Chapter 207

Alexander POV

“I can’t believe they arrested him,” I muttered, sitting beside Alexander in the car as it sped toward the police station.

“They’d be answering to me if they hadn’t,” Alexander growled, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “There were plenty of witnesses, and it’s a car that stands out. Stupid choice for someone trying to pull off a stunt like that.”

“So what exactly do they need us for at the station?” I asked, still confused.

Alexander had just told me they’d caught the drunk driver and that we needed to go to the station, but that was all he had said before rushing us out of the club and into the car.

I was still reeling from his sudden appearance, too stunned to question anything until now.

“I didn’t get a good look at him,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s not like I can identify him.”

“It’s not that,” Alexander replied, his voice sharp. He glanced at me briefly, his eyes dark. “I know him.”

The tone of his voice gave me pause. Before I could ask, the feeling washed over me—he didn’t mean that he knew him socially.

“Is he another rogue assassin?” I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the privacy of the car.

Alexander nodded grimly.

“So it was targeted,” I said, taking a shaky breath. “I was right.”

“You were,” he confirmed, his jaw tightening. “I’m just glad James was with you.”

“So am I,” I replied. “He saved my life again.”

“If he keeps this up, I’ll owe him more than I know how to repay,” Alexander said, a wry smile flickering on his face. But then his expression grew serious. “But right now, our focus is on figuring out who hired this man and why.”

“The ‘why’ seems kind of obvious,” I murmured. “He was trying to kill me.”

“But who benefits from that?” Alexander said, his eyes narrowing. “That was a brazen attempt. It wouldn’t have been done if there wasn’t powerful motivation behind it.”

I hesitated, my voice soft. “I mean… only one name comes to mind.”

Alexander nodded, then frowned, his gaze intense. “But who else? She wouldn’t have had the resources to do this alone, not while she’s on the run,” he said, his voice edged with frustration.

“Someone’s helping her try to kill me?” I asked, disbelief creeping in. With David and Archer both behind bars, I couldn’t think of anyone else who would hate me enough to go this far.

“The reason I had to rush off to the border is because she was spotted crossing,” Alexander continued, his tone darkening. “But she wasn’t alone. There was another woman with her—a woman who hid her face. We haven’t been able to identify her yet, but I’m hoping this guy will give us some answers.”

“That makes sense,” I said, “but why do you want me there?”

Alexander had been careful to shield me from this sort of thing in the past. His sudden appearance, insisting that I come with him, didn’t add up.

He glanced at me briefly. “I’m not sure if I’ll know who this person is. It’s better to have you get the same information as me, so that if something clicks, you can tell me right away.”

I nodded slowly. Of course, that was the reason. It made perfect sense. But the uneasy feeling in my chest refused to dissipate.

“I can’t believe the police are allowing you to do this,” I said, still shaken.

Alexander looked at me, his gaze intense, before turning his attention back to the road. “I don’t know if ‘allowing’ is the correct word,” he said, his tone heavy with meaning.

My eyes went wide. Had he paid off the police too? Was he that powerful in the criminal world? Suddenly, everything about how he had handled Dr. McIntyre made sense. Alexander was more connected and powerful than I could’ve ever imagined.

“So what exactly am I walking into?” I asked, my voice tight with anxiety.

“They’ll have him in the interrogation room when we arrive,” Alexander explained, his voice steady.

“Aren’t those rooms monitored by cameras?” I asked, suspicion creeping in.

“They’ll malfunction,” he said nonchalantly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

I froze for a moment, the implication of his words sinking in. The police were going to cover up Alexander’s involvement in this. And it all seemed so routine to him.

We arrived at the police station, and Alexander parked around the back. We walked up to the door together, and he knocked three times. On the third knock, the door swung open, and an officer with a grim expression motioned for us to enter.

He led us down the hallway, pointed to a door, and stepped away, leaving us alone. I could hardly believe this was happening, but I did my best to mask the confusion and shock on my face.

Alexander was right—we needed whatever information this man could give us, and I didn’t want to risk messing it up by showing how uncomfortable I was.

We entered the room to find a tall, broad-built man with messy stubble and bloodshot eyes, slumped over the table. He heard the door open, looked up, and I watched all the color drain from his face.

He stared at Alexander, recognition flashing in his eyes. For a moment, I wondered how I hadn’t noticed before how dramatic some people's reactions to Alexander were. I should have put it together, but I chalked it up to nerves around someone so well-known.

Now, the fear was unmistakable.

“Oh hell,” the man muttered, sitting up straight.

“I assume I don’t need to introduce myself,” Alexander said, stepping up to the long table. He pulled an empty chair out for me before sitting beside me. “You can make this much easier on yourself if you just answer my questions.”

“Do I look suicidal?” the man snapped. “Of course I’m going to answer your questions.”

His voice was loud and clear, but I could see his hands shaking as he clasped them together on the table in front of him.

“What exactly were you doing tonight?” Alexander asked, his voice steely.

“I was paid a substantial amount of money to run over your wife,” the man answered without hesitation.

“Yet you claim not to be suicidal?” Alexander’s voice had dropped into the low, chilling register I recognized as the voice of the Ice King.

“I’m not,” the man said, his voice cracking. “Which is why I’m going to answer all your questions.” He repeated the words, as if trying to convince himself. “Just tell me what you want to know.”

“Who hired you?” Alexander demanded.

“Amanda Gray,” the man replied immediately, without hesitation.

“Who else?” Alexander pressed.

The man’s expression faltered. He looked at me, confusion clear in his eyes, then glanced back at Alexander almost helplessly. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Amanda Gray is the only one I spoke to. She’s the one who paid me and told me what she wanted done.”

“Was she alone?” Alexander asked, his tone sharp.

“She’s the only one I saw,” the man said, his eyes darting between us. “She pulled up in a car. She was the only one who got out. I don’t know if there was anyone else in the vehicle. The windows were heavily tinted.”

Alexander stared at him for a long, tense moment, his gaze unyielding. Then, without another word, he stood abruptly and extended his hand to me.

I took his hand, and he pulled me up. We left the room in silence.

I could feel the frustration radiating from him. It wasn’t the answer he wanted. It didn’t give us any information about who was helping Amanda, but it did confirm that she was the one behind the attack.

“What do we—”

Alexander turned suddenly and slammed his fist into the wall, a growl of frustration escaping as he did so. I stared in shock at the angry outburst, his hand embedded in the drywall.

My heart raced as fear coursed through me.

Alexander’s anger had always been kept in check, but it seemed like the situation was becoming too much for him to handle. If he was feeling like this, then we might really be in trouble.