I changed the chapter name by one letter lol

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Jail

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Chapter 10: Jail (Rhys's POV)

If it was a person waking me up at one in the morning instead of the incessant and provoking buzz of my cell phone, I would have shot them between the eyes already. 

Somebody's dying tonight. 

I exhaled a vexed breath and sat up, reaching for my phone and answering blindly but remained quiet. 

"Mr. Romanov," came a drunken giggle. 

I blinked a few times before releasing a breath and falling back, my head collapsing on my pillow. Dragging my hand down my face, I mumbled in realization, "Ms. Almonte." 

"I need you," she whined, sounding just as needy as she proclaimed to be. "Ow!" she exclaimed and I moved to sit upright, hearing shuffling in the background. 

"Am I speaking to Rhys Romanov?" asked a man, the voice completely unfamiliar. 

"I'm afraid you are, who is this?" I questioned, already out of bed and pacing forward to the two small round coffee tables and couch at the other end of my room, reaching for the shirt I tossed before going to bed. 

"This is officer Perkins speaking from the NYPD station down at Park Avenue, 17th Precinct. We have a Ms. Stella Almonte down here under arrest for disorderly conduct at The Dove. She listed you as her attorney and since the girl is..." he paused to clear his throat, "in no state to speak to officers, we had to call you." 

I paused for a moment, tucking my phone between my ear and shoulder as I straightened out my t-shirt. "Is there anyone else with her at the moment?" I asked. 

"No, she was brought in alone. I'd suggest you come down here as soon as you can, sir—" 

"Give me the phone!" a disorderly Stella screamed in the background. 

"She's very uncooperative," the office huffed in frustration. 

"Ten minutes," I said, "I'll be right there." 

Hanging up, I tossed my phone on the couch and pulled my shirt on, slipping my arms through the long sleeves and then picking it back up, tucking it into my joggers before moving back to my nightstand and swiping up my keys and wallet before I left, heading down the black marble staircase, my hand gliding over the banister until I reached downstairs and out the front door, getting in the elevator and leaving, going from the penthouse down to the lobby and from there, out to the parking lot. 

I unlocked my car and got in the seat, forgetting about the damn seatbelt as I released a puff of air and turned in my seat, backing out and then hitting the gas, heading straight to 17th Precinct. 

If Damien found out about Stella's little mishap tonight, she would have hell to face, and all the sense I talked into the man last night would fume out of his ears through his rage. I attempted my best to talk him into delaying the wedding only because he clearly didn't have enough information on Nico, Matteo, or this whole deal. 

As his attorney, it was my job to make sure he wasn't being trapped into some business deal because the man was as gullible as they came. By the end of our conversation last night, he asked me to look deeper into the D'Angelos, and that's what my entire day had gone into. 

And now, at one in the morning, here she was, the one and only Stella Almonte, ready to demolish my plans. 

With the chaos I heard in the background and from what the officer told me, it wouldn't be long before they called Damien, so I couldn't afford to waste a second. 

I parked the car in front of the station and locked it, running a hand through my hair as I pushed the doors open and walked into the station. The officer sitting at the front table looked up at me blankly, a donut in his hands. 

Typical. 

"Stella Almonte. Where is she?" 

He jabbed his thumb over his right shoulder and I made my way there, past the glass door and into the larger room that held two large cells and two desks on either end of the room. 

"Rhys Romanov?" the officer at the first desk asked. 

Ignoring him, my eyes cut to the cell in the corner of the room where Stella sat on the floor, her back against the wall and her legs splayed out, ankles crossed as she struggled to stay awake. Her eyes snapped open when she heard my name and she frantically searched the room until our gazes clashed together. 

In the other cell was a man, still holding an ice pack to his head and nose, switching between the two every once in a while. When I walked in, he was taken out by a different officer, somewhere out back.

I turned to the officer, making my way to his desk where I braced my hands, taking in a breath as my shoulders tensed and I dropped my head to keep my composure. "Let her out," I demanded. 

"Can't," he said, setting his coffee mug down, "she's under arrest." 

"Then let me in," I argued, "I need to speak to her." 

"Can't—" 

"She has the right to remain silent and the right to an attorney. I'm her attorney and she wants to see me so... Let. Me. In." I was more furious at her than the officer, even though he was being a prick. Despite that, Stella was the one causing trouble tonight. 

He watched me for a moment, his eyes narrowed, before sighing in defeat and moving to the cell, keys jingling on his belt. 

I strolled behind him until he opened the door and gestured for me to walk in, leaving us to go back to his desk. I stayed outside, folding my arms across my chest and watching as she rose to her feet and dusted her dress, tripping over to me and holding the bars, sticking her face in between as far as she could. 

"You came," she sang, staring at me with glazed eyes and flushed cheeks, giving away the effect alcohol had on her. 

