The Fake Heiress and Her Purrfect Partner novel Chapter 85

**TITLE: Dreams Rise Again by Braxton 85**

**Chapter 85**

In a moment of pure exasperation, Nina flung a hefty stack of files right at Alex, the papers smacking against his face with a sharp sting that flushed his cheeks a deep crimson.

The freshly printed A4 sheets felt like tiny daggers as they landed, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

“Nina!” Alex bellowed, his voice laced with fury as he instinctively clutched his face, the sting still radiating across his skin. “Did everything I ever taught you about basic manners just fly out the window?”

“Oh, my bad! I’m just so utterly drained from all this detective work,” Nina replied, her tone laced with feigned innocence as she covered her mouth in mock surprise. “My hands are practically shaking. I guess I just couldn’t grip them tightly enough,” she added, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You know how it goes, Professor Summer. I’ve always been a bit fragile—my hands just have a mind of their own!” she continued, putting on her best doe-eyed expression, as if she were a lost puppy.

Alex stood there, momentarily speechless, feeling as though he had just struck a pillow instead of a person. “You—” he stammered, utterly at a loss for a comeback.

“Tsk, tsk, your face is all red now,” Nina teased, a smirk dancing on her lips. “Want me to dab a little medicated oil on it for you?”

With a flourish, she produced a bottle of vibrant green medicated oil, holding it up as if it were a prized possession, her eyes glinting with mischief as she pretended to smear it on his face.

“Stay back!” Alex yelled, stumbling backward and inadvertently knocking over a chair, his heart racing as the bottle hovered perilously close to his eyes. “That’s medicated oil!”

Simon, ever the voice of reason, slapped down the special task force authorization papers in front of Alex with a decisive thud. “Professor Summer, take a breath. Nina’s just a bit flustered because she actually cares about this case,” he said, his tone light but firm.

He paused for effect, a sly grin creeping onto his face. “Just like how you cared a little too much and ended up arresting the wrong guy.”

“I arrested the wrong guy? Are you actually serious?” Alex shot back, disbelief dripping from his voice as he scanned the documents Nina had tossed at him, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface.

As he flipped through the pages, his expression darkened with each turn, until he finally landed on a glaring official permit stamped with a bold red seal.

In unmistakable letters, it read: [Grave Robbery Murder Investigation-Special Task Force, Lead, Simon Reed.]

There was no denying it—this was the hard evidence laid bare before him.

“You? The head of the special task force?” Alex’s voice rose an octave, incredulity etched across his features.

His fingers tightened around the edge of the document, turning his knuckles white with tension.

He shot Simon a look of sheer disbelief. “You? Just a beat cop on loan? They put you in charge of this?”

If Nina had possessed a tail, it would have been wagging with unrestrained glee, her eyes sparkling with delight.

She tilted her head, her expression playful. “Oh, Professor Summer, is this too complicated for you to comprehend? Should I read it out loud for you?”

As she spoke, Nina tapped her fingertip twice on Simon’s name stamped prominently on the document. “Look right here—task force leader.”

“My big brother, Simon,” she declared, making sure to emphasize every syllable with a teasing lilt.

Alex felt his chest tighten, battling the urge to explode.

Just then, the door to the interrogation room swung open with a loud creak. Simon gestured pointedly toward the exit, his expression all business. “Professor Summer, it’s time for you to step out.”

With a smirk that could cut glass, he added, “You’re no longer qualified for this case. Hands off.”

“Why don’t you go home and get some rest? All that running around today—what a waste of energy, huh?” Simon’s words dripped with sarcasm, slicing through the tension in the room.

For a heartbeat, silence enveloped them, thick and heavy.

Alex sprang to his feet, the chair screeching across the floor in protest as he did.

His gaze locked onto Simon’s, fury simmering just below the surface, and he stormed out of the room, each step echoing with a force that seemed to shake the very ground beneath him.

But just as he reached the door, Nina stepped forward, positioning herself squarely in his path, effectively blocking his escape.

“Professor Summer, you threw a barrage of insults at Ian when you had nothing solid to back it up. Shouldn’t you apologize to him right here, right now?” Nina challenged, her voice sharp with defiance.

“That was way out of line for any interrogation,” she added, her glare unwavering as she met his eyes, unyielding and fierce.

Alex crossed his arms, scoffing, his demeanor icy. “Me? Apologize? Not a chance. That’s called interrogation tactics—deal with it.”

Nina shot back, her tone cutting. “Interrogation tactics? Is that what you call crossing the line?”

She flashed him a big thumbs-up. “We saw your rehearsal video at Andrew and Paul’s place—even we total dance noobs thought it was fantastic!

“You’ve got what it takes to blow everyone away at the World Dance Championship!”

Ian accepted the tissue and steam eye mask, his eyes still rimmed with tears as he looked up at Simon and Nina, feeling a swell of gratitude.

First, his grandpa had been murdered, and then he had been grilled like a criminal, Alex putting him through the wringer at every turn.

But faced with the genuine care and encouragement from the siblings, all his walls crumbled—these two felt like angels sent to save him, and the tears he had been holding back finally spilled over.

Simon gently pulled Ian to his feet, his voice soft and reassuring. “Come on, let’s get you home. Get some rest—your grandpa’s watching over you, you know.”

Ian bowed deeply to both of them, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, both of you. I really mean it. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Wiping away his tears, Ian hurried out of the interrogation room, feeling a flicker of hope ignite within him.

The interrogation room was dimly lit, and Nina let out a big yawn, the fatigue finally catching up with her.

Simon’s eyes softened with concern as he glanced at the clock—it was already 2:30 a.m.

Since Simon was only temporarily assigned here, he hadn’t settled down and crashed in the department dorms—all guys, so it didn’t really work for Nina to stay over.

He gently ruffled Nina’s hair with his large hand, his tone tender. “Nina, you should head home and get some rest. I’ll give you a ride.”

Simon still had case reports and evidence to organize, and the Jelasburg Police Department Headquarters was a good seven miles from Forest Isle Zoo.

Nina couldn’t bear to make her brother run around just for her, so she was about to say she didn’t mind roughing it for a night—just bunking down on a lounge chair in the police station’s break room.

Just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her from her thoughts.

‘Who’s calling at this ungodly hour?’ Nina pondered, feeling a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

The caller ID lit up—Troublemaker Quentin.