Her Perfect Alibi

Chloe’s POV

Orion’s eyes bore into me, his grip tightening around the handkerchief. The room seemed to shrink, the air thinning as the weight of his suspicion pressed on my chest. I couldn’t falter. Not now.

I let out a shaky breath, forcing my expression into one of confusion and fragile vulnerability. “I don’t know how it got there, Orion.” My voice wavered, soft and full of hurt. “But you know I’ve had that handkerchief forever. You’ve seen me with it.”

His stare remained cold and calculating, his jaw tense. “So how did it end up outside?”

I swallowed hard and turned away slightly, as if trying to gather my composure. Let him see me struggling, let him doubt his anger. Then I turned back, letting my gaze meet his with a mix of sadness and frustration.

“Because I left it in the laundry room yesterday.” I emphasized the last words, my tone rising just enough to sound defensive. “Orion, think. It’s been laundry day all week. I probably tossed it in there with the rest of my clothes and forgot. What if one of the staff dropped it outside?” I looked at him pleadingly. “It makes more sense than whatever you’re accusing me of.”

His brow furrowed, doubt creeping across his features. He opened his mouth to say something, but I seized the moment to tilt my head, my voice softening into something raw and wounded. “Or do you think I somehow planted it there myself? Why would I? To frame myself?”

Orion hesitated, his anger flickering into uncertainty. I pressed on, tears shimmering at the corners of my eyes. “I can’t believe you’d even consider that. After everything I’ve been through, after what that man did to me… you think I’d help him do something like this?” My voice cracked, breaking just perfectly.

His gaze faltered, and I saw his walls begin to crumble. The guilt was setting in—I could see it in the way his shoulders sagged, his hands loosening their grip on the fabric.

Orion exhaled slowly, his gaze flickering from the handkerchief back to me. He looked torn—his mind battling between logic and the emotions I’d carefully manipulated. He didn’t want to believe I could be involved, and I knew exactly how to exploit that.

“You’re right,” he muttered finally, his voice softer now. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Relief flooded through me, but I made sure to keep my expression vulnerable. I let my lips tremble just slightly as I whispered, “Thank you for believing me.”

He set the evidence down on a nearby table and wrapped his arms around me again, pulling me into the warmth of his chest. I rested my head against him, hiding the satisfied glint in my eyes.

Orion kissed the top of my head, murmuring, “I’m sorry, Chloe. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered back, my voice trembling for effect. “I know how stressful this is… I don’t blame you.”

He held me tighter, and I let myself sink into his embrace, feeling the tension leave his body.

The handkerchief had been a mistake, but I’d salvaged it—twisting the truth just enough to keep him off my trail. For now, Orion believed me, and Ava was still out of the picture.

But I’d have to be more careful. I couldn’t afford another slip-up.

Because the next time?

There wouldn’t be an explanation.

The faint wail of sirens grew louder, breaking through the tense silence as I remained nestled in Orion’s arms. He hadn’t let go of me since the handkerchief incident, and while I relished the comfort his guilt gave me, my mind raced ahead. Stay calm. Stay ahead.

The cops arrived moments later, flooding the house with sharp voices and heavy footsteps. The guards let them in quickly, and soon, the living room swarmed with blue uniforms, radios crackling with updates. I sat on the edge of the couch, pulling a throw blanket around my shoulders, my head low, my face carefully composed. Vulnerable. Innocent.

Orion stood near the fireplace, tense and brooding as he spoke with the lead officer—a stout man with graying hair and suspicious eyes. I could feel the officer’s gaze flick toward me every few seconds, and I instinctively tightened the blanket around myself, making myself smaller.

“Sir, we’ll need a full account of what happened tonight,” the officer said gruffly, pulling a small notepad from his pocket. “Start from the beginning.”

Orion dragged a hand through his hair, clearly agitated as he began detailing the incident.

“And you don’t know what he looks like?” the officer pressed.

“No,” Orion replied firmly. “The perimeter guards didn’t spot anyone either before it happened. Whoever did this knew how to avoid being seen.”

The officer scribbled something down, then tilted his head toward me. “And you, Miss?”

I looked up at him slowly, wide-eyed and hesitant, as if reluctant to speak. I made sure my voice came out soft, a little shaky. “I didn’t see who it was.”

The officer studied me for a beat too long, as if trying to measure the weight of my words. I glanced down at my lap, as though overcome with lingering fear. When I looked back up, Orion had stepped closer to me, his presence almost protective.

“We have reason to believe this might not be random,” he said suddenly, his tone edged with anger.

The officer’s brows lifted. “What do you mean?”

Orion hesitated, then shot me a look—a silent cue. My heart raced, but I met his gaze and gave a small, subtle nod. Let him say it.

“We suspect it could be Chloe’s ex-boyfriend,” he said finally. “He… He’s dangerous. He’s done things before.”

The officer’s pen froze mid-scribble as his attention zeroed in on me. “Your ex-boyfriend? Can you give me his name?”

I swallowed thickly, letting a shadow of fear cross my face before I whispered, “Matteo. Matteo Banks.”

The officer wrote it down quickly. “And what can you tell us about him?”

I looked down again, as though the very mention of Matteo was painful. “He—he was controlling. Obsessive. When I tried to leave him…” I trailed off, letting my voice crack slightly. “He made threats. He said I’d regret walking away. I thought it was just words, but…” I looked up at the officer, eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears. “I didn’t think he… would take Ava.”

The officer nodded, though he wore a skeptical expression as he jotted down notes. “We’ll need more details on Mr. Banks. Address, prior incidents, anything you have. Our team will comb through the property and secure the perimeter while we look for clues.”

But as the officers moved through the house, collecting evidence and shouting orders, I felt a flicker of unease. I had given them a name—a ghost from thin air—but the more people searching, the more risks there were.

A thought just popped into my head as I remained still; What if there is an actual Matteo Banks existing peacefully somewhere in this city? Well that would be easy to handle.

I would just make sure he remains a ghost from thin air.