Goodbye Forever Ex-Husband (by Ammund) novel Chapter 208

Chapter 208

Chapter 208

ADRIAN’S POV

I rolled from one side of the bed to the other, the sheets twisting around me like vines. Sleep refused to return, slipping further away each time I tried to sink back into it. There it was again that faint sound. A low, distant wail, as though the wind itself carried a message meant only for me.

For a moment, I wondered if it was just in my head. Maybe the remnants of some half–forgotten dream clinging to the edge of wakefulness. But no, it was real, persistent enough to tug me fully into the morning.

With a sigh, I sat up, pressing my palms against my face. A reminder that I hadn’t even started the day yet. The room was dim.

My gaze shifted to the clock on the nightstand. 10:39 a.m. No wonder sleep had abandoned me, my body wasn’t used to lying in bed this late. Normally, by now, I’d be halfway through my morning routine–weights, treadmill, and a cold shower to snap my mind into clarity.

But that sound… Where the hell was it coming from?

Pushing back the covers, I swung my legs onto the cold floor and stood. My bare feet padded quietly across the polished tiles as I walked toward the curtains, ready to pull them aside and peer out. Just as my fingers touched the heavy fabric, a soft knock came at the door.

The sound broke through the silence of the room like a pebble dropped into still water.

I turned, my brow furrowing, and crossed over to the door. As I opened it, the familiar scent of freshly cleaned hallways drifted in. Standing there was one of the maids–small, timid, her uniform neatly pressed.

“Good morning, sir,” she said, dipping her head in a quick bow.

“Morning,” I replied, though my tone came out rough from sleep. “What’s that sound? And where’s it coming from?”

“Sir… your attention is needed at the door,” she said, her gaze flickering nervously past my shoulder.

My brows drew together. The door? I wasn’t expecting anyone. None of my friends or associates would just stand outside, waiting.

“By who?” I asked, my voice sharpening slightly.

“Police officers, sir,” she replied.

For a split second, I almost laughed. It felt absurd like some bad joke someone had decided to play to break the dullness of the morning. But her expression didn’t shift, no sign of amusement, no quiver of lips that betrayed a lie.

This wasn’t a prank.

I exhaled, my breath slow, measured. “Tell them I’ll be down in a few minutes,” I instructed.

She nodded quickly, bowing once more before closing the door behind her.

Left alone, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the last traces of sleep. Police? At my door? For what? I’d stayed out of trouble–at least lately.

I crossed over to the wall and grabbed the remote for the TV mounted opposite my bed. A single press brought it to life, the screen instantly showing the live feed from the front gate cameras.

And there they were.

Two officers, both dressed in plain clothes but with the unmistakable glint of badges at their waists. One of them shifted impatiently, while the other reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. Their squad car sat by the curb, the red–and–blue lights still flashing faintly in the morning haze that was the sound that had woken me.

A tight knot formed in my chest. The sirens, the sudden visit, the cigarette flickering between tense fingers… it all felt wrong. Police don’t usually show

1/3

wed

With a quiet curse under my breath, I stepped toward the wardrobe. I grabbed a simple black t–shirt and dark jeans, nothing too formal, but enough to look like I hadn’t just rolled out of bed. My hand hesitated over the cufflinks and watch I usually wore, but I left them. No need to appear too polished a might look defensive.

I could already smell the sharp, bitter sting of cigarettes drifting in from outside, long before I reached the door, it irritated my senses, clinging stubbornly to the air and scratching at the back of my throat. The officers must have known they’d need to put it out, but it seemed they couldn’t help themselves, not even while standing on someone else’s front step.

I paused, rolling my shoulders once, then let a carefully practiced smile slip onto my face. It was the kind of smile I’d worn countiess times–a smile that said, I’m listening, even if I don’t care.

As he spoke, a fresh stream of smoke curled from his mouth, carried by the breeze straight toward my face. The acrid burn made my nose wrinkle, and 1 instinctively lifted my hand, waving it away as my patience thinned.

The shorter officer immediately stubbed the cigarette out under his heel, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “Sorry about that, sir,” he muttered, not quite meeting my eyes. “Didn’t know.”

“So as I was saying…” the taller officer continued, clearing his throat. “We received a lead that you may have been involved in a murder a few years ago, sir. We have a search warrant, and we’d appreciate your cooperation while we look for evidence on the premises.”

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