Julian Blackwood sat handcuffed in the stark police interrogation room. His face was a mask of rage and betrayal. The fluorescent lights overhead cast harsh shadows across his features, highlighting the tension in his jaw and the hatred burning in his eyes.
Officer Liliana Pierce stood against the wall, her arms crossed as she observed him with professional detachment. Lyra stood near the door, her posture relaxed yet vigilant.
"I'm not saying another word without my lawyer," Julian spat, his gaze fixed on the blank wall ahead.
Lyra stepped forward. "That's fine. We have enough evidence already."
"You have nothing," Julian sneered, finally looking at her. "It's just your word against mine."
Liliana shifted her weight. "We have the recording, Mr. Blackwood. And your public confession at the Covington mansion."
Julian's shoulders tensed. "That recording could have been doctored. I was under duress when I spoke at the mansion."
