The Albanian: A Dark Mafia Romance by Ava Bellini

Author:Ava Bellini [Bellini, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-13T16:00:00+00:00

11

The Partner

“Hands above your head!”

My hands were already above my head, was this guy fucking blind?

I complied and stayed where I was, waiting for the officer to leave his car and approach me. There was no way in hell James was able to leave Poppy’s and catch me only ten or twelve miles down the road. It was nearly midnight on a Wednesday, and I’d obeyed the speed limit, so what the hell was this?

“Zander Polat, you’re under arrest. I’ll read you your Miranda rights in a moment and your vehicle will be impounded, do you have any questions?” the officer shouted as he approached me and pinned my hands behind my back.

“Yes, you can tell me what the fuck is going on,” I snarled.

“Might wanna lighten up the attitude or I’ll consider that tone resisting arrest,” the cop snickered.

Suddenly it all clicked. This was no routine pull-over, this was no blinker light being out, this was a setup. Just like my father’s.

“Who’s paying you,” I ventured to ask as the officer led me to the patrol car. The siren and lights lit up the dark branches of the trees lining the highway. The cop pushing me step by step clearly wasn’t interested in taking the bait. I’d have to entice him.

“You know I can pay you double, right? Whatever amount my enemy is paying you, I’ll double it and consider this a simple mistake. No grudges. No retaliations… and hey if you’re interested in retiring from the force and joining—”

“No thanks,” he answered by cutting me off as I slid me into the backseat.

“Sure thing, bud, but I promise this won’t end well for you,” I growled as the door slammed in my face. Silence fell into the space between the cop and myself as we rode to the local precinct.

As soon as I was plopped down into an interrogation room I clamped my mouth shut. Two old decrepit looking cops came in to ask me basic questions, all left unanswered, and this went on for hours until my attorney finally got in touch. It was far too late in the evening for anything to be filed so I’d just have to wait in the precinct cell.

And then wait in the courthouse.

And then wait some more in my assigned cell at the compound jailhouse.

The days continued to drag on after my arraignment where I was not awarded bail and my attorney was still no closer to figuring out how all of this could be happening. I was being framed just like my father with a crime I hadn’t committed. When the FBI searched the club weeks ago they found nothing— at the time— so how is it they could book me for evidence found after the fact?

None of it made any sense and the idea of my crew flailing in the wind without me was almost too much to bear. Not to mention the little headway I’d made on Pop’s case was now cold so it was possible the Polat crew could be taken over by Bato.

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