Chapter 46

Ian’s POV

I stepped into the small, sterile room, the floor tiles cold against my shoes. Mona trailed behind me, clutching a half-empty bag of chips, still chewing on a piece as if it could somehow absorb the absurdity of the situation. I let out a sigh and rubbed my temples, trying to shake off the headache creeping up from the back of my skull.

Ken had led us here, his face a mask of indifference. I could tell by the way he glanced at Mona that he didn’t quite know how to deal with the situation, either. But there was no mistake that this wasn’t going to end well for me—no matter how much chocolate or chips Mona had at her disposal.

Mona plopped herself down on one of the cold metal chairs, her bag of chips resting on the table in front of her. She shot me a look, as if daring me to try and pretend like everything was fine.

Ken was already seated at the desk, flipping through some papers. The silence hung between us like a heavy weight, each second dragging by, stretching the tension thin. I could feel Mona’s gaze burning into the side of my head. I knew she was furious, but I had no idea how to calm her down. It wasn’t just the usual Mona—this was something else entirely.

Ken finally broke the silence. His voice was a monotone, mechanical, as if he had said this a thousand times before.

“Mr. Ian, we’ve had a request from the family of your former cook, Mr. David Flynn. They’re demanding compensation for his death.”

I blinked, my mind racing. David Flynn—the cook who’d taken his own life months ago. His death had always been a mystery to me. We’d never been close, but I’d always respected his work. The thought of him ending it all had left a sour taste in my mouth, but I’d never imagined it would come to this.

“What do you mean, ‘demanding compensation’?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

Ken looked up from his papers, a small frown forming on his face. “They don’t just want money. They’re asking for something far more significant. They want you to spend some time in police custody—voluntarily.”

My stomach dropped. Custody? That couldn’t be right. There was no way in hell I could just hand myself over like that. Not for something I hadn’t done.

Mona, who had been chewing another chip, stopped mid-bite and slammed the bag down on the table. “No,” she snapped, her voice a low growl. “No way. You’re not putting him in any cell. Not even for a minute. This is absurd.”

I could feel the heat radiating off of her as she stood up, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. I turned to her, trying to calm her with my gaze. But Mona wasn’t having it. She was already moving toward the door, pacing, her mind working faster than any of us could keep up.

“No, Ian. They don’t just get to pull this crap and expect us to roll over. You’re not staying in any cell. Not for one second.” She rounded on Ken, her eyes blazing. “Do you even know what this is? You’re going to let them just throw him in jail for something that’s not his fault?”

Ken didn’t flinch. He just sat there, watching her as if she were a mild inconvenience. “Mona,” I said softly, standing up and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down. We’ll figure this out.”

But she jerked away from me, her eyes flashing with fury. “Calm down? Calm down? Are you kidding me? You don’t get to just let them do whatever they want because they’re demanding it! They can’t just take you from me—”

“Mona,” I interrupted, my voice firmer now. “Listen to me, alright? I’m not going to let them put me in a cell. But yelling at them isn’t going to solve anything. We need to keep our heads, okay? This is more complicated than you think.”

She threw her hands up in the air, her voice rising with every word. “More complicated? This is insane! And you think I’m just supposed to sit back and watch them haul you away for something you didn’t do? This isn’t just ‘complicated,’ Ian—this is—this is wrong!”

I took a deep breath, walking over to her and lowering my voice. “I know it feels wrong, Mona. But we can’t change anything by fighting now. Just trust me.”

She looked at me for a moment, her eyes searching mine. I could see the fire burning inside her—her determination, her anger, all wrapped up in this protective need to make sure I was okay. But I didn’t want her to spiral. Not now. Not when things were getting more out of hand by the second.

“Mona,” I said gently, “I’m not going anywhere. Not if I can help it. But you need to listen to me. Just give me a minute to talk to Ken. We’ll figure this out. Okay?”

But before she could respond, the door to the room swung open. A woman stepped inside, her movements sharp and deliberate. She was tall, with sharp features that didn’t leave much room for warmth. Her eyes were cold, calculating, and her face was set in an expression that seemed to say she’d already made up her mind about me. She was dressed in black, her hands clasped in front of her as if she were a general preparing for battle.

“Who the hell is this?” Mona muttered under her breath, but I could already tell. This woman had ‘trouble’ written all over her.

“Mrs. Flynn,” Ken said, standing up immediately. “This is—”

“I know who he is,” she snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. “And I know exactly why I’m here.”

Mona stood straighter, glaring at the woman. “You’re the cook’s sister, then? You think this is how it’s going to go down? You drag him into a police cell for your own demands?”

The woman didn’t even blink. She turned her steely gaze on me, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You think I don’t know what you’ve done? You think you’re just going to get away with this? My brother is dead because of you. And I’m not leaving here without something from you.”

I felt a chill creep up my spine. “What do you want from me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “I want you to take me on as your cook. I want you to make it right. It’s the only way I’ll consider this matter settled.”