Jude Patterson is accused of killing his wife by his father in law, Jonathan Hawthrone. A lawyer is interested in proving his innocence, but she has a hidden agenda. When Jude leaves prison, he has to work with his estranged daughter to take down a powerful man that had ruined their lives.
Chapter 1 The beginning
Jude Patterson knelt in a puddle of crimson, his hands trembling as they cradled the limp form of his wife, Abigail. Her once-radiant beauty was now marred by the pallor of death, her skin cold and lifeless against his own.
"No, no, no," he sobbed, his cries echoing through the dark alleyway. "Abigail, please... Please wake up. I can't do this without you. I can't..."
The dampness of her blood seeped through his trousers, but he couldn't feel it.
His chest heaved with each anguished breath as he rocked back and forth, unwilling to let go of his wife's lifeless body. He was consumed by a despair so deep that it threatened to drown him.
How had it come to this? Just hours ago, they had been laughing, blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the estate. And now... Now, he was alone, a widower before his time.
He couldn't bear to think about the future without her. The world had become a cold, desolate place, devoid of color or joy.
His mind raced, searching for answers to questions that haunted him like ghosts. Who would do this? Who could have taken his beloved wife from him so brutally?
He looked around the alley, his eyes wild and desperate. There was no one there, just the dripping of water from a nearby pipe and the faint sounds of the city beyond the estate walls.
His tears flowed freely, mingling with the blood that stained his hands and clothes. He held her tighter, as if his embrace could somehow bring her back, but the reality of his loss was inescapable.
The wailing of the sirens pierced the silence of the night, accompanied by the dancing blue and red lights that reflected off the walls of the alleyway. But the emergency vehicles arrived too late, their efforts futile in the face of her mortal wound.
The paramedics moved with swift efficiency, but Jude knew that their ministrations were nothing more than a formality, their stethoscopes and defibrillators useless against the gaping wound that had taken his wife's life.
As his voice cracked with grief, a gruff-looking police officer approached, notepad in hand, ready to interrogate the widower. But before a word could be uttered, the sound of angry footsteps echoed down the alleyway, and Jude turned to see Jonathan Hawthorne, Abigail's father, his face twisted with rage and grief.
"He killed her!" he shouted, his finger pointed accusingly at him. "He killed my daughter! You took her away from me, you monster!" His face was flushed, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Jude stood frozen in place, his mind spinning like a top. Jonathan's accusations were like daggers to his heart, but he was too numb to defend himself, the grief and shock of Abigail's death making it impossible to find the words.
As the paramedics took her lifeless body away, loading it into the ambulance with somber efficiency, he felt the police officer's handcuffs bite into his wrists. The cop didn't offer a word of explanation as he led him away, the night air biting at his skin as they walked to the waiting police car.
His mind was a jumble of chaos, every thought vying for attention as he was pushed into the backseat of the police car. His eyes remained fixated on the ambulance's taillights, which grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared into the night. The drive to the police station was a blur, the faces of the officers nothing more than a faceless mass of blue uniforms and grim expressions.
As the car screeched to a stop in front of the station, he was led inside, the clang of the cell door sounding like the closing of a coffin lid on his life.
He sat in the cold, hard chair in the interrogation room, a sight to behold. His once-clean clothes were now a crimson mess, the dark stains of his wife's blood seeping through the fabric. His hands were caked with the evidence of his tragedy, a reminder of the life he had lost and the accusations he faced. The weight of his grief was a leaden cloak on his shoulders, every breath a struggle. He sat in silence, unable to grasp the reality of the situation he found himself in.
The interrogating officer sat with the patience of a predator, his gaze unwavering as he awaited his response. But his mind was lost in the mists of time, his memories of Abigail flooding his mind like a torrent.
The words of the officer fell on deaf ears, muffled by the roar of his emotions. "Would you like your lawyer?" the man repeated, his voice insistent, but Jude could not hear him. He was lost in the memory of that first meeting, the way Abigail's laughter had filled his heart with light.
***
Abigail Hawthorne was a woman who left a lasting impression. Her beauty was effortless, as if she had simply been born perfect. Her hair cascaded in golden waves, dancing about her face in a carefree manner, adding to her aura of freedom and vitality.
But it was her eyes, a striking shade of green, that captured his heart. They sparkled with a mischievous gleam, filled with the untamed spirit of a wild animal. And when she smiled, her entire face lit up like a star-filled sky, making him feel as if he had stumbled upon a hidden treasure.
The city of love had lived up to its name when he first laid eyes on her. It was as if the universe had aligned, conspiring to bring the two souls together. His heart knew it, even before his mind had time to process the full impact of her presence.
He had never worked harder to win anyone's affection. He pulled out all the stops, from extravagant gifts to grand gestures of love. But the most potent weapon in his arsenal was his genuine adoration for her. He worshipped her as if she were a goddess, and she, in turn, seemed to thrive in his attention.
Other books by juliet michelle
More