Accused

I sat on a park bench, watching the toes of my black pumps slowly disappear into the sand. Every now and then, I caught a few disapproving looks from mothers pushing a stroller or hauling around an oversized diaper bag. I could hardly blame them. A twenty-six-year-old woman in a tailored pantsuit wasn’t exactly a common sight at a playground, especially not with two seven-year-old girls in tow. I’d picked up my niece Mia and her friend Shanaya straight after work. The girls had been begging to spend the afternoon together, and I’d been more than happy to oblige.

Shanaya was an absolutely adorable little girl, with shiny black curls, dark skin, and equally dark, round eyes. Mia was just as pretty. Looking at her was a little like looking at a miniature version of my sister. Or me, for that matter. The Italian side of our family was pretty obvious in all of us, with our slightly darker complexions, wavy dark brown hair, and hazel eyes. For the first time since Mia was born, my sister and her husband had gone on vacation without her. Which meant I was on aunt duty for the week. I loved the little girl dearly and was happy to do it, despite my sister’s concerns about me working full-time. But for Mia, I was more than willing to take a few afternoons off that week. I watched them chase each other across the playground and smiled.

My phone started ringing, pulling me out of my thoughts. My sister. “Yes, my beloved sister, your daughter is alive. She’s eaten, she’s happy, and I haven’t lost her yet. Now go enjoy your vacation.” I grinned, already picturing my sister rolling her eyes. “Very funny. I know she’s in good hands. Actually, I was calling about Shanaya. Her mom asked if you could drop her off at her dad’s place when the girls are done playing. Could you do that? I’ll send you the address.” I agreed and wished them both a lovely evening.

By six, the girls had finally agreed it was time to leave, and we made our way to the address my sister had sent me. As we approached Hamburg’s infamous Reeperbahn, I checked the address on my phone for the third time. “Hey, doll! You lost?” someone called after me. I kept walking, pretending I hadn’t heard a word. At the entrance to the apartment building, I ran my finger along the names beside the building's doorbells. Ah, there it was. Ben Schmidt. I pressed the buzzer. Nothing. After two minutes, I tried again. “Bro, Max, what the fuck did I give you a key for?!” a man snapped through the speaker. A moment later, the front door buzzed open. Charming. I took a breath. Don’t start judging people, Siena. I forced a polite smile and pushed the door open. “Come on, you two.” With a little hand in each of mine, I led them upstairs.

The higher we climbed, the louder the bass became. Male voices rose above the music, followed by a burst of laughter. Probably one of the neighbors. “That’s Daddy’s apartment!” Shanaya announced cheerfully, pointing straight at the door the noise seemed to be coming from. Of course it is. I rang the bell again, and once again, nobody bothered to open the door. “Are you absolutely sure this is the right apartment?” I asked Shanaya, clinging to the ridiculous hope that she’d gotten the apartment wrong. At that exact moment, the door flew open.

A cloud of smoke and deafening music spilled into the hallway. “For fuck’s sake, how many times are you gonna ring that—” The man filling the doorway was enormous. Nearly two meters tall, dressed head to toe in black: sweatpants, hoodie, and a baseball cap pulled so low I could barely see his face. When he realized I wasn’t whoever he’d been expecting, he lifted his head slightly to peer out from beneath the brim. He looked me up and down, raising an eyebrow, before his gaze fell on the two girls. "Daddy!" Shanaya squealed happily, launching herself at him and wrapping both arms around his leg. “Hey, princess,” he said, sounding surprised as he gently stroked her hair.

He gently moved her a step forward and pulled the apartment door shut behind him. As he did, an outrageously expensive-looking watch flashed beneath his sleeve, and a sweet smell drifted toward me. Marijuana. Ah, a petty criminal. I bit the inside of my cheek before I could let my expression give me away. I really did try not to judge people too quickly, but my job made it incredibly difficult sometimes. I’d been working for the public prosecutor’s office for a few months now, and by this point, I was convinced I could guess most people’s criminal records with a single glance. I was very young for the position, but I’d been lucky enough to start my legal traineeship straight after university, which meant I’d already passed my second state examination at twenty-five.

“Hello, I’m—” The apartment door was yanked open again before I could finish. Another man appeared beside us, almost as tall as the first but with brown hair. He looked me up and down before grunting, “Bro, are they seriously sending secretaries over noise complaints now?” I narrowed my eyes. "Excuse me?!" I glared at him. “Dude, Chris, get back inside, turn the music off, and tell everyone to get the fuck out, alright? Shanaya’s here,” the first man said. Chris finally looked at Shanaya. “Oh, hey, kiddo.” He gave her hair a quick ruffle. Then he disappeared into the apartment. A second later, his voice thundered through the door. “EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP!” The music cut off. Silence followed. Well. Effective, if nothing else.

I turned back to Shanaya’s father and tried introducing myself again. “Right. I’m Siena, and this is my niece, Mia.” I held out my hand. He glanced at my hand as if he wasn’t entirely sure what I expected him to do with it. Eventually, he shook it. Briefly. “Ben.” That was all. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised he wasn’t the handshaking type. “Shanaya’s mother asked me to bring her straight here,” I explained. “What? Today?!” He took off his cap and ran a hand through his blond curls, which immediately fell messily across his forehead. For a moment, he seemed completely lost. Without the cap hiding half his face, I could finally see what he looked like. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked exhausted, but I couldn’t help noticing how strikingly blue they were. Fine lines creased his forehead. Mid-thirties, I guessed.

“Daddy? What’s wrong?” Shanaya peered up at him. The excitement in her voice had disappeared. It probably wasn’t the first time he’d been caught off guard by one of her visits. Ben crouched in front of her and gently rested a hand on her arm. “Nothing, princess. You hungry? Wanna go get something to eat?” She shook her head. “Can’t we stay here? I’m tired.” He scratched the back of his head. “I gotta kick everyone out first.”

“Why? Who are all those people?”

“Besides, I don’t have any food left,” he said, avoiding her question.

“Mommy always has food.”

“Yeah, well, how about fries today? You like fries, right?”

“Hmm. Okay. Can I drive your car again?”

“We’re gonna have to take the bus today, princess.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t drive right now.”

“But why?”

Ben sighed. He was clearly overwhelmed by the situation. This isn’t your problem, Siena. Just leave. Then I glanced at Shanaya’s disappointed face. Oh, for God’s sake. “Actually,” I said, crouching beside her, “your dad promised he’d let me drive his car today.” Ben turned toward me, his eyebrows drawing together. “So how about the four of us go get dinner together?” Shanaya’s eyes immediately lit up, and a huge smile spread across her face. “Oh, yes!” Mia was just as excited, and within seconds, both girls were racing down the stairs. I straightened up, feeling rather pleased with myself. I had to admit, I was a little proud of myself for getting Ben out of that mess. At least until I realized I’d just landed myself in one. He gave me a puzzled look, as though he was still trying to figure out what had just happened. I simply shrugged. Before he could say anything, Shanaya called for us from downstairs. “Daddy! Come on!" I started down the stairs. A moment later, I heard him following me.

When we reached his car, I honestly thought he was joking. Apart from the fact that it was parked illegally, with half the car up on the sidewalk, I had expected just about anything. Anything except that. Standing in front of us was a deep-purple Mercedes-AMG GT 63 S, with black rims and tinted windows. I wasn’t particularly interested in cars, but even I recognized this one, because it was my brother-in-law’s absolute dream car. And I was about to drive it. I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. I held out my hand expectantly. Ben looked at my open palm, then at my face. With obvious reluctance, he dug into his pocket and handed me the keys. “Just don’t fucking wreck it, alright?” I helped the girls into the back and made sure they were safely strapped in before opening the driver’s door. When I noticed Ben still standing beside the car, I turned to him with a grin. “What? Don’t trust the secretary?” He climbed into the passenger seat. “Not particularly,” he muttered, leaning back.

I settled into the driver’s seat and took a moment to admire the car. The black leather interior was seriously impressive, and when I started the engine, the low growl from beneath the hood made my heart beat a little faster. Ben gave me directions as we drove through Hamburg, and I enjoyed driving far more than I’d ever imagined I would. I accelerated quickly whenever the road opened up, enjoying the powerful engine and the way the car responded to even the slightest touch of the