Chapter 47 Framed In Blood
Becca’s POV
“Miss Wilton, you’re under arrest for the murder of Mr. Asher,”
For a second, I didn’t even process the words. They didn’t belong in my world.
Murder? My mind froze.
The mug in my hand slipped, shattering against the floor. Coffee splashed across my bare feet, hot and sharp, but I couldn’t move.
“What?” I managed, breath catching.
“No…no, that can’t be right.”
Two officers stepped in without hesitation. One read from a paper in his hand, the other already pulling out handcuffs.
“Ma’am, please turn around.”
I shook my head, backing up. “Wait, there’s a mistake! I haven’t seen Asher since…”
“Becca!” Danielle’s voice came from the kitchen. She ran out barefoot, panicking all over her face. “What’s happening?”
My throat went dry. “They’re saying Asher’s dead.”
The officer didn’t flinch. “He was found early this morning. Multiple stab wounds. No signs of forced entry.”
My stomach turned. “You think I…?”
“There’s security footage,” the woman cut in. “You were seen entering his building last night.”
“That’s a lie!” I shouted, but my words bounced off them like pebbles hitting steel.
I felt the cuffs close around my wrists. They were cold, final.
“Stop!” Danielle cried, lunging forward, but the taller officer pushed her back. “There has to be a mistake! She wouldn’t hurt anyone!”
They didn’t care. They were already dragging me toward the door.
“Call Mark!” I yelled, twisting against their grip. “Danielle, please call Mark!”
The hall filled with noise, the neighbors whispering, cameras flashing, sirens bleeding into the air outside.
“Becca Wilton, did you kill Asher Grey?”
“Why were you at his place last night?
The words sliced into me, every question a wound I couldn’t defend.
I was pushed into the back of the car, the door slamming shut behind me. Through the window, I saw Danielle standing on the curb, trembling and crying. She mouthed, I’ll find him.
And I nodded, whispering the same name under my breath until it hurt.
“Mark.”
(Mark’s POV)
“Gentlemen, if we stabilize the partnerships by next quarter…”
The boardroom door burst open before I could finish.
Danielle.
Her eyes were red and swollen, her hands shaking as she stumbled forward. The directors were on their feet, murmuring, annoyed, but I knew that look; fear.
“Sir, she can’t…” one guard began, but I raised a hand. “Let her through.”
She didn’t walk. She collapsed into the chair beside me, gasping for air.
“Mark… it’s Becca.”
Every sound in the room vanished.
“What about her?” My chest tightened.
“She’s been arrested.” Her voice broke.
“They said she killed Asher.”
For a moment, I thought I’d misheard her. “What?”
“Asher was found dead this morning with multiple stab wounds but Becca didn't do it,” Her voice trembled harder.
My heart slammed against my ribs. “That’s impossible.”
“They found her bracelet in his apartment,” she whispered. “There’s footage of her entering the building. It’s all over the internet now.”
I stared at her, trying to breathe past the storm rising inside me.
I knew Becca.
Asher was a monster that deserved death but she wasn’t capable of this.
“She’s being framed,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
Across the table, Collins shifted uncomfortably. “Sir, the footage didn’t come from police sources. It was leaked. Circulated on multiple channels within minutes.”
My gaze snapped to him. “By who?”
He hesitated. “We’re still confirming… but the digital signature matches Davenport’s network.”
Of course it did.
My jaw locked, rage burning through my veins. Davenport wasn’t dead after all and she was still playing her games.
I turned to the directors. “The meeting is adjourned.”
“Sir,”
“Now!”
Chairs scraped back. Nobody argued. Within seconds, the room was empty, just me, Danielle, and the ghosts of the past catching up.
“She was screaming for you,” Danielle said, tears spilling freely. “She told me to find you. She’s terrified, Mark.”
I swallowed hard. The thought of her crying; my Becca, shaking and alone in a cell, it made something inside me snap.
“Where is she now?”
“They took her downtown.”
I nodded once. “I’ll get her out.”
“Please,” Danielle whispered. “Don’t let them hurt her.”
I placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “I won’t.”
“Collins,” I called, already heading for the door.
“Get the car. I want every lawyer we have working this case before the hour’s up.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Collins,” I added without turning, “find Davenport. I don’t care what rock she’s hiding under. Dig her out.”
We stepped into the elevator.
“She’s been framed,” I muttered to myself. “And I’ll prove
“I’ll burn the world for her,”
The city bled gray under a curtain of rain as the car cut through traffic.
Collins sat in the front seat, murmuring into his phone. I stared out the window, watching the blurred glow of streetlights slide past like memories I couldn’t shake.
Becca’s laugh still haunted me. The small, quiet one she gave me when I’d burned breakfast the other morning. The way her eyes had softened, even after everything.
And now this.
Davenport knew exactly where to hit me. She couldn’t kill me outright, so she went for the one thing she knew would destroy me from the inside.
I clenched my fist until my knuckles ached. “I’ll burn her world to the ground,” I whispered.
We were two streets away from the precinct when Collins turned from the front seat, phone still in his hand, his expression grim.
“Sir,” he said carefully, “there’s something you need to know.”
I met his eyes through the rearview mirror. “What now?”
“The forensic team just released a statement. The fingerprints on the weapon, they match Becca’s.”
The words hit like a bullet.
I stared straight ahead, heartbeat thundering in my ears. “That’s not possible.”
“I know, sir, but…”
“They’re fake,” I cut him off. My voice came out colder than I expected. “They have to be.”
He nodded but didn’t speak.
I leaned forward, my tone low and certain. “Davenport wants me to believe she’s guilty. She wants me to lose control.”
Collins risked a glance back. “And what are you going to do?”
I smiled without humor. “Exactly what she’s afraid of.”
The car pulled up in front of the station. Rain hit the windshield harder now, like the sky itself wanted to drown this city.
I stepped out, ignoring the cameras, the flashing lights, the chaos. Every step I took echoed one promise.
I would bring her home.
(Becca’s POV)
The cell was small and cold. Metal bench, concrete walls, one flickering light overhead.
I sat there, my wrists sore, my mind still trying to make sense of it all. I’d told them the truth a hundred times, but they didn’t care.
The evidence was too perfect, too clean, like someone had written the script for my destruction.
I stared at the reflection of my face in the metal door. I barely recognized myself.
“Mark’s coming for me,” I whispered.
It wasn’t just hope. It was faith.
Because if there was one thing I knew about Mark Simmons, it was this_
When he loved, he loved like fire.
And fire always comes for what’s been stolen.