"Isabella Rosewood," Isabella answered softly and almost immediately. As she answered, Detective Sharon continued her interrogation like a seasoned professional, never wavering in her pursuit of the truth. Hence, she maintained a calm and confident demeanor, carefully choosing her words to extract vital information from Isabella. "Who are Ethan Mark and Sophia Markwood to you?" Detective Sharon asked once more. "Ethan Mark is my ex-husband, and Sophia Markwood was my daughter," Isabella answered with full cooperation. "So, what were you doing at the penthouse atop the 40th-story building? Is there a family gathering going on there that we do not know about?" "No," Isabella said. "We were there to position ourselves in the right spot to take a shot at Ethan Mark," Isabella said. "You used the word 'we.' Who was there with you?" Isabella took a deep breath, fully aware that revealing Mr. X's identity was dangerous, judging by the organization he worked for. However, the guilt of
"And you think I don't know that?" Attorney Hughes said "Everything you said to them will be used against you in court." Don't you know that, and you just shot yourself in the leg?" Attorney Hughes said once more. "Court?" Isabella asked, and then a smirk faded from her face. "Yes, the court. You might probably be arraigned in court in a few days or hours. So, I need you to cooperate with me so that you do not get locked up for the rest of your life. Even if you get locked up at all, your years can be lessened. Do you understand?" "How do you find happiness defending someone who just murdered her own daughter, Mr. Attorney?" Isabella looked at attorney Hughes, her gaze on him growing tougher, as if she were a tiger ready to devour her prey. "How do you not want me to pay for the murder I have committed? Who are you?" Isabella raised her voice. Her calm temperament suddenly changed, and she seemed as if she were gnashing her teeth in horror at the attorney. It didn't mean that att
The next day arrived quickly, as if it had been waiting for Isabella all along to be revealed as the murderer of her child. Hence, it was rightly said that the news of Isabella's arrest for the crime of murdering her own daughter easily spread like wildfire.Everyone in Eldridge, HavenBrook, and the remaining parts of the country already knew what Isabella had done. Nevertheless, if they felt any empathy for her, it was a lie. In light of this, the different media outlets of the press house were found at the entrance of the police station, where Isabella was to be questioned before being arraigned in court. Consequently, everything was being televised live on screens, billboards, social media, and in broadcasting news."We are live at the Eldridge police station, where Mrs. Isabella Rosewood, the ex-wife of the wealthy and popular Ethan Mark, who killed their child, will be interrogated by Detective Sharon, the head officer in charge of this case. Are you anxious to see what they will
"Hello, Sheila, and thank you for the wonderful interview session going on at the press house. I must confess that you are doing a great job. They have already started the interrogation process here. We can see that Detective Sharon has gone into the interrogation room, where Isabella Rosewood has been cuffed to the desk. Right now, we are going to move closer to the room and have our mic and camera on the subject matter. We will not waste our audience's time because we know that everyone watching this live right now wants to know what indeed happened that very day when Miss Sophia Markwood, the daughter of the popular Ethan Mark, was murdered."To this effect, what was shown on the screen was how reporter Julian and every other reporter from different media houses scrambled into the police station and rushed towards the confined room where Isabella was cuffed to the desk.If the room was bigger than a cubicle, it was a lie. Hence, it had a shallow window positioned high on the wall,
"I did not say I broke out. I said I was broke out," Isabella said. Detective Sharon, now standing behind Isabella, asked, "Who broke you out?" She reached out and touched Isabella's shoulder, realizing that Isabella's hands were cuffed to the desk and her legs were cuffed to the floor. In this moment, Isabella's breath rate increased. It wasn't because she was afraid of Detective Sharon potentially harming her from behind, but rather because she recalled what Attorney Hughes had told her in the confined room the day before. "I work for the man your father hired to kill Ethan Mark, and if you mention his name, it automatically means you are giving us away as well. That cannot happen. And if it does, prepare to meet your child in hell or in heaven, wherever she might be." Attorney Hughes's words echoed in her mind, and she could see the scene play out in her head once again as if it were a vision. Nonetheless, the weight of her guilt outweighed her fear, and she was prepared to face
"Mrs. Victoria Sinclair, we have heard what your daughter just said. She mentioned that all this time she was controlled by greed, which led her down a path where she wanted to take Ethan Mark's life, and tragically, she ended up taking her daughter's life instead. What do you have to say about this?""Well, thank you, Sheila, for this question. Honestly, if I were not shocked watching the interrogation and hearing what Isabella said from her own mouth, it would imply that I was only lying. However, we have to consider the fact that she did not act alone. This means that her so-called greed was triggered by the influence of other people.""When you mention 'other people,' Mrs. Victoria Sinclair, are you referring to Mr. Alexander Rosewood? Because, according to what Mrs. Isabella Rosewood said, her father wrote to her in prison, and the content of the letter was the reason Isabella was determined to seek revenge on Ethan Mark.""Well, I didn't specifically mention Alexander's name. Bu
