Chapter 17

Georgina West

As I sat in Chloe’s living room, the memories of that fateful day at the police station where I met her came flooding back, like a wave crashing over me. It had been six or seven years ago, during the third trimester of my pregnancy, when I had the worst days of my life, thanks to Harold Salinger, a man whose very presence sent shivers down my spine.

Salinger was infamous in law enforcement circles for his ruthless interrogation techniques, and I had unfortunately crossed paths with him on several occasions as an opposing lawyer in various cases. He was the kind of man who exuded an aura of darkness, someone who seemed capable of unspeakable cruelty without a second thought.

But nothing could have prepared me for the day he decided to arrest me without any substantial evidence, dragging me to the police station under the guise of questioning me about the mafia, specifically Archer. I was seven months pregnant at the time, vulnerable and defenseless, and Salinger wasted n