Chapter 136 The Custody

Chapter 136 The Custody
Brandon’s POV

I never thought I'd find myself here. In custody. The cold metal of the handcuffs still lingers on my wrists even though they’ve been removed. My mind is racing, struggling to keep up with everything that’s happened. How did I get here?

I’ve already contacted my family lawyer. He promised he’d help—at first. But then he learned that bigger forces are involved, and he left me to fend for myself. I don’t blame him, though. When powerful people decide you’re guilty, it doesn’t matter what the facts are. According to them, I committed a crime too big to ignore, and they want me to pay for it, no matter who I am.

But how do I make them see I’m innocent? How do I prove I’ve been framed? The evidence stacked against me is so clear, so detailed, that even I would think I did it if I were on the outside looking in.

It feels hopeless.

I sit in the interrogation room, staring at the dull gray walls. The weight of everything crashes down on me. But the thought of Alessandra pushes the despair away. I can’t give up, not with her out there, counting on me. If I stop fighting now, it’ll mean I’m guilty in her eyes too, and I can’t bear the thought of losing her trust.

I already pick up the phone to call Sophia. I need cash—lots of it—and fast. But money alone can’t fix this. What I really need is someone to stand by me. A lawyer, a defender. I’ve contacted a dozen attorneys, and each one has the same response: “I can’t take this case. My career would be over.” They all give me the same excuse, terrified of the repercussions if they go against the people pulling the strings behind my case.

I slam the phone down in frustration. It feels like the walls are closing in, like no matter what I do, I’m trapped.

Then, an officer walks into the room, his face unreadable. “Mr. Biden, you have a visitor.”

I don’t even have time to process what that means before my family lawyer walks in. I’m stunned. After everything, why is he back?

He drops his briefcase onto the table with a heavy thud, his expression serious but determined. “The President won’t let you rot in jail. He believes in your innocence, and so do I. I’ll defend you, no matter who’s pulling the strings behind this.”

Relief floods through me, so intense it almost knocks the breath from my chest. I don’t know what changed, but I’m not going to question it. He asks me a few questions, lays out his strategy, and before I even have time to think about it, I’m granted temporary bail.

But none of that matters right now. There’s only one thing on my mind: Alessandra.

I rush home, barely able to focus as I make call after call, trying to reach her. But her phone goes straight to voicemail every time. My heart pounds harder with every passing minute. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.

Desperate, I dial her assistant, Robert. “Robert, put me through to Alessandra,” I say, my voice tight with worry.

“Mr. Biden,” Robert’s voice comes through the phone, calm but distant, “I’m not with her. Is something the matter?”

“I’ve been trying to reach her, but I can’t get through. Do you know where she is?” I ask, the words tumbling out of me, my pulse racing.

“She said she’d be at the law firm, but it’s late. She should’ve left by now. Let me try to get in touch with her and call you back.”

Seconds tick by, feeling like hours. When Robert finally calls again, I nearly drop the phone in my haste to answer. His voice is still calm, but there’s an edge to it now, a tension that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“Mr. Biden, I couldn’t reach her directly, but I had her phone traced. She’s at a warehouse. She might be in trouble. I’ll come get you right away.”

My heart slams into my chest. A warehouse? Why would she be there? Nothing about this feels right. Before I can ask more questions, the line goes dead.

How is Robert going to reach me so quickly?

I don’t have time to dwell on it because a sleek black car pulls up beside me, and there he is, Robert, his face set in stone.

“Get in,” he says, opening the door.

I don’t think twice. I jump into the car, my heart pounding as we tear down the street at breakneck speed. The roar of the engine is deafening, but all I can think about is Alessandra. Where is she? What’s happening to her right now?

On the dashboard, a glowing map shows a purple dot—Alessandra’s location. We’re closing in fast. The streets blur around us as Robert pushes the Lamborghini to its limits, turning on the turbo and speeding through the city like a man possessed.

Then we pass two of Alessandra’s cars, parked haphazardly on the side of a lonely road. I barely notice them at first, but then my eyes lock on the scene beside them.

Three bodies.

“Oh my God…” I whisper, my stomach churning. What the hell happened here? Who are they? But there’s no time to stop. We fly past the scene, my mind reeling, as we approach a desolate warehouse.

The place is a nightmare—abandoned, overgrown with weeds, a decaying overhead bridge looming nearby. The air smells stale, the faint stench of algae from the murky waters by the bridge hanging heavy. I can feel it in my bones—something terrible is happening here.

“Shh,” Robert whispers, holding a finger to his lips. I hadn’t realized my footsteps were so loud.

He reaches into his holster and pulls out a pistol. My stomach tightens at the sight of it. This is real.

“Stay behind me,” he whispers, his voice firm but quiet.

I do as he says, falling in line behind him as we creep toward the back of the warehouse. Every step feels like it’s taking us closer to something I’m not sure I’m ready for. My heart is in my throat, the fear gnawing at me, but I can’t let it stop me.

Alessandra needs me. And I will find her.