“We weren’t taking any chances.” The leaner one stood and produced a double-edge steel blade from his inside jacket pocket. He walked around to me and cut through the flex cuffs. Not a standard issue. At my raised brow he added, “that you might want to pull the bag off your head.”
“So, you weren’t worried that I might’ve killed you both in the car, then?” I asked to gauge what they knew about me.
They shared a look but said nothing. Either they were good at hiding their expressions or they didn’t know my capability which would be strange for the Feds. I watched the man go back to his seat. Instead of returning the weapon to his pocket, he set the blade on the table. Silence hung in the air as my gaze cruised around the windowless room. Apart from a single door to my right, a water dispenser behind the men and the table we sat at, the place was just one big shell. The only light coming from a low-watt bulb dangling from a thin cord in the center of the ceiling.
“Place your phone and wallet on the table and sit.” The bulkier one who seemed like the lead gestured to the chair next to me.
I did as he asked and slid into the seat. “If you’re not about to torture me, you want to start by telling me who the fuck are you guys?”
Elbows pressed into the steel top, the taller of the two, leaned forward. “What’s your relationship with Ishara Singh, Gabriel?”
No introductions then. I said nothing. Whoever killed Ria’s cousin, framed me and I aimed to find out why the second I was allowed to walk out of this goddamn place. Impatience tightening my jaw, I glared at them. “I don’t—I mean I never had a relationship with her. I was married to her cousin.”
“Ria?”
“Yes.”
“And you weren’t married to Ishara?”
“What the fuck? Are you fucking hard of hearing? I said I wasn’t married to her. I was married to Ria and thanks to you deadbeats she’s being kidnapped by a man that’s calling himself her father—”
“Did you know she’s the daughter of a crime boss?”
“Who? Ishara?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
“No.” I shook my head. This was news to me, and the knowledge chilled my bones.
“How did you meet Ria?”
“I was part of a task team sent in to recover stolen biochemical information that was being sold to the Russian Mafia. They were using Ria to pass on the information and I intercepted the tradeoff before it went down.”
“And you fell in love with her after that?”
“Yes.”
“What about Ishara?”
“What about her?” I frowned, my irritation encasing my words in steel.
“You weren’t in love with her?”
“No. I wasn’t in love with her,” I seethed, my nails digging into my thighs with the need to punch the fucker in the mouth.
“So, you weren’t using her to get to her father?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I barked. “I used her to get to her father. Unbelievable.” I let out a caustic laugh, shaking my head. “How the fuck would I do that, if I had no fucking idea who her father was, in the first place,” I gritted through clenched teeth then dropped my head into my hands. A part of me knew they were following protocol given Ishara’s body was found with the video recording. Still, I was growing more agitated by the second, knowing Ria was being taken further away with each precious second I wasted with these fuckers.
“What about Harsh and Bhavna Singh, why did you kill them?”
“I didn’t kill them but whoever did probably saw them as...” I trailed off trying to figure out why they would’ve taken those two people. “Collateral damage,” I said more for my confirmation than the asshole asking the question. “Maybe they knew too much. Look, I have no fucking clue why they were killed because I didn’t kill them,” I hissed out the last part.
“Did you know she was pregnant?”
My head snapped up. “Who?”
“Ishara.”
