ARIANA'S POV:
Fast forward a few years, and our lives had changed completely. Mykel and I were now the proud, albeit exhausted, parents of two beautiful children: a rambunctious five-year-old boy named Alex, and our sweet, chubby-cheeked three-year-old daughter, Axa.
On this particular morning, the house was a whirlwind of early-morning chaos. I was in the kitchen, helping the maids wrap up the breakfast prep so we could get the day started. Nearby, our trusted babysitter, Bonnie, was seated with the kids, patiently coaxing them to finish their breakfast.
Footsteps echoed on the stairs, and I turned to see Mykel walking down, looking impeccably sharp and perfectly put-together in his tailored CEO suit.
"I'm heading to the office, darling," he announced, leaning in to give me a quick kiss.
"Absolutely not. Have some breakfast first," I insisted, intercepting him before he could reach the front door. I grabbed his arm and playfully pulled him over to the breakfast table. "Don't you dare leave for the office on an empty stomach. Going to work hungry ruins the entire day."
Mykel flashed me a warm, handsome smile. Instead of grabbing a plate for himself, he picked up a freshly prepared slice of avocado toast from the table and held it up to my lips. "Take a bite first."
I blinked, amused. "Mykel..."
"Then you shouldn't do it either," he countered smoothly, his eyes softened with affection. "First, you have breakfast, then you start your day. If my wife isn't having a good morning, how am I supposed to have a good day at work?"
I let out a soft scoff, a fond smile breaking across my face as I took a bite of the toast. "Fine. Your turn." I nudged it back toward him, watching him take a bite before he gathered his briefcase and Alex's little backpack.
A few minutes later, Mykel walked out to the driveway with Alex to drop him off at preschool before heading to the corporate office. With Axa cradled securely in my arms, we stood by the front door, waving goodbye to them as the car pulled away. Little Axa tried her absolute best to copy me. She vigorously flapped her tiny hand, her lips bubbling with saliva as she tried to pronounce "bye-bye," resulting in a wet, adorable mess.
I giggled, my heart melting as I used her baby towel to wipe her chin. I carried her back inside and found Bonnie. "Bonnie, could you please get her bath ready? I think she's about ready for a nap afterward."
Once Axa was clean, fed, and finally fast asleep in her crib, a wave of pure exhaustion hit me. I practically threw myself onto the living room couch, letting out a long sigh. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, desperate for some mind-numbing entertainment and a bit of "me time" before it was time for Alex to come home from preschool.
Suddenly, my peaceful quiet was shattered by the buzzing of my phone. I glanced at the screen, it was an unknown number.
Swiping to answer, I pressed the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"Hi. Am I speaking with Ariana Spencer?" a deep, formal voice asked.
"Yes, this is she..." I replied, a sudden knot of unease forming in my stomach.
"I'm Detective Ryan Walter," the man introduced himself, his tone deadpan and clinical. "I'm contacting you in regards to an active homicide investigation."
My heart stopped. A murder case? My mind instantly flashed to dark places, panic seizing my chest. Are they talking about Barney?
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "Wh-what is the victim's name?"
"Percy," the detective stated plainly.
My eyes widened in absolute shock, the breath knocked clear out of my lungs. "Percy? H-he's dead?" My voice trembled violently, the sheer disbelief vibrating through every word.
"Oh... so you didn't know?" Detective Walter's tone shifted subtly, sharpening with a thick layer of suspicion, as if he was analyzing my raw reaction for signs of guilt.
"No, I don't! I seriously didn't know!" I stammered, my mind racing. "A few years ago, he...he went back to Italy because his mother's health had severely worsened. I didn't even know he was dead..."
"Yeah, he's dead," the detective said coldly. "In fact, he was killed nearly six years ago."
Six years ago?!
The room seemed to spin. Six years ago was the exact time he had supposedly left for Italy. My mind struggled to process the horrific timeline. It meant that right after he told me he was leaving, someone had murdered him. He never even left the country.
As I sat there in stunned, suffocating silence, Detective Walter spoke up again, cutting through my spiraling thoughts. "I'm sending you the address to the morgue for further questioning and identification. Come down as soon as you can."
"Okay... I'm coming," I whispered, my hand shaking as I hung up the phone.
I sat frozen for a moment, forcing myself to breathe. I had to compose myself. I hurriedly touched up my appearance, grabbed my purse, and rushed out to the living room. I gave strict instructions to Bonnie and the maids to look after the house, reminding them to be ready for when Alex got back from preschool. Then, I practically ran to my car and drove straight to the address.
The building was grim and sterile. The detective's office was dimly lit, and right adjacent to it was the cold, heavy door leading to the forensics room where the bodies were kept.
When I walked in, Detective Walter gave me a brief, knowing nod, as if he had already memorized my face from a file. Without saying a word, he led me into the freezing room of the dead.
He stopped beside a stainless-steel table and slowly pulled back the white sheet covering the body. Despite the decomposition and the passage of time, I recognized him instantly. My eyes locked onto the distinct, permanent tattoo inked onto his left arm.
"Percy..." I gasped, tears instantly welling up in my eyes as I covered my mouth. "How... how could someone do this to you?"
Detective Walter watched my breakdown with an unnervingly detached expression. "We've brought in several people to try and identify him, since he didn't have any ID or personal belongings on him when he was found. Luckily, a former acquaintance finally recognized him and told us about his old workplace. The people at his job didn't know anything about his family, but they handed over your number, stating that you used to visit him frequently back then."
I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat, blinking away my tears as I tried to regain my composure. "Yeah... I was his high school ex-girlfriend. Six years ago, he was working part-time here to finish his medical degree. We crossed paths again at his workplace, reconciled, and met up for a couple of casual hangouts. We used to chat daily. But then, completely out of nowhere, I went to his work one day and they told me he had abruptly left for Italy. I received a text from him saying his mother's health had taken a turn for the worse and he had to fly out immediately. So, I believed him. I thought he was in Italy this whole time."
"And you never noticed or questioned why he never texted you again after that?" the detective asked, his tone dripping with heavy, accusatory suspicion.
"I did!" I defended, a hint of desperation bleeding into my voice. "I texted him several times. But when he never replied, I just assumed he wanted space or that he didn't want to talk to me anymore... so I stopped pushing."
Detective Walter walked back over to his desk, sinking into his chair. He picked up a pen, twirling it casually between his fingers, his demeanor completely indifferent to my distress.
"Well, if you really cared about him, you would have suspected something was wrong and tried harder to reach him," he said dismissively. He didn't even bother to look up at me, waving his hand toward the door as if dismissing a nuisance. "Anyway, thank you for your statement. I'll contact you if we find any actual evidence."
The implication stung like a slap in the face. He was treating me like I was a prime suspect or worse, like I was the one who had put Percy on that cold table.
Biting my tongue to keep from screaming, I didn't say another word. I turned on my heel and walked out of his suffocating office, the cold weight of a six-year-old murder mystery settling heavily onto my shoulders.