006

Miranda's POV:

The feeling of being cornered closed in on me. The walls got closer, and closer, threatening to crumble on my head.

Calm down Miranda. It's all in your head. It's not real. You're not going to be crushed.

Dr Spencer stared at me, his eyes amused and angry and the same time. He leaned forward on his elbows, staring deep into my eyes. I leaned back.

So much is going on that I can't wrap my head around it.

He mentioned my mother. How the fuck does he know my mother? I don't remember him. My memory is fucking good. If I have met this face, I will know.

My throat clogged up and I swallowed thickly. Something is terribly wrong.

And I can't place my finger on it.

"What do you mean by I'm ruffling feathers?"

He leaned back and reclined in his chair. "You are a curious little thing. You always want to know everything. How. Why. When. Where. It's quiet admirable, but problem is you don't know when to stop."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice close to trembling. I cursed myself for sounding so weak and hardened my eyes.

"Let's just say, you are responsible for the deaths of your crew today. Whoever did it was searching for you."

"You're lying."

"What would I benefit from lying to you?"

"What exactly do you want from me?"

He rose to his feet. "You took something from me. You took something from all of us. And you will return it all."

I bit my tongue to prevent myself from asking more questions. He's lying. He's baiting me. I didn't take anything from anyone.

He turned to that man, I refuse to call him by my brother's name. "Keep an eye on her. Send someone to clean her up."

"Yes father." He replied, like a well trained dog. Come to think of it, there's no individual thought behind his eyes.

"If she misbehaves or tries to escape, which I know she will, shoot her. But not her face. Maybe her leg or something."

"Of course, father. I will do as you say."

I glared at him. Bastard. The both of them are insane. Father and son alike.

Escape? I have no idea where I am. Or how I got here. I have to get back to the station. I have to meet the chief and explain this to her. I have to find a solution. Anything at all that will get me out of this mess. It's been a day. I'm sure that I would figure something out.

That man stared at me from the doorway, his dead eyes narrowed into a glare.

"The fuck are you looking at?" I snapped at him.

He strode in, closing the space between us and stood before me. He grabbed my chin forcefully and turned me head to the side. A crink appeared in my neck and the pain shot right to my brain.

I screamed bloody murder. "What the fuck is your problem?! You want to snap my neck?!"

He didn't reply. Instead he grabbed the sleeve of my gown and yanked it down, exposing my shoulder. "Hmm, that is strange." He mused to himself.

"What?!"

He bent down and sniffed my neck. Disgust rolled in my belly and I wished that I could kick him so hard his future generation would feel it.

"Amnesia," He said, his breath cold against my skin. "Your scent, this scent, it's Amnesia."

My heart dropped to my stomach. My blood chilled, down to my fingertips. "What?"

He pulled back and looked at me. "I would have sworn I saw—"

"Get the fuck away from me!" I jerked my head back and snapped my teeth around his hand. He was faster, pulling back before I could bite him.

He sighed through his nose. "So annoying."

"Step back from me, if you want your face in one fucking piece."

He raised a brow. "What can you do tied up?"

"You wanna bet?"

"No, thank you." He pulled my sleeve back up and stepped back. "I will see you soon, officer. Take the time alone to reflect on your crimes."

"Bastard."

If my insult affected him, he didn't show it. He calmly walked out and shut the door behind him.

But his words rang in my head.

Amnesia.

That was the name of my mother's favorite perfume. She stopped using it years ago, but I still liked it and I continued to use it.

Cole like it too.

One time we snooped around Mom's vanity and found it. We ended up breaking the bottle. We were so scared so we soaked it all up with our clothes. Mom shook her head when she found us, soaked with her favorite perfume and looking at her with teary eyes. She told us to stop touching her things. Needless to say, we stank of Amnesia for weeks on end, the scent soaked into our skin.

I shook those memories out of my head.

It's just a perfume. It may be rare, but it's not exclusive. Anyone else can use it.

It doesn't mean anything. It's just fucking perfume. I bet this bastard learned it from one of his girlfriends or shit.

I don't care.

****

Three days passed.

I knew it was three because a maid would appear and serve me food. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. At the same time. I hadn't seen Spencer, but that man had been a regular sight. He always stood by the door with a gun, watching as the maid served my food and waited to take the plates back.

Jokes on them if they think I'm going to eat anything. I'm not stupid. The first time, I woke up with no memory of how I had fallen asleep, my clothes changed and my hair damp.

Today, the routine was broken.

The maid and that man appeared at the door. Except this time she has a bundle of clothes in her hands.

"It is time for you to shine, officer." He said, his tone carrying fake cheer. "Get dressed. I am waiting for you outside. "

"Dressed for what?" I asked. Three days without food or water made my voice dry, and my head heavy. My vision went blurry and I blinked hard.

"There is a job for you." He turned to the maid. "Dress her up. If she protests, break her arm. She has two of them, I am certain she will not miss one."

"Yes sir."

He walked out. The maid helped me get dressed, silent and efficient. I reminded myself that she wasn't the one I had beef with. For all I knew, she could be a victim just as I was.

"What is this?" I asked, holding up the dress I was to wear.

"Please miss, put it on and don't ask me any questions."

I glared at her. Then I sighed heavily. She looks young, about my age. With an air of coldness around her.

The dress was a sad excuse for an outfit. Black, shiny, and cropped so low that I was sure my ass would be on display.

I swallowed bile and forced myself to wear it. Thankfully, it stopped midway of my thighs. The maid did my hair and all that, and I was ready. Thank goodness i wore stilettos right now. The pointy heel would come in handy for stabbing out an eye or so.

Outside, that man was waiting. His eyes scanned me, and I felt a chill seep into my bones. He didn't look at me like I was human. More like I was a piece of furniture at a garage sale.

Revolting.

He motioned to the hallway with the gun. "Move."

"Fuck yourself."

"Are all officers normally this...dirty mouthed?"

"Why don't you ask them? When I handcuff your ass and haul you in fucking jail."

He pressed the barell of the gun to my lower back. The chill from the hollow metal seeped through the thin material of the dress.

"Move, officer." He said, his voice dangerously low beside my ear.

I wasn't afraid of guns. But that was mostly when I was the one holding it. "I'm going to arrest you. You and your father."

"You are welcome to try. You will not be the first, and neither will you be the last." He nudged the gun and I took that as a clue to keep walking.

We walked through the hallways, my eyes taking note of every turn and every mark in the walls that could help me later escape this place.

We got to a dark mahogany door and paused. He walked out from behind me, and I exhaled a small sigh when he removed the gun.

"Behave yourself now, officer. Whatever happens beyond this door is out of our control."

"Shove your care up your ass."

"I do not care for you, please, do not flatter yourself."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Whatever."

He pushed the door open and shoved me inside.

My hands balled into fists at my sides. The door opened to reveal a room lit by a dim fireplace. There was a long conference table at the centre of the room, behind it a large floor to ceiling window that showed the night sky.

Spencer sat at the edge of the table. He looked up at mr and smiled. "My darling officer Fontaine. Welcome. "

I ignored him. All my focus was on the man seated at the other end.

My heart skipped two beats.

His cold eyes were as I remembered from the balcony. Maybe it was the firelight. Maybe it was the choked up atmosphere of this place. He looked even deadlier. And even more handsome than I remember. He looked at me like he willed me to burst into flames and ash right where I stood.

"Ah," Spencer said. "Have you two met prior to now?"

"No." I said.

"Very well. Officer, this is Mr Federico. Although I am skeptical if you haven't met him before. Seeing as he is the one you've been investigating."

I know. I know that very fucking well.

Don Federico. The man behind my brother's disappearance.