Claimed By The Mafia Rogue King (Snow and Cupid) novel Chapter 275

Chapter 275

Snowflakes

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The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, depositing me onto the prosecutor floor. My heels clicked too loudly against the polished marble as I hurried toward the main office, pulse already racing.

I slipped inside just as Sera entered from the opposite corridor, our eyes met for a split second, a flicker of shared tension, before we both moved toward the long conference table.

The room had transformed since the last time I’d been here. Gone was the sterile, impersonal setup I remembered.

Now, dominating the far wall was a massive rotating evidence board, photos, timelines, red–string connections pinned like a spiderweb of violence.

Grainy crime–scene shots from four years ago stared back at us. Blood–spattered concrete, discarded clothing, blurred faces of witnesses long silenced.

Above it all hung a wide screen displaying the meeting timer, already ticking down from thirty minutes.

Sera and I stepped in together; the heavy door clicked shut behind us with finality.

Eshan glanced up, gave Vast a single nod. Vast crossed to the wall panel, pressed a discreet button. The floor–to–ceiling glass walls instantly frosted over, opaque and soundproof. No one outside would hear a

word.

Eshan exhaled slowly, the sound carrying in the sudden hush. Everyone was already seated.

Wrinks, Quince, Gerald, Zayah, Vast, files open, pens poised. Old case folders lay scattered across the table like unearthed bones.

“As of right now,” Eshan began, voice low and deliberate, “no one is a prosecutor. No one is a profiler, forensic expert, detective. Titles don’t matter. We lock in, we work until we have answers. Four years ago we gathered evidence… then the case was shut down abruptly. Left to rot.”

“Yes,” Wrinks confirmed, tapping a file. “We interviewed witnesses at the scene, but every single one vanished or recanted after the closure.”

“Fluid and semen were collected from the victim,” Sera added quietly, eyes flicking to me for half a heartbeat. “Stored properly when the case was sealed. The DNA should still be viable after four years.”

I swallowed hard, the words landing like stones in my stomach. Solid evidence. Undeniable. The kind that didn’t fade or lie.

Eshan nodded. “Good. Let’s start somewhere concrete. Profiling team, what do you have from four years ago?”

Gerald leaned forward, voice measured. “When we arrived at the scene, it was… different. There were footprints.”

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Chapter 275

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Wrinks pointed to the board. Pinned photographs showed clear boot prints in the blood–mixed dirt, multiple sizes, overlapping, careless.

“We documented them immediately.”

Gerald continued. “The prints suggest confidence. The culprits didn’t bother erasing their trail, like they believed there’d be no consequences. Like they were untouchable.”

“But then,” Quince murmured, voice edged with dark suggestion, “they saw the Frost brothers gearing up for blood. Suddenly the trail vanishes. They switched tactics, covered every tail at all costs.” He glanced sideways. “Judging by what happened to Mr. Castle.”

I looked at Sera. She gave one slow, grim nod, confirmation without words.

“Let’s get down to it then,” Eshan said, turning to Zayah, the older forensic specialist who’d stayed. “Zayah, you and Sera take the lab. Extract the DNA from the stored fluid samples. Run every marker, every possible match in the system. Profiling team, sort the photos, documents, witness statements. Look for anything that feels off, anything left out or buried. Wrinks, stand by for forensic results; if they pull a profile or upload hits, you cross–check against our old suspect list. Vast and I will handle the first victim interview tomorrow morning.”

I went still in my seat. The assignments were tight, rushed. Eshan wasn’t wasting time. He couldn’t. We didn’t have it. The case reopening had already sent ripples; someone would try to shut it down again soon.

“Let’s get started,” Eshan ordered, voice final.

I swallowed again, the weight settling heavy on my shoulders. Victim. Profiler. Two roles that should never overlap on the same case, yet here I was, both. The room felt smaller, the air thicker with everything unspoken.

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