Claimed By The Mafia Rogue King (Snow and Cupid) novel Chapter 282

Chapter 282

Snowflakes

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We are all gathered in the Echo 8 office now, the late–afternoon light slanting through the blinds in thin golden bars across the cluttered desks.

The DNA analysis terminal hums in the background still crawling, still teasing us with partial matches but the room’s attention has shifted to the playback of the interrogation looping silently on the main screen.

Wrinks has it paused on the exact frame where Ares’s leg starts that tiny, uncontrollable bounce under the table the moment Eshan says “Doctor Catina.”

Mr. Gerald breaks the quiet first.

“First thing is that he needs to be reclassified. Move him from witness to suspect, today if we can justify it internally.” He taps the edge of his notepad. “Fidgeting, word slips, baseline lies stacking up. Classic leakage. I’d recommend passive surveillance starting tonight. Tail him discreetly when he leaves. He’s rattled; rattled people make mistakes. He’ll slip again soon, I’d bet my pension on

it.”

Sera, leaning against the wall with her arms folded, nods toward the frozen image of Ares’s face, eyes wide for that split second before he forces the scoff.

“I’m not a profiler,” she says, “but gods, Eshan, look at him. That leg shake when you dropped Catina’s name? And the way his shoulders locked the instant Love Avenue came up? That’s not annoyance. That’s panic. Pure fight–or–flight trying to wear a poker

face.”

I speak before anyone else can, voice low enough that it almost disappears under the hum of the servers.

“It’s panic, yes… but it’s asymmetrical panic.”

Everyone turns to me.

I keep my eyes on the screen. “The leg shake with Catina was sharp, sudden adrenaline spike, like we’d just kicked over a hornet’s nest he thought was buried. But Love Avenue?” I point at the replay timestamp where Eshan first mentions the location. “Watch his hands. They don’t shake. They still. Completely. No micro–tremors, no white knuckles. That’s not fear of being caught somewhere he shouldn’t have been. That’s dread. The kind you feel when someone’s about to name the one thing you’ve spent four years convincing yourself no one will ever connect.”

Eshan tilts his head, studying the same frame.

“You’re saying Love Avenue isn’t about guilt over being present at the scene. It’s about something or someone else entirely.”

“Exactly.” I exhale slowly. “He wasn’t afraid we’d place him at the alley. He was afraid we’d place someone with him at Love Avenue. Someone he’s protecting. Or someone he’s terrified of.”

Silence ripples through the room again.

Wrinks breaks it, voice thoughtful.

“So Catina is the personal exposure, his direct involvement. Love Avenue is the bigger exposure, the third party, something outside Dark Alley Case?“‘

1/3

11:33 pm PPW.

Chapter 282

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“Or all three,” Mr. Gerald murmurs.

Eshan rubs a hand over his jaw.

“We need to know what happened on Love Avenue that night. Not just where Ares was, why he was there, and who else knew he’d be there.”

He turns to me.

“You should check the footage angle Vast pulled last night. There’s an old store–to–bar camera that caught a still of Ares four years. ago. Run it down. Ask the right questions. You’ll see what I saw.”

I nod. Vast is already moving, gathering the slim folder of printouts and a USB drive with the grainy stills. He hands them over without a word.

I accept the file, but before I can open it, the air in the room changes. Subtle, like pressure dropping before a storm.

I walk to the window almost on instinct.

Cupid’s car, matte black, low–slung, unmistakable, slides to a smooth stop just beyond the H.O.W.L. perimeter fence.

My pulse kicks up.

I turn back to Eshan. He’s already watching me, reading the shift in my posture.

I cross to him, take his hand gently.

“Can I have an hour? Maybe two?”

He searches my eyes.

“You’re going somewhere.”

I nod. Quiet. Steady.

“The Moon Tower.”

His brows lift fractionally. He waits, sensing there’s more.

“I’m past due for surgery, Eshan. I need to know why my wolf still won’t surface. I need… answers.”

“You can’t just walk into the Celestial Ground without an appointment.”

A small, tired smile tugs at my mouth. “I have one.”

He goes very still.

I squeeze his hand once.

“I’ll be back as soon as I leave there. I’ll be safe. I promise.”

Long seconds stretch. I brace for the protective older–brother lecture, the list of reasons why it’s too dangerous, too soon, too…

He leans in instead, presses a soft kiss to my temple.

2/3

HOME

11:33 pm PPW

Chapter 282

“I love you,” he says against my skin. “And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize for any of this.”

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I slip away before the emotion can thicken any further. Grab my bag, tuck the Love Avenue file inside, and head for the exit.

Outside, the black car purrs closer, passenger window sliding down.

Cupid is behind the wheel. Desmond sits shotgun, same quiet intensity as always, but the harshness I remember from our last conversation is gone.

He gives me a single nod through the glass. Acknowledgment. Not warmth, but not hostility either.

I open the back door, slide in, tuck my hair behind my ear out of habit.

Cupid twists immediately, leans over the console, and kisses me lightly, brief, but grounding.

“You’re here,” I breathe against his mouth.

“Got you something. Figured you’d be starving.”

He passes back a paper bag, still warm and a tall insulated cup. The smell of fresh jollof rice and fried plantain hits me like a hug.

My eyes widen; I take both gratefully, set the file on the seat beside me, and start eating while I flip open the folder.

The still image is grainy, four years old, timestamp burned into the corner but clear enough.

Ares stands alone across from the old store Eshan mentioned, shoulders hunched against the night chill, hands in his pockets. He’s looking toward the camera like he doesn’t know it’s there.

But behind him, half in shadow, half in the sodium glow of a streetlamp, someone is approaching.

Not Feroz.

Not one of the usual Mooncrest enforcers.

Kim.

Kim Krates.

Head tilted, hands loose at his sides, walking straight toward Ares like a man who knows he’s expected.

My fork freezes halfway to my mouth.

The rice suddenly tastes like ash.

Kim Krates? What exactly is between him and Ares?