I let my arms drop once I made it inside and stood before her. "You called," I mumbled. 

She stared up at me sheepishly before giggling and humming in dismissal and collapsing against me, dropping her forehead on my chest, fading in and out of consciousness. 

What the hell is she getting me into? 

By the time we made it out of the station, I lost a thousand dollars despite winning the argument against the officer, and successfully bailed an unconscious Stella out of jail. 

Stella was fast asleep after she got tired of waiting and she was very unhappy to be woken up when it was time for us to leave. It drained all the patience out of me just to guide her to my car but when I attempted to open the passenger door only for her to slam it shut with a grunt and throw my hands off of her, I was just about ready to snap. 

To steady herself, she leaned back against my car. "You shouldn't have bailed me out," she huffed, "I didn't do anything wrong. That sleaze was forcing himself on me." Frowning, she reached up to touch her neck, drawing my attention to the bruises developing on her neck, taking the shape of a chokehold while her knuckles were tainted with similar red bruises. 

Somebody is definitely dying tonight.

"Chris Parker?" I questioned, using the name the officer gave me and the man I saw leaving the station with his glare still focused on Stella. 

She groaned and nodded, flexing her fingers and wincing in pain. 

Taking in a slow breath, I kept my anger at bay. "Did he hurt you?" 

Her hazy, hooded eyes met mine and she cracked a giggle. "Don't worry, Mr. Romanov. I hurt him more. See." She showed me her knuckles like a trophy. After a while, she groaned, closing her eyes. "I really didn't want to call you, you know. But they weren't letting me bail myself out." 

"Hmm, because you're Damien Russo's daughter. The police will take any reason to bring your father down to the station himself," I sighed, bracing my hands on the car, caging her in. 

"Dad can't find out. Don't tell him," she warned, glaring at me half-heartedly, "I'm avoiding him, remember?" She took a deep breath as a cool breeze blew by, loose strands of her hair clinging to her face until she tucked them behind her ears. Shifting her weight from one foot to another, she met my gaze. "Thanks for showing up. I still think I should have called Logan though." 

I resisted an eye roll, my eyes raking over her from head to toe, taking in the forest green dress she wore, stopping about mid-thigh with a squared neck and full sleeves going to her wrists, every inch of the fabric hugging her skin tightly. The small gold hoops in her ears glimmered as her hair was pulled back into a sleek high ponytail. 

"Don't tell my father, I mean it, Mr. Romanov. I'm already dealing with enough from him," she huffed, shaking her head in annoyance. 

"What's wrong?" I questioned, "things aren't working out for you, Dorogaya?" The rage flickering in her eyes at my amusement only tugged at the smirk already dancing on my lips. 

"No," she snapped, her head dropping as she stared down at her heels. "I don't think I can talk my way out of this one," she whispered mostly to herself, sounding almost defeated. 

"This is new. Are you giving up?" I asked, something about the thought of that not sitting right with me. 

A small sniffle escaped her but she continued to avoid my gaze for a few more minutes until she took a shaky breath and composed herself once again, quickly wiping her cheek before meeting my eyes. 

"Of course not, Mr. Romanov. I will never give up. I just... I don't want to marry him," she mumbled, "but I guess that's not your problem now, is it? Care to drop me home?" She plastered on her usual smile, those dimples poking at me, but just half-heartedly. 

Clearly, the last thing she needed tonight was for me to be my usual arrogant, snarky self, so I made an exception, just this once, and kept my remarks to myself. 

"Or is that too much of a hassle for you?" she asked, glancing around. "I can get a cab." Pushing herself off the car, she lost her balance, the alcohol still overwhelming her senses as she reached out blindly and grabbed onto my shoulders, steadying herself. 

Instead of standing upright, however, an exhausted sigh escaped her and she dropped her forehead against my chest, once again collapsing in my arms as she took in shaky breaths. It seemed as though if I so much as uttered one wrong word, Stella would lose herself and break right in front of me... and I wasn't sure if I could watch that. 

I hated the impact she had on me but indifference was embedded in me. 

"Rhys—" 

I didn't let her finish that sentence, I couldn't stand it if she did. Dropping my hands to her waist, I pulled her away from the car and opened the door for her before unlatching her hands from me. "Get in the car, Stella. I'll take you home." 

Without sparing me a glance and uttering a word, she did and the entire drive back, instead of the witty and charmingly sarcastic remarks I was used to, I only got Stella's silence.

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Chapter 10

I delivered the double update I promised alr

next ch: favor

let's have that Logan and maybe even Zarah's cameo!!

Low key, as much as I LOVE Stella and Rhys, I think Logan and Zarah are my favorites in this series, I really didn't want to end their book. They're just superior fr.

I also say that at the end of every book for every couple tho lol so let's see what I think 40 chapters later