After the interrogation session with Isabella, she was lifted to her feet by the two police officers who had just walked in. They were clad in standard police uniforms, a crisp navy blue adorned with authoritative badges. Similarly, they had sleek pistols snugly holstered on their belts, positioned securely on their right sides like sentinels at attention, ready to enforce the law with a precision that matched the crispness of their navy blue uniforms.As the two officers walked and reached Isabella, one officer held her shoulder while the other uncuffed her hands from the desk restraint and released her legs from the floor restraint as well. and in this manner, they said nothing but their eyes, speaking volumes of their readiness to attack if she failed to cooperate.“Walk,” the officer holding her shoulder said suddenly in a low tone, prompting Isabella to start walking immediately.At this moment, if Detective Sharon was still waiting in the interrogation room, it was a lie. She ha
As the prosecuting attorney introduced himself before the judge, a fervent silence filled the courtroom. At this point, an introduction by the defendant's attorney should have followed; however, the only introduction they heard was the resounding silence of the court, too loud and definite.Nevertheless, this fervent silence did not persist for more than ten minutes. The courtroom door suddenly burst open, and a man in sunglasses walked in. He wore a gray suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. His shoes, a well-polished brown Italian pair, produced a rhythmic knocking sound as he walked into the courtroom, echoing through the solemn halls of justice.If Isabella did not recognize this man, it would be a lie. She observed that, just as he had entered the interrogation room to visit her, he now strode into the courtroom, even carrying the same briefcase.As she continued to gaze at him like a curious cat fixated on an elusive butterfly just out of reach, her heart raced faster, like
Pushing her back into her prison cell like a reluctant pawn being returned to its square on a chessboard, Isabella fell on the prison floor, resembling a fragile autumn leaf descending with a surrender to the inevitable embrace of the cold, hard ground. No matter how her voice had risen in anger towards her mother in the meeting room, she knew very well that she wanted to read the contents of the letter in the envelope and discover the help Ethan Mark had promised her. "Would he file for my release?" "Has he bought me a home as a sign of my forgiveness?" "Would he take me back as his wife?" Different questions rushed through her mind like a tumultuous river, each query cascading over the other. As she held the envelope in her hand, she sat at the corner of her cell and stared at it much more closely. In this way, she saw that the surface of the envelope bore a faint trace of handling, like a blank canvas marked only by the weight of the untold. She also observed the edges, crisp
As Isabella saw her mother through the glass panel, her eyes first peered at her face, which was fresh and glowing like a sun-kissing morning, radiating warmth and vitality. Similarly, she observed her hair, cascading strands of silk, flowing effortlessly, resembling a gentle waterfall gracing a serene landscape.But if that were all, it would be a lie. She also noticed her dress, which was as beautiful as a field of blooming flowers, each petal a vibrant hue, creating a tapestry of elegance. Likewise, her neck, ears, and wrists were adorned with jewelry, resembling constellations adorning the night sky, each piece a sparkling star in the galaxy of her elegance.Taking in this perfect image of her mother, the thought immediately struck Isabella that her mother's current appearance was the complete inverse of hers—a mess in a uniform and in a confined space, akin to a wildflower struggling to bloom in a cramped garden bed."Been a while," Victoria Sinclair said again, immediately as Is
Like a fish forced to live in the desert for the crime she had committed, Isabella's prison days wove a bleak tapestry of monotony and despair. The cold, unforgiving reality of prison life left her yearning for freedom, with each passing moment feeling like an eternity. The absence of familiar faces and the pervasive loneliness created a profound sense of desolation that permeated every aspect of her existence.Most especially, the daily beatings from her tormentor, Elara Whitewind, resembled an unrelenting storm, leaving Isabella's spirit battered and broken, akin to a shipwreck in the tempest of her despair. This was the reason she wished she had never set foot in the prison yard, mess hall, or communal bathroom ever again.However, whether she wished to visit those places or not, prison protocol had to be followed, leaving her no choice but to be present even in the devil's face if the protocol demanded it.In the dimly lit mess hall, clattering trays and hushed conversations fille
