Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 80

"He's not going to tell us anything," Willa said, her voice steady. "He's sticking to the 'creepy guy' defense. If we drag him to the precinct, they'll hold him for forty-eight hours max, and then he's right back on the street."

Sophie threw her hands in the air in frustration. "Fine. Wyatt, let him walk."

Wyatt released his grip, and the man didn't waste a second, bolting out of the alley like his life depended on it.

Sophie watched him disappear before turning to Willa, lowering her voice. "Do you seriously think this is going to lead us to whoever hired him?"

"I don't know." Willa shook her head slowly. "But we won't know unless we try."

Sophie looped her arm through Willa's. "Alright, let's get out of here. You're staying at my place tonight."

Willa looked at her helplessly. "Sophie, you really don't have to—"

"Not an option," Sophie interrupted firmly. "He might have run off, but what if he has backup? You're coming with me, end of discussion."

Willa opened her mouth to argue, but Sophie cut her off again.

"Save it. It's happening. Wyatt, go bring the car around."

Wyatt gave a sharp nod and jogged toward the main road.

Sophie practically dragged Willa down the street, but a rush of genuine warmth blossomed in Willa's chest. "Thank you, Sophie."

"Oh, please," Sophie waved her off with a snort. "If you want to thank me, just be a good girl and come home with me so I don't have a heart attack worrying about you."

Willa smiled softly and gave in.

This wasn't her first time visiting Sophie's penthouse, but the sheer, sprawling emptiness of the luxury apartment caught her off guard every single time.

"Don't you get creeped out living in a place this big by yourself?"

"Creeped out by what?" Sophie kicked off her heels and walked barefoot onto the marble floor. "Even a ghost would need a GPS in here."

Willa laughed, slipping into a pair of guest slippers by the entryway.

Suddenly, a deep, commanding voice echoed from the living room.

"Nice of you to finally show up."

Willa froze and looked over. A stern-faced man in his early thirties was sitting rigidly on the designer sofa, idly flipping through a magazine.

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