Chapter 92

Vincent

The whiskey burns my throat as I swallow hard. Across from me sits Detective Mills, his steely eyes boring into mine.

"It's the work of Thomas. I know it," I tell him.

I shift in my seat. Thomas Whitmore. Just the sound of his name makes my blood boil.

Mills nods. "We have to consider every possibility. Especially given your...history with the man."

I let out a bitter laugh. "History. That's one word for it." My hands curl into fists at the memory. "I stole everything from me. So he stole my son."

Mills holds my gaze steadily. "I appreciate you being so candid. We'll leave no stone unturned in investigating Whitmore's involvement. I promise you that."

I let out a shaky breath, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on my chest. But for Bryce, I have to stay strong.

"Just bring me back my boy," I say hoarsely. "Whatever it takes."

Mills nods, his eyes filled with grim determination. "We will, Vincent. You have my word."

Mills gathers up the case files on the table, tucking the