I sat at my desk, writing my daily report for the chief, the tip of my pen gliding smoothly across the paper.
The office was silent, save for the ticking of the wall clock and the faint hum of the city outside.
Then, the door creaked open.
I didn't need to look up to know who it was.
The stench of arrogance entered before he did.
"Yo, Abigail's lapdog, it's been a while."
Joshua's voice oozed mockery, his usual smug grin plastered on his overly pampered face.
He sauntered inside like he owned the place, dropping into the chair across from me without permission.
Arrogance. Overconfidence. Weakness.
I set my pen down, exhaling through my nose as I finally looked at him.
"Mr. Lavere," I greeted, my tone colder than steel. "Anything I can assist you with?"
Joshua leaned back, crossing his legs, the smirk never leaving his lips.
"I'm working on a film where I play a police officer. To understand the role, Abi said you'd assist me."
I leaned back slightly, resting my chin against my fingers.
Ah. So this is her doing.
She sent him here on purpose, probably expecting me to be humiliated, forced to cater to him.
Amusing.
I kept my face expressionless, my tone completely formal.
"Mr. Lavere, how much are you offering for my services?"
His smirk widened. "I'll pay more than you could ever dream of."
His words were meant to mock me, to remind me that he had Abigail's money behind him.
I chuckled, standing up slowly.
Joshua tensed as I approached, his once-smug expression faltering.
Without Abigail's presence, his confidence was paper-thin.
I stopped just inches from his chair, towering over him, my emerald eyes locking onto his with predatory amusement.
"Mr. Lavere," I said smoothly, "I took down an entire underground fight club, dismantled the Phantom Syndicate, and exposed the Mason Mansion human trafficking ring—feats no one else in this country has accomplished."
I leaned down slightly, letting my words sink in.
"If you think you can afford me, my price is 100 million."
Joshua's eyes widened in disbelief. "100 million?! Are you insane?!"
I smiled. "No. Just expensive."
His face twisted in anger, but before he could speak, I continued.
"Oh, and before you threaten me, let me remind you… last night, I took down one of the most dangerous assassins in the world."
I tapped my temple lightly, smirking.
"Put a bullet right through his right eye. And just to be safe, I shot the left one too."
Joshua visibly gulped, his previous arrogance melting into fear.
His hands clenched into fists, but his legs were shaking.
"A-Are you even human?" he stammered, his voice laced with panic.
I chuckled, a slow, dark laugh as I stepped back, adjusting the cuffs of my suit.
"Ms. Bardot killed the human inside me long ago."
I met his eyes one last time, my voice dropping to a whisper.
"What you see now… call it a monster, a demon, or something else entirely. But one thing is certain, Joshua—"
I leaned in, my smirk widening.
"You should be very, very afraid."
Joshua bolted from the chair, practically stumbling in his rush to leave.
As the door slammed behind him, I sighed, rolling my shoulders.
Pathetic.
I sat back down, picking up my pen once more.
The only thing more predictable than Joshua's cowardice—was Abigail's desperation.
As I stepped outside the Detective Agency, a mob of teenagers stood in front of the building, their faces full of rage, blind devotion, and stupidity.
They were Joshua's fans.
Of course.
This was one of his old tricks—the same pathetic stunt he pulled in the past to humiliate Samuel.
In the past, Samuel took the abuse silently.
But I wasn't that Samuel.
And tonight, they were about to learn why.
The moment I walked out, one of them hurled an egg at me—but I saw it coming from a mile away.
I tilted my head, letting it whizz past me before it splattered onto the ground.
Then—
BANG!
I fired a shot into the air.
The crowd froze.
Some gasped. Others? Pissed themselves.
I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders as I lowered my gun.
Then, in a voice as sharp as a blade, I asked:
"What is this all about?"
The fear in their eyes was delicious, but one idiot—who was clearly too brainwashed to think properly—stepped forward, waving his phone at me.
"You humiliated Joshua! You beat him up! Look at this photo!"
He shoved his phone in my face, displaying a poorly edited image of Joshua with fake bruises and cuts.
I stared at it for exactly three seconds before smirking.
"This? This is your proof?" I asked, my voice mocking.
I took a step forward. They took a step back.
I shot two more rounds into the air.
BANG! BANG!
Some of them screamed. Good.
"Listen carefully," I said coldly. "You accuse me of assault. You claim I beat Joshua. Do you have forensic evidence? A medical report? A police statement?"
Their silence was all the answer I needed.
I let out a low chuckle. "No? Then let me tell you what's about to happen."
I took another step toward them, my eyes gleaming with predatory amusement.
"First, throwing eggs at a private investigator falls under harassment. Second, making false accusations against an investigator is obstruction of justice. Third—if you're taking the law into your own hands, I can have you all arrested. Right now."
Their faces paled.
Some of them tried to turn and run, but before they could—
A police siren wailed.
Perfect timing.
A squad car pulled up, and an inspector stepped out, his eyes narrowing at the scene.
"What's going on here?" he demanded.
I turned to him, keeping my tone calm but authoritative.
"Inspector, I want forensic evidence to prove these accusations. If I'm guilty, I'll go to jail immediately."
The teenagers perked up, thinking they had won.
But then—
"However."
I looked at them, my expression turning deadly.
"If the accusations turn out to be false, I want all of them arrested for defamation and harassment."
The inspector studied me for a moment, then nodded. "That's fair."
The teenagers panicked.
"W-Wait! You can't do that!"
I smirked. "Oh, I can. And I will."
Some of them collapsed to their knees, begging me not to press charges.
I clicked my tongue. "Didn't think this through, did you?"
One of the smarter ones finally broke.
"It—it was all Joshua's idea!" he stammered. "He told us to do it! He said it would humiliate you!"
The inspector's eyes darkened. "So he incited harassment? That's another charge."
I chuckled, putting my gun back into its holster.
"Looks like your idol isn't as great as you thought, huh?"
The crowd shrank in terror, realizing they had just played themselves.
I turned to the inspector.
"Take them in for questioning."
The teenagers wailed as they were escorted to the squad car, pleading for mercy.
I watched them go, my smirk never fading.
Then, I whispered to myself.
"Your move, Joshua."