Levi's eyes followed his trajectory… and froze.
His heart slammed in his chest.
The man Finn was attacking…
Was Amadeo.
The room had gone quiet, too quiet.
Only the echo of Finn's ragged breathing remained after the chaos. Officers held him back, fists still clenched, fury radiating off him like fire. Blood dripped from the corner of Amadeo's lip where the punch had landed. His expression, however, was not anger—but something colder. Blank. Numb.
"You bastard!" Finn roared, spit flying. "You framed me, and now you're sitting here like some king? Tell them what you did to that girl!"
Amadeo stayed still, breathing slow. His fingers twitched under the table.
Levy exchanged a glance with Dylan, then motioned to the officers. "Take him to holding. Now."
Finn thrashed. "You're all blind! He's the one who gave me the contract! Ask him! He's the one who told me what to do!" His voice echoed even as he was dragged out, until the door slammed and silence swallowed the room again.
Levy turned to Amadeo, one brow cocked. "So, Mr. Amadeo. Anything in your defense?"
"I haven't done anything," Amadeo replied, voice eerily calm. "So what defense?"
Levy crossed his arms. "Still denying it, huh?"
"Officer, please. You've seen me searching for Elle. Who the hell kidnaps someone and files a missing person's report on themselves?"
Levy scoffed. "More people than you'd think. And I think you're one of them. Unless, of course, you want to explain why you were sweating and fidgeting when you saw the footage?"
Amadeo blinked rapidly. "No, it's not like that—"
"I what? I kidnapped her?"
"No!"
Levy stepped forward. "Then where were you yesterday? You were at a bar, weren't you? Drinking. Partying. Not exactly the kind of thing someone does when someone close to them is missing."
Amadeo's lips parted. Nothing came out.
Levy leaned in slightly. "What happened? Cat got your tongue? Or were the drinks too strong?"
Amadeo stared down at the table.
"I'll give you a few minutes," Levy muttered, shaking his head. "You'd better come up with a better story."
He left the interrogation room, jaw clenched, meeting Dylan just outside.
"Got something," Dylan said grimly. "Finn gave us the account number he got the money from. I traced it."
Levy raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"It's registered under Amadeo's name."
Levy's eyes darkened. "You're kidding."
"I wish I was."
Without another word, Levy stormed back into the room. He slammed the door shut behind him and tossed a folder onto the table in front of Amadeo.
"Listen here, Mr. Amadeo. We've got evidence. This silence won't save you."
Amadeo barely looked up. "What evidence?"
"The account Finn got the money from. It's under your name." He paused, leaning forward. "So. What do you say now?"
Amadeo lowered his head onto the table, laughing quietly. The sound was hollow, bitter, and far from amused.
Then he looked up, eyes glassy. "I looked anxious in the footage... not because of the man," he said. "It was the car."
Levy blinked. "The car?"
"It belongs to Cecil. He's... my friend."
Levy's stare hardened. "So your friend is involved, too?"
"Not too," Amadeo said slowly. "He's the one behind all this. Him… and maybe his girlfriend Juana. I don't know."
Levy gave a sarcastic scoff. "Right. Now it's your 'friend'."
"You don't have to believe me," Amadeo said, reaching into his pocket. "Just check the hospital CCTV. Juana was there when Elle was admitted. She gave me this."
He slid a crumpled note across the table.
Levy glanced at it, then snatched it up and left the room again.
"Dylan," he called. "Get me the CCTV footage from the hospital. And the bank, too."
Minutes later, the footage confirmed it—Juana was at the hospital, standing at the reception desk, clearly seen passing something to Amadeo. Levy frowned.
"Find everything you can on this Juana and this Cecil guy."
Dylan hesitated. "Sir... don't you know who she is?"
Levy looked at him. "Should I?"
"She's the granddaughter of Lieutenant Archer Davis. And her father? One of the biggest businessmen in the country."
Levy dropped into his chair, rubbing his forehead. "Oh, hell."
As if the puzzle couldn't get more twisted.
Dylan continued, "And about the bank footage…"
He placed the stills in front of Levy. His eyes scanned them.
It wasn't Amadeo.
The man who opened the account under Amadeo's name—it was the same man from the dashcam footage, the one standing beside the car during the accident.
Levy felt his blood run cold.
The pieces were starting to fit together, but the picture they formed was worse than he'd imagined. A well-connected girl, a fake bank account, a kidnapped woman, and a man being used as a scapegoat.
And at the center of it all—Amadeo.
Or was he just the next pawn?