The Hostage Stole My Fiance

"I will take the car." I snatched the heavy silver key fob from Alexander's palm.

The cold metal pressed into my skin, grounding me. I turned my back on the shattered ceramic and the scattered papers of my ruined apartment, marching straight out the front door.

Alexander followed, his dress shoes silent on the hallway carpet.

"You are making the right choice," he stated as we reached the elevator.

"I am done playing the quiet, supportive girlfriend." I hit the down button. "I need my empire back."

"My team will have the Vance Group boardroom prepped by noon," he replied, his tone strictly business.

The elevator doors parted, and I stepped inside, leaving my old life behind.

At eight o'clock the next morning, I pushed through the heavy glass doors of the Fourteenth Precinct.

The bullpen hummed with ringing phones and the loud chatter of patrol officers swapping shift details. I ignored the noise, clutching my printed resignation letter in my right hand.

"Hey, Vance," Officer Miller called out from his desk, pausing mid-bite of a bagel. "Briggs wants you in his office. Right now. He is furious."

I did not stop walking. I headed straight for the frosted glass door at the back of the room. I turned the brass knob and pushed it open.

"She dragged me by my hair and threw me into the wall!" Samantha sobbed loudly.

She sat in the leather guest chair, clutching a crumpled tissue to her chest. A thick, pristine white bandage wrapped completely around her forehead.

Charles stood right beside her, resting a protective hand on her shoulder. He twirled a set of Porsche keys around his index finger. The metal rings jingled with a steady, arrogant rhythm.

Captain Briggs sat behind his massive oak desk, his face flushed a deep, angry red.

"Shut the door, Natalie," Briggs barked.

I pushed the door closed. It clicked shut, cutting off the noise from the bullpen.

"Explain yourself," Briggs demanded, slamming his thick palm flat against the wood. "Mr. Lawson here says you assaulted his fiancée last night."

"Fiancée?" I scoffed, crossing my arms. "That was fast. You just bought the ring yesterday."

Charles stopped spinning his keys. He gripped them tight in his fist. "We are getting married today. Something you tried to ruin yesterday by acting like a complete lunatic."

"She attacked me unprovoked, Captain," Samantha whimpered. She dabbed at her perfectly dry eyes with the tissue. "I just went to her apartment to pick up Charles's clothes. She went crazy. She hit me with a vase."

"A vase?" I stared at the ridiculous gauze wrapped around her head. "I slapped your cheek. That bandage is on your forehead."

Samantha shrank back, burying her face against Charles's expensive suit jacket. "Make her stop yelling at me, Charles. I feel dizzy."

"Enough!" Briggs roared, standing up. His chair screeched loudly against the linoleum floor. "I do not care about your domestic drama, Vance. I care about the reputation of this precinct. Mr. Lawson is a major donor to our benevolent fund."

"He is broke," I corrected, keeping my voice flat. "I fired him last night. Those Porsche keys he is holding? Leased with a company card I froze at midnight."

Charles's face turned a violent shade of purple. "She is delusional, Captain. She thinks because she forged some fake ownership papers, she owns my tech company. I already called my lawyers. But that is not why we are here."

He leaned over the desk, fixing Briggs with a hard stare.

"I have three reporters from the City Chronicle waiting outside the station," Charles threatened. "If you do not handle this right now, the headline tomorrow will read that an off-duty cop brutally assaulted an innocent woman."

Briggs's jaw clenched. He pointed a thick, trembling finger directly at my chest.

"You are a disgrace to this uniform, Natalie. I will not let you drag my station through the mud for a jealous grudge."

"Jealous?" I took a step closer to the desk. "He cheated on me with her. Then he tried to force me out of my own apartment."

"I do not care who slept with who!" Briggs yelled, veins popping in his thick neck. "I care about the press! You are going to fix this right now."

"Fix it how?" I asked.

"You are going to bow your head," Briggs ordered, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. "You will apologize to this woman, and you will beg for her forgiveness."

I stared at the captain, my facial muscles tightening. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Briggs snarled. "Bow. Now. Or I will strip your badge, revoke your license, and make sure you never work in law enforcement again."

Charles smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Listen to your boss, Nat. Get on your knees. Maybe Samantha will drop the charges if you cry."

Samantha peeked out from behind Charles's arm. A tiny, triumphant smile played on her pink lips. She adjusted the bandage on her forehead, making sure it sat perfectly straight.

"You want me to bow to a woman faking a head injury?" I asked.

"I want a full confession and a public apology," Briggs insisted. "Do it, Vance. Do not throw away your pension over pride."

I looked at Briggs. A man I had respected for three years, now reduced to a frightened puppet for a man who did not even have a dime to his name anymore.

I reached into my jacket pocket. My fingers wrapped around the cold metal of my police shield.

"You want an apology?" I asked, keeping my voice dangerously low.

"I want obedience," Briggs snapped.

I pulled the badge out.

I raised my right hand and slammed the heavy silver shield down onto the oak desk. The metal cracked against the wood, leaving a deep dent right next to Briggs's coffee mug.

Briggs jumped, his eyes widening in shock.

Charles took a quick step back, dropping his keys. They clattered loudly onto the floorboards.

"I quit," I said, my voice slicing through the tense silence.

Briggs stared at the discarded badge, his mouth hanging slightly open. "You are throwing your career away? Over this?"

"I am throwing it away because this place is a joke," I replied.

I pulled the resignation letter from my left hand and tossed it onto the desk. It landed right on top of the silver shield.

"I am not a cop anymore," I stated, shifting my gaze to Samantha. Her false tears had completely stopped. "Which means I do not have to play by department rules."

Samantha swallowed hard, her hand drifting up to touch her fake bandage again. "Charles, let's just go. We told him what happened. She is fired."

"No, we are not leaving until she is in handcuffs," Charles insisted, though his voice wavered slightly. He bent down to pick up his keys, keeping his eyes on me. "Arrest her, Captain."

I let out a sharp, cold laugh.

The sound startled all three of them. Briggs frowned, his confusion replacing his anger.

I leaned over the desk, planting both hands firmly on the edge, and looked directly into the captain's eyes.

"I quit," I repeated, "but she is the one going to jail."