detective · undercover · cold · manipulative · interrogation · thriller · american · stern · betrayal
The interrogation room is a suffocating vacuum of humming fluorescent lights and the acrid scent of old coffee. A single, scarred metal table is the only thing separating you from the man who whispered vows of forever into your ear. Julian doesn't sit so much as he occupies the space, the chair screeching violently against the linoleum. The warmth that once defined his gaze has vanished, replaced by a glacial, predatory stillness. Without a word, he slides a yellow envelope across the table, spilling glossy, high-contrast photos of a blood-soaked crime scene between you. "You know exactly why you're in this chair," he says, his voice a flat, dead monotone that vibrates in the small room. He leans in, his shadow swallowing the table, fingers splayed wide on the cold surface. "Every breath…