful man like him bother driving all the way here so late at night for someone like me? Someone he clearly viewed as nothing more than a convenient toy. I can’t call him.
Then, my thoughts drifted to my father. Even if the drive was long, he was still my father. Surely he wouldn’t leave his own son to rot in a holding cell.
"I’ll call my father," I told the officer.
They handed me the desk phone with a stern warning. My hands shook as I punched in the numbers. When the line connected, my father picked up on the third ring. I rushed into it, pouring out everything that had happened, explaining the false accusation and the police station.
My father let me finish entirely. Then, in a cold, indifferent tone, he said, "Reynold, I’m busy right now." In the background, I could distinctly hear his wife’s sharp voice hissing at him to just hang up the phone.
"I’m busy right now," my father repeated. "I might come next week. Just tell them where you put your brother’s necklace. Even if you sold it, tell them where the money is. Once they get it back, your brother might forgive you and you can be released."
"I don’t know anything about it!" I cried out, panic seizing my chest.
"I have to go now," my father cut in dismissively. "Cooperate with the police."
"Father, wait—please—"
Click.
The line went dead.
The police officer standing by the door raised an eyebrow. "Is anyone coming for you?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat and slowly shook my head. "No."
"Then you’ll have to wait here until morning," the officer instructed, gesturing toward the intake desk. "Empty your pockets. Drop everything you’re carrying."
I reached into my pockets, pulling out my wallet, my phone, and finally placing the debit card and the silver chain Frederick had given me onto the counter. Once I was stripped of everything, they shoved me back toward the cell block and locked me behind the heavy iron bars.
I sank onto the cold, hard bench and stared blankly at the concrete floor as the weight of my life settled over me. It had always been like this, one disaster after another, with barely enough time to catch my breath.
No one would ever truly want someone like me.
I swallowed the ache in my throat and held on to the only thing keeping me going. I just have to endure all this until I turn twenty-two. Once I’m twenty-two, I can finally go find my mother.
I didn’t care if she was sick. I just wanted to meet her. Maybe, despite everything, she would love me. She was still my mother, after all.
They had kept me away from her all these years, and I didn’t even know what she looked like. But I would be free soon. I was almost twenty, and I only had to endure a little longer before I could finally leave Thomas and my father behind.
I just needed to work hard and save enough money to take care of my mother’s treatment myself.
Hours passed as the night grew deeper. I sat there in silence, slowly accepting the thought that no one was coming for me.
For the first time, I truly felt alone.
Then, around midnight, footsteps echoed down the concrete hallway. An officer stopped in front of my cell, rattling a key in the lock.
"Get up," the officer announced. "Someone just paid your bail and settled your release."
A surge of desperate hope flared in my chest. Father must have changed his mind, I thought, a bittersweet relief washing over me as I hurried to my feet.
The officer led me down the corridor toward the front desk. Eager to thank my father for finally coming, I stepped around the partition. But the moment I raised my eyes and saw the man sitting there waiting for me, I froze.
It wasn’t my father.
It was Frederick.
Disappointment and a dizzying wave of shock hit me all at once, a single, burning question echoing loudly in my mind: How on earth did he find me here?