Claimed By The Mafia Rogue King (Snow and Cupid) novel Chapter 289

Chapter 289

Snowflakes

I woke lazily to Cupid’s voice. Soft, urgent, his hand brushing my cheek.

“Snow? Snow?”

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The caress was gentle, but the moment my eyes focused on his face, sleep vanished like smoke. His expression was tight. Jaw set, green eyes shadowed with something close to fear.

My heart lurched.

I sat up fast, sheets pooling around my waist. Morning light slanted through the curtains; we’d fallen asleep early last night, him holding me, stroking my back until the tension bled away.

I’d let myself believe today would be better. That we’d finally caught a break.

But the look on his face said otherwise.

“What’s wrong?” My voice cracked.

He didn’t answer with words. He simply turned his head toward the television mounted on the wall.

The screen was already on.

Mirena Daylight’s face filled it. Poised, grave, the Daylight News logo glowing in the corner.

Cold dread snaked down my spine. Once Mirena aired something, every channel followed like wolves on a scent.

I tried to focus on her words, but anxiety drowned them out. My eyes locked on the scrolling headline instead.

OSSY J DEAD IN H.O.W.L. CUSTODY: SUSPECT DIES IN DARK ALLEY CASE.

“Ossy J… is dead?” The words came out numb, disbelieving.

My phone started ringing at the exact same moment.

I turned. Mr. Gerald’s name flashed on the screen.

I answered with shaking fingers.

“Come here, Snow. Fast.” His voice was low, urgent. “Now.”

I lowered the phone slowly. My arm felt heavy, useless.

Our only living lead… gone. Just like that.

“Snow?” Cupid’s voice cut through the haze.

“I should go.”

I pushed off the bed too fast. The room tilted. My knees buckled.

1/4

Chapter 289.

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Cupid was there in an instant, strong arms scooping me up, carrying me to the bathroom like I weighed nothing

The bath was quick. Mechanical. He washed me with careful hands, dried me, dressed me in the first clean clothes he found. My soft gray sweater, dark jeans. Every movement efficient, gentle, worried.

By the time we were out the door, he was already guiding me toward my car, keys in his hand. He took the wheel without asking. I didn’t protest.

He pulled out fast, two blocks to H.O.W.L., but the front of the building was already chaos.

Reporters swarmed the entrance like flies. Cameras flashed. Microphones thrust forward. A crowd had gathered, angry voices shouting about another suspect dead in custody, and I pause to watch.

Mr. Castle might not survive the scandal this time.

“Cupid, stop here,” I whispered urgently.

He parked a short distance away, just out of the media crush.

I hurried out. The moment I emerged, heads turned. Cameras swung. Voices rose.

“Snow!”

“Is it true another suspect died under H.O.W.L. watch?”

“Is the Dark Alley case cursed?”

Quince’s car screeched up beside me, tires biting asphalt. He jumped out, grabbed my elbow, and steered me through the throng toward the entrance while tossing his keys to a nearby guard.

“I just got the call from Mr. Gerald,” he muttered as we pushed inside. “I can’t believe this.”

“How did it happen?” I asked, voice thin.

The elevator ride felt eternal.

When the doors opened on our floor, the hallway already felt wrong, too cold, too still, like something had sucked the air out. Quince hurried toward the Echo 8 office; I followed on numb legs.

Everyone was there except Sera. Eshan sat slumped in his chair, staring at the floor like it had personally betrayed him.

Vast stood behind him, arms crossed. Wrinks leaned against the wall, eyes wide. Mr. Gerald paced. Zayah watched from the corner, arms folded, expression unreadable.

Sera hadn’t arrived yet.

I didn’t sit. I walked straight past them, out the door, down the hall, toward the interrogation room.

No guards. No tape. Just an empty room.

No blood. No sign of struggle. But the energy… gods, the energy lingered. Cold. Wrong. Like something had been ripped out of the space and left a hole behind.

I backed out slowly, goosebumps rising on my arms.

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Chapter 289

Back in the office, Wrinks was already talking, voice low, unsteady.

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“We were going through files when we heard a thump from the interrogation room. By the time we got there… he was on the floor. Dead. No pulse. Nothing.”

Mr. Gerald frowned.

“Have you checked the CCTV?”

Wrinks shot him a sharp look.

“What are you insinuating? That Eshan killed Ossy J to cover something up?”

The room went dead silent.

Everyone turned to Wrinks.

She flushed.

“I’m just saying… it won’t hurt to look.”

Quince was already at the terminal, pulling up the footage..

We crowded around.

Eshan and Wrinks were in the office clearly visible, then a sudden glitch. Static. A jump. Then they were rushing out toward the interrogation room.

I frowned.

“Wind it back.”

Quince obeyed.

Again the glitch. A clean slice. Minutes missing. Goosebumps crawled up my spine.

“The footage has been tampered with,” Quince announced grimly. He reached for the memory card. “We should try to recover the deleted segment.”

“That’ll take weeks,” Mr. Gerald muttered. “Maybe a month. We’ll be forced to drop the case by then.”

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