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A sharp knock hits the door. Muffled voices. Radios.

“They’re here,” I say tightly.

“Then shut the fuck up and wait for me,” Nico replies. “I’m in the elevator.”

The call ends.

Reggie’s pacing, muttering to himself and barking into his phone as he tries to get my lawyer on the line. His panic infects the room like smoke, but I push it out.

I stand tall, shoulders squared, fists clenched at my sides.

Because I’m not afraid of lies.

I’m not afraid of losing this career.

But if this hurts her?

If this drags Laney’s name into something so ugly?

I swear I’ll burn the whole goddamn industry to the ground.

The knock turns into pounding.

Uniforms flood into the suite like I’m a goddamn fugitive, two men in plain clothes at the front, the rest in backup vests and stern faces. Reggie backs up so fast he nearly trips over a coffee table.

“Edward Crowe?” one of the detectives asks, his voice clipped, sharp.

I nod once. “Yeah. I know why you’re here.”

“You’re not under arrest,” the second one says, almost like it’s an afterthought. “But we are here to ask some questions. Miss Tasha Monroe has made a formal statement—”

“I’ve got a lawyer on the way,” Reggie blurts out, wringing his hands. “Please—don’t let this leak. Please. He has a show tonight—”

The detective’s mouth flattens. “Not our concern.”

They motion to the couch. I sit. My jaw’s tight, my heart’s pounding, but my voice stays level. Nico’s words are burning in the back of my skull.

Shut the fuck up. Wait for me.

One wrong sentence, and this whole thing spirals out of control.

I glance at my phone. No notifications. No TMZ alerts. No headlines.

Not public yet. But the fuse is lit.

They ask me to confirm basic details—location, timeline, who I was with in Madrid, where Tasha was during the trip. I give them nothing more than yes or no. Flat answers. Eyes forward.

They want to rattle me.

But I’m already gone inside. Thinking about Laney. About how this would look on her phone screen. Her heart breaking from five thousand miles away.

There’s another knock.

This one is deliberate.

Cool.

And Nico walks in like he owns the building.