Case against Ashley
Marco
"We need to focus on what Ismael stands to gain by helping Ashley," I said firmly, rubbing the bridge of my nose in exhaustion. "How did they meet? Where? When? We won't get anywhere if all we have are assumptions."
Sandro and Andy nodded quietly, the air between us heavy with unspoken thoughts.
"Apart from money, which we all know Ashley doesn't have, what else could he possibly want from her?" I added, leaning back into the chair with a weighty sigh. I couldn't think of a clear answer.
As a hitman, money should've been his only motive, and Ashley didn't have a single coin to her name unless Ismael was a run-of-the-mill killer who took scraps. But according to Sandro, he wasn't.
"Love? Sex?" Sandro suggested with a mocking tone, shaking his head like he couldn't believe what he just said.
I paused, my eyes narrowing as I glanced at him, then shifted my gaze to Andy.
"Love and sex? Do men actually kill for those?" I asked softly, the question hanging heavy in the room. "I mean... maybe for love. But sex? Come on, if we really wanted it, we could get it for free, right?"
I raised an eyebrow at Andy, hoping for a more grounded answer.
He scratched the back of his neck and gave me a sheepish shrug. "I don't know anything about that, sir," he said, but I caught the hesitation in his eyes. "But... I love my girlfriend. And honestly, I'd do anything for her."
Silence fell among us as our gazes locked. We didn't speak, but we were all clearly asking the same question.
Is it possible?
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking? That Ismael... might be in love with Ashley?" Sandro asked slowly, as though testing the weight of the idea in his mouth. "Honestly? The guy's good-looking. Like, ridiculously good-looking. You wouldn't think he was a hitman. Dress him in a tailored suit and people would mistake him for a CEO or a damn Armani model."
I frowned. "Handsome?" I asked, one eyebrow raised. "You got a picture of him?" I turned to Andy, hoping he had something to show me. I still had no clue what Ismael looked like, but if what Sandro was saying was true, then we might be dealing with something far more dangerous, an angel-faced killer who could blend in anywhere and deceive anyone.
"Here, sir." Andy placed his phone on the table and rotated it towards me.
The screen lit up with the image of a man with a sharp jawline, piercing eyes, and a smirk that straddled the line between charming and dangerous.
My brow arched involuntarily. "Damn," I muttered under my breath, unable to look away. "He is good-looking."
Sandro grinned. "Told you. A hitman straight out of a rom-com."
I shook my head, not because I found it funny, but because the puzzle we were trying to solve had suddenly become a hell of a lot more complicated.
Why would a man like Ismael help someone like Ashley?
And if our theory was right... Then their connection ran far deeper than any of us initially believed.
"Still, we can't just rely on theories," Sandro said seriously, setting a file down on the table. His eyes were focused, sharp. The eyes of a lawyer who knew that in a courtroom, suspicions mean nothing without proof.
I stared at him, waiting. "So?" I asked, the tension in my voice betraying my anxiety.
"Ismael is a criminal," Sandro said flatly. "Maybe he's capable of love. I won't strip that away from him. But I can't see him doing all this just for Ashley. Let's face it, Ashley loves you. She did everything to get you. So what's the point of him removing all the obstacles between the two of you? If he really loved her, would he just stand back and let her be happy with someone else? Would he choose to suffer in silence while watching the woman he loves smile with another man?"
I swallowed hard. The barrage of questions he threw at me hit like cold water. I didn't know what to feel at first. Was it fear, anger, or guilt?
"Or maybe he's just obsessed with her..." Andy interjected quietly from the corner. "But they've seen each other in secret, right? Alone, even. So, maybe that obsession is being satisfied in some way. Maybe things do happen between them when they're together."
I turned sharply toward Andy. "Andy, are you contradicting yourself now?" I snapped, irritation rising in my tone.
He flinched slightly but didn't back down. "I'm not contradicting myself. I think we need to examine this from every possible angle. If Ismael is obsessed with Ashley, that makes him even less likely to let her go. Obsession doesn't come with reason. He'd lose his mind thinking about someone else having her. It's darker than love. And far more dangerous."
Silence fell again. But this time, it wasn't just heavy, it was suffocating.
"Andy's got a point," Sandro said, and I nodded slowly. But I could see the conflict in his expression. He wasn't sure which to believe, logic or instinct.
Through the chaos of everything happening lately, only one thing was clear: Ashlyn is in danger.
And I couldn't afford to relax, not when I knew Ashley herself was behind most of this. I couldn't bet on luck. Not now. Not when the life of someone I cared about was on the line.
"We need to push forward with the case against Ashley," Sandro declared, scanning the papers in his hand. "We already have strong evidence. The CCTV footage shows Ismael and the driver with Ashley. Then there's the testimony of the driver's wife. All of it points to Ashley as the mastermind behind their accident that caused their parents' lives."
He paused, glancing at me, maybe trying to gauge my reaction.
"Since Ismael was directly involved, we can file charges against him as an accomplice," he added, his voice filled with resolve. "And don't forget, we can tie him to the murder of Nurse Mika, too, as well as the drivers."
I exhaled deeply and with relief. Finally, something solid. A clear path forward.
For the first time in weeks, I felt like the fog was starting to lift. The battle wasn't over, but the weight on my chest felt just a little lighter.
But then—
"Marco..." Sandro spoke again after a beat of silence. His tone shifted lower, more urgent. "I want you to be careful. We don't know what Ashley is capable of. She's unpredictable. If she finds out we're closing in, she might retaliate. And Ashlyn... might become her next target."
I turned toward him, and despite the firmness in his voice, I could feel his fear. I stood from my chair and walked slowly toward the window. I looked out, letting the wave of emotions crash quietly inside me—fear, anger, anxiety.
But above all, a burning need to protect Ashlyn at all costs.
"If that's the case," I began, still facing away, "then Ashley can't know what we know. She doesn't need to know we've talked. She can't suspect we're working together."
I turned back to them, eyes firm, voice unwavering. There was no room for hesitation now.
"We cannot give her the chance to strike first. We need to stay five steps ahead of her. At all times."
Sandro nodded in agreement, followed by Andy. Their eyes mirrored the same determination as mine.
It was a quiet moment, but the weight we all carried was enormous. And we all knew none of us could afford to back down.