Neither of them spoke during the drive, when they pulled into his driveway, Killian noted with quiet relief that Owen was gone. He didn't need distractions tonight, he unlocked the door and stepped aside. "Make yourself at home." Janelle hesitated at the threshold, then stepped inside. "I didn't want your pity." she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Killian turned to look at her. "What?" "That's why I didn't tell you I was asthmatic." She explained, eyes downcast. "I didn't want you to see me as weak or… fragile." Killian exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "You're not weak." he said simply. She gave a small nod, her eyes glistening but refusing to shed any more tears. "You can take the guest room. Would you be okay on your own?" "I'll be fine." She replied, her voice steadier than before. As she turned to head down the hallway, she paused and looked back at him. "Thank you. For saving me." Killian gave a small nod,

After dinner, Janelle leaned back in her seat and casually asked. "So… won't your girlfriend be upset I'm staying at your house?" Killian looked up, expression unreadable. "I don't have one." "Oh, that's right. You're gay." She muttered under her breath, but not quiet enough. Killian raised a brow. "What did you say?" "Nothing..." "Why would you assume I'm gay?" "I… no reason." She replied, looking away. "That's a lie." Killian stood, walking toward her. His slow, deliberate steps made her instinctively back up. She kept moving until her back hit the wall. "Why did you say that?" He asked again, voice low. "Fine." She said with a sigh. "I heard it at your office, okay?" "What?" Killian's brows furrowed in disbelief, his expression a mix of irritation and surprise. Killian stared at her, clearly trying to process what she had just said. That was what people at his own firm were whispering behind his back? "You heard this when?" He asked, voice tight with disb

"Why shouldn't he?" Janelle snapped. "Why shouldn't anyone?" "That's what everyone always did, isn't it? Took your side. Mom. Dad. Everyone except Grandpa. And he's gone too." Owen said with a scoff. "And when I reached out to you..." Her voice was low now, but it carried a rawness that made Killian go still. "Wasn't that enough? I loved you. I thought I had a special bond with my older brother. But all I got was rejection." She scoffed and looked away. Owen looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. "What?" Janelle snapped, her glare sharp. "Cat got your tongue?" "Watch it, Janelle." Owen bit back. "You're still just as selfish, aren't you?" "Me?" She scoffed, her voice rising. "I'm the selfish one?" But before she could say more, Janelle suddenly clutched her chest. Her breathing quickened. "Janelle?" Killian rushed to her side. "Hey, hey, breathe. Look at me. Just breathe, okay?" "She's having an asthma attack." He said, his voice low but urge

Killian arrived at the interrogation room. The man who had tried to kill Janelle was handcuffed to the chair, his expression twisted in a sick grin, wild eyes, he was not bothered, like someone who had nothing left to lose. He hadn't said a single word since being brought in. Not during booking, not during the ride over not to any of the officers. Killian entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He pulled out the chair and sat across from the man, locking eyes with him. "So." Killian started calmly, "who sent you?" The man tilted his head and scoffed. "You have no idea what you're in the middle of." Killian didn't blink. "You're the detective, aren't you?" The man continued, grinning wider. "The one protecting her?"Killian's expression didn't shift. "Who sent you, and what does he want?" "If you want to keep your little girlfriend safe," the man drawled, "you'll stay far away from the investigation into her mother's death. That's the thread that'll get both o

At the company, Janelle's father, Ian Thorn, sat waiting in her office. He glanced at the time again, his daughter was unusually late. Far more than she had ever been. Janelle was a perfectionist, even when she'd been ill, she had never let it affect her punctuality. Work had always been her sacred space, but now, here he was, waiting for over an hour. And she still hadn't shown up, to make matters worse, Vanessa had arrived earlier than Janelle. Ian tapped the table impatiently. "Where is she?" He asked, irritation slipping into his voice. "I'm not sure, sir. Maybe she... spent the night at her boyfriend's again." Vanessa mumbled, then quickly realized her slip. "What?" Ian's eyes narrowed. "Oh... I mean..." "Out with it. What do you know? Who is this ‘friend’ my daughter keeps mentioning? Is he the boyfriend you're referring to?" "Sir, I think it's best you ask her directly." Vanessa stammered. "I am asking you." Ian growled. "Unless you want to start looking for