Ethan said nothing in response to Mr. Alexander's words. Instead, as if he hadn't heard him, he seized a seat on the other side of the table and crossed his left leg over his right.Yet, this did not mean he spoke at this moment. The only sound was the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the table, as if he were playing an invisible piano.In this manner, Ethan Mark exuded authority. Gazing calmly from Mr. Alexander's feet to the tangled mess of hair atop his head, he looked at him. With a serenity akin to the gentle flow of the Nile and a voice as soft as a satisfied dove contemplating a defeated jungle lion, he suddenly spoke."Kneel and apologize."Upon hearing these words, Mr. Alexander's eyes widened in shock. He never anticipated a day when he would be asked to kneel and beg for mercy, especially from the person he had always regarded as a poor bastard.Like an enslaved cat in the presence of a lion, Mr. Alexander fell to his knees as Ethan Mark instructed, pleading, "I was a ter
Seeing how bold, tall, and dangerous this prisoner appeared and observing his audacious manner of poking at him was akin to witnessing a prowling lion, confident in its dominance, taunting its prey before the impending strike. Mr. Alexander then immediately turned his back, attempting to escape from this menacing part of the communal bathroom like a startled deer seeking refuge from the looming threat in the dark forest. "I have to run," he muttered in total fright, his voice a tremor in the echoing silence, like a desperate whisper carried away by the chilling wind of impending danger. However, if his intention was for success, it was a futile hope. "And where do you think you are running to, huh?" Another prisoner said this behind him and pushed him forward like a pawn on the unforgiving chessboard of the prison's power dynamics. As Mr. Alexander was pushed forward, he witnessed how the older prisoners immediately surrounded him. He also noticed how they revealed smirks on their c
After speaking for hours, the man who had conversed with him advised Mr. Alexander to get some sleep. He emphasized the importance of having alert eyes to observe any unfortunate events that might occur in the morning. And with that, Mr. Alexander retreated to the corner of his cell once again, burying his head in his ankle like a ship seeking refuge in the harbor of solitude, sheltering itself from the tempest of the prison's harsh reality. He sat on the ground, succumbing to a haunted sleep. *** The next morning revealed Mr. Alexander as a mere specter of resilience, marked by the weariness of a night spent in the clutches of haunted dreams, like a tattered flag fluttering weakly after enduring the relentless storm of a sleepless night. His eyes, burdened with unrest, betrayed the toll of his surroundings. Disheveled strands of hair clung to his forehead, bearing witness to the restless hours entangled in unsettling dreams. As he rose from the dark corner of his cell, his eyes fir
"Long story, man," the man answered. However, if this was all he said, it was a lie. He began to unravel his own narrative, detailing how his legs became amputated and one of his hands irreparably broken and dislocated."You see, I entered this prison as a healthy man. My crimes weren't that significant. I robbed a bank because I couldn't bear to watch my daughter suffer. We hadn't eaten for days, and robbing the bank seemed like my only option." He took a deep sigh and continued talking."Yes, you guessed right. The mission was unsuccessful, and before I knew it, I was completely surrounded by the police. I had no guns, only a knife and a dagger. I never headed to the vault but collected pieces from each person I encountered in the bank. I just wanted to be able to feed my daughter and move on with life the next day.""While being surrounded, there was nothing more I could do than raise my hands in the air and let the police apprehend me. God knows it was the biggest mistake I ever m
Arriving at the prison, Mr. Alexander saw how the prison walls were imposing, resembling a fortress of despair that stood as a testament to the shadows of society. Certainly, he shook his head in regret, as he had never been to a place this horrible before.He observed cold steel bars, like sentinels of incarceration, confining notorious men whose stories were etched in the graffiti of hardened souls. Similarly, he noticed how the air hung heavy with the weight of regret, whispers of past misdeeds echoing through the dimly lit corridors.The sounds of his handcuffs tucked in chains down to his ankle made obvious sounds as he was escorted through the corridor harboring the cells of different notorious men by two prison officers whose faces lacked smiles, as if they hadn't smiled for many notorious years. Hence, he saw individuals behind these cells harboring untold secrets with their unappealing faces and frightful behaviors.Upon witnessing him and the others being escorted to their r
“Detective Sharon, we would love to ask you a few questions if you do not mind. We are sure this would help the public understand more of what is going on,” one reporter said immediately. “Alright, please go ahead. If this would help the general public understand more of what is going on, “Thank you, Detective Sharon. Now that Mr. Alexander, Mr. X, and Attorney Hughes have been sentenced to lengthy prison terms, and Attorney Reynolds is awaiting the outcome of his investigation before he is sentenced, do you think that would be the end of this deadly organization?” “Yes, Mr. X. Mr. Alexander Rosewood and Attorney Hughes have been sentenced to prison for a very long term, and if care is not taken, for life imprisonment. However, this is not the end of the organization. As you might already know, the deadly organization is a large organization that has penetrated every sector, which could even include the police, the prison officers, the legal system, and many more, which could even i