The moment Alex’s long strides carried him through the office door, Marco stepped forward to greet him and gave a brief rundown of Julian’s arrest.

“When we arrived, he had already changed clothes and the living room lights were on. The second he heard the doorbell, he came straight out to answer, like he’d been sitting there, waiting for the police to take him in.”

“Did you find anyone else in his house?” Alex asked.

Marco shook his head. “No one. He was extremely cooperative. I barely said we needed him to come down to the station to assist with the investigation, and without a word he followed us into the car. No surprise, no fear, no resistance. He was calm to the point of being unsettling.”

Alex nodded and pressed on,

“He’s in the interrogation room now? Said anything yet?”

“Not yet,” Marco replied, a trace of frustration showing on his face.

Alex gave another curt nod, as though he had already expected it, then issued orders,

“We brought back preliminary evidence. File for an arrest warrant and a search of Julian’s residence. I’ll go crack his mouth open.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the office, heading straight for the interrogation wing.

The door to Interrogation Room One swung open. Elijah turned his head, and when he saw it was Alex who walked in, he let out a quiet breath of relief. Then he gave Alex a little shrug, as if to say, “I’m done here.”

Alex gave a slight nod in greeting before striding straight up to Julian. His face was cold, his voice low and cutting,

“Where’s Bryce?”

Julian lifted his head to look at him. The corner of his mouth curled upward, and his eyes betrayed the pleasure he felt at seeing the man before him unraveling.

Though he’d been hauled into the station in the middle of the night, Julian still wore a perfectly pressed suit, not a single crease in sight. His tie sat neatly in place, and his cufflinks gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights.

Alex couldn’t miss the smugness in Julian’s eyes. Drawing in a slow, steady breath, he shifted tactics, choosing a softer approach.

“Dr. Wills, I’ll admit you’re a very intelligent man. We don’t have enough evidence to charge you with the deaths of Nathan Greer and Gavin Moore. If you stop now, you’re still a highly respected doctor, with money, property, and social standing.” His voice dropped into a calm, deliberate tone, hawk-like eyes narrowing as he scrutinized every flicker of expression on Julian’s face.

“So tell me, Dr. Wills, where is Bryce Holloway? Right now, all the evidence points against you. Cooperating with us is the only way you’ll lessen your punishment.”

Julian chuckled softly, as though savoring Alex’s performance, then lowered his gaze, letting it drift to the empty space on the table.

Alex pressed on, determined to chip away at him with reason and sincerity,

“Dr. Wills, to have everything you do now, you must have sacrificed a great deal. Are you really willing to bury your entire life with your own hands? Tell me, where is Bryce Holloway? He’s still alive, isn’t he?”

Alex spoke at length, but his words met nothing but silence. Eventually, as if Julian could no longer tolerate the constant buzzing in his ear, he simply shut his eyes, shutting out everyone around him.

Beneath the table, Alex clenched his fists. Frustration rose, burning in his throat. He studied every line of Julian’s face, desperate for some crack, some sign of wavering he could seize upon. But there was nothing. Julian sat with his eyes closed, nose straight, features perfectly still, sealed off from the entire outside world.

After more than half an hour of deadlock, Alex finally had no choice but to leave the interrogation room empty-handed.

Out in the hallway, Marco was already waiting. The moment he saw Alex step out, he quickly approached.

Alex asked in a low voice,

“Did you track where he went last night? Traffic cams, residential cameras, cell phone pings, anything suspicious?”

Marco nodded and handed him a stack of photos printed from security footage.

“The public camera across from Julian’s place caught him around eight p.m. yesterday. He was dragging a large suitcase out the door, on foot. Didn’t use his car, walked down the sidewalk heading toward the southern residential district.”

Alex frowned.

“On foot? With a suitcase that size?”

Marco nodded again, pointing at the photos.

“Exactly. He knew there was a camera at his front door, so he left no trail, no calls, no Uber, no credit card use.”

Alex let out a quiet huff.

Marco continued,

“Then around two a.m., another camera caught him returning. Empty-handed. Still walking. Completely calm expression - no rush, no nerves.”

“Can’t trace where he went?”

Marco shook his head. “We could try pulling footage from private businesses and home security systems nearby to follow his route, but that requires authorization from upstairs. And you know how time-consuming it is to knock on every door and request recordings. Right now…” Marco gave a slight shrug, enough for Alex to understand without further words.

Right now, they had everything: victim, suspect, preliminary evidence. But not time.

Alex swore under his breath. He could only hope Julian hadn’t completely lost it yet, and that Bryce was still alive.

Seething with frustration and urgency, Alex headed back to the SCIU office. By six a.m., the sun had already climbed high, and the first golden rays of the day cut through the windows, spilling long streaks across the tiled floor.

Inside the cluttered room, overflowing with paperwork, heavy with the bitter smell of instant coffee, surrounded by people with disheveled hair and hollow eyes after a sleepless night, Adrian’s presence seemed almost unreal, as if he belonged to an entirely different world.

He stood before the board, posture straight, one hand in his pocket, head tilted slightly as he listened to Lucy run through the latest analysis. His cream-white shirt was crisply pressed, collar undone at the top two buttons. A navy blazer hugged his slender frame, paired with tailored trousers of the same shade. The most striking detail was the pale blue silk scarf knotted loosely around his neck, its subtle wave-like pattern catching the light with deliberate elegance. He carried a faint fragrance, bergamot laced with cedarwood, the scent of confidence and control.

Under normal circumstances, Alex would’ve gladly paused to take in the “view” right in front of him. But one glance at his own unkempt state, such a stark contrast to Adrian’s meticulous polish, and a nameless fury ignited in his chest.

They’d been up all night, drained and ragged like this, wasn’t it all because of him?

At that moment, the very first thought that came to Alex’s mind was to drag this lunatic outside and beat the hell out of him.

But before he could act, Adrian walked up to him first, wearing that familiar false smile.

“Sorry, Captain. I must’ve slept too soundly last night, I didn’t hear your calls.”

The sharp glint in Alex’s eyes was murderous. He lowered his voice, each word edged with steel.

“You. Outside. We need to talk.”

But Adrian refused to play along this time. Behind the frameless lenses, his pale blue eyes gleamed with a faint trace of amusement.

“Not happening. I need to see Julian first. I think I’ve got a way to pry him open.”

Alex had to take several deep breaths just to keep his temper in check. Time was critical, no faster way to save Bryce than forcing Julian to talk. He had no choice but to yield.

He jabbed a finger toward Adrian, his gaze full of warning, as if to say: You just wait. Once this is over, I’ll deal with you. Then, with a heavy growl, he spat out,

“Move.”

Adrian stepped into Interrogation Room One, carrying two cups of coffee, one for himself, the other he placed gently in front of Julian. The cold overhead lights reflected off the glass wall, heightening the oppressive tension in the air.

Alex followed right behind, eyes locked on Adrian, inwardly on edge. He worried Adrian would once again resort to his cryptic word games with the suspect, dragging this mind duel on endlessly. Which meant Alex had no choice but to stay and keep watch over these two lunatics.

Julian lifted his head the moment Adrian entered. His eyes lit up, the weariness from earlier fading, replaced by a spark of barely contained amusement. He accepted the cup, muttering in a flat tone,

“Thanks.”

Adrian sat down. The interrogation chair seemed almost too small for his endlessly long legs, yet somehow, he managed to maintain a posture of effortless poise.

He locked eyes with Julian, lips curving faintly, and lifted his coffee cup as if toasting.

Not a word was spoken. From across the table, Julian mirrored the gesture, raising his own cup into the air before taking a slow sip.

The silence stretched on, thick with tension, before Adrian broke it first.

“Dr. Wills, are you really planning to keep quiet all the way through?”

Julian only smirked faintly, offering no reply.

As if expecting that, Adrian showed no disappointment. His voice remained unhurried, steady, like he was narrating some old, detached story.

“You don’t want to tell us a story? Perhaps about your sister, Helena.”

Julian’s expression didn’t move, but a faint ripple stirred in his eyes. Adrian caught it instantly, and pressed on.

“A psychologist who took vengeance on society because his sister killed herself. Three innocent lives lost.”

“All for a single woman, two Hollywood stars were forever erased from the stage.”

“The man behind the deaths of Nathan Greer and Bryce Holloway, a deranged psychologist, and a sister who died fifteen years ago.”

After each line, Adrian paused just long enough to gauge Julian’s reaction. Catching the flicker of unease in his opponent’s gaze, he pushed harder,

“So, which headline sounds better to you? The press has been breathing down the police’s neck for days, desperate for leaks. We can’t charge you yet, but scraps of gossip… always have a way of slipping out.”

“The evidence isn’t enough, I can only piece together fragments. But readers don’t need the full truth, do they? A striking headline, a haunting story… that’s enough to savor with breakfast.”

Adrian tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing.

“What do you think? How will fans react when they learn your sister is the reason their two idols are dead?”

Julian’s eyes went wide, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles in his face quivered, veins bulging across his forehead as he struggled to suppress his rage. His expression turned feral, as if he wanted nothing more than to leap across the table and tear Adrian apart.

Adrian merely shrugged, feigning helplessness.

“Too bad. We honestly don’t know. The only person who does refuses to open his mouth.” He glanced at his watch, then pointedly added, “Right now, it’s six thirty in the morning, the perfect time for breakfast news. And I imagine starting the day with a Hollywood-shaking scandal wouldn’t be such a bad choice.”

Julian’s chest rose and fell violently, betraying the turmoil beneath his strained composure. His face hardened, his eyes sharpened like blades, as though they could slice through Adrian’s frameless glasses and pierce straight into his chest.

But when the fury ebbed, Julian chose compromise, because his sister was the one soft spot left in his heart. He would not allow anyone to stain her name, not even slightly.

He sank back into his chair, forcing his breathing into calm rhythm, and finally spoke,

“The safe in my bedroom. Code 275086. A brown leather notebook.”

With that, he shut his eyes tight, shutting Adrian out completely.