Chapter 23
Snowflakes
“Mrs Snow?”
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I jerked back to reality at Mr Gerald’s voice, lifting my gaze to find the entire meeting room staring at me. My eyes met Mr Gerald’s, arms folded across his chest, expression unimpressed.
“What should I address you as? Mrs Bani? Mrs Ares? Mrs Snow? Or Mrs…”
“Snow,” I cut in quietly. “My name is Snowflakes.”
“Well,” he drawled, “I think we should address you with more respect, since you are apparently important enough to skip the profiling training section that others your age, or older, more serious, more focused are doing right now. You got the job overnight, so maybe we should call you ‘madam. After all, you’re the only daughter of the Frost family, the Alpha’s daughter, and your husband happens to be…”
“I was appointed because the offer from four years ago still stands,” I interrupted again, softer but firm. He was trying too hard to make it obvious I didn’t deserve to be in that room. It was starting to get under my skin. “You must have forgotten the notorious murderer who was at large four years ago. My profiling helped capture him. I was asked to join H.O.W.L then. That offer wasn’t handed to me on a golden platter. I earned it.”
Silence fell. For a long, heavy moment.
Then he lifted his chin and clapped, slow, mocking. Heat crawled up my spine. It won’t be easy here. I know it.
“Then we must bow to you since you’re the hotshot,” he said. “How about you come brief us on this case, then?”
I bit my lower lip, not sure what to do or say, when Sera spoke from where she stood.
“She’s just reporting to duty today. Why don’t you do the briefing, Gerald?”
He held my gaze far too long. He didn’t want to, but in the end, he lowered his eyes to the pile of documents on the desk and nodded.
“Let’s get to work. Since Mrs… Snow here is already popular, we’ll skip introductions and the welcoming party,” he said, turning to the screen and pressing a button.
The image of a smiling man appeared. Mr Hanba Billion.
“Everyone knows Mr Hanba Billion,” Mr Gerald began. “A successful business tycoon. Few
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nights ago, he was found dead in his vacation home. His throat sliced open. His wife, Cherry, reported it and demanded justice. Now the profiling department, detective team, and forensic unit will work together to find the killer.”
I exhaled slowly, focusing. It was going to be an interesting case. But my heart lurched the moment the second image appeared.
“This is the road leading to Mr Hanba’s vacation home,” Gerald continued. “A few blocks away from Mooncrest pack. The security guards were alerted by Cherry, and the suspect, obviously the killer was chased down this road before he disappeared into thin air. One guard claimed he stabbed the assailant with a silver knife, and…”
Coldness washed over me.
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The killer disappeared into thin air that night?
Doesn’t that sound like… Cupid Godlike?
“We’re at a dead end,” Mr Gerald said. “No witnesses. No vital evidence. The crime scene was wiped clean and…‘
“Blood on the floor?” I murmured, unable to stop myself.
The room went silent.
“What?” Mr Gerald asked, eyes narrowing.
“You said the guard stabbed him with a silver knife,” I said, trying to stay collected despite the growing tension. “The killer must have bled. The blood could be analyzed by the forensic department. That should give us…”
“We did,” Sera said gently.
I turned to her.
“It showed nothing,” she explained. “The killer is a rogue. Rogue blood has no identity.”
Confusion twisted inside me. But he is… Godlike. Isn’t he? Or was I mistaken?
“Well,” Wrinks, the detective leader, spoke up, “that leaves us with one option. We start from the beginning. There must be something we missed. Or perhaps… a witness.”
“Good. Contact us if you need assistance. Meeting dismissed,” Mr Gerald said.
People began gathering their things. The detective team, three members. The forensic team, three. The profiling team, three, and with me, four.
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Chapter 23
Sera squeezed my hand before leaving.
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“You should check on Eshan before you go. He’s probably in the building.”
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I nodded and thanked her, watching her leave. Marcus smiled too, and I bowed lightly in return. Soon, everyone had left except Mr Gerald, one woman profiler, and the man beside her.
I slowly turned and found Mr Gerald staring at me with thinly veiled disapproval. He didn’t want me here. At all.
“I don’t care who you are,” he said flatly. “Who your father is, your brothers, or your husband. You’ll report to duty as a normal staff member. No special treatment here.” His gaze dropped to my dress, then back up. “Snow.”
He walked out, leaving a heavy silence behind.
A low groan sounded behind me.
I turned. The two remaining profilers stood there. The woman’s stare was as sharp and cutting as Mr Gerald’s. She got up, looked me over without a word, and walked out.
The man remained. Young, handsome, maybe only slightly older than me. He picked up a stack of documents from his desk and approached.
“Quince Hold,” he introduced himself with a small, warm smile, handing me the papers. “This is the official document you’ll submit to the director to get your badge. Welcome to the profiling department, Snow. I’m your fan.”
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Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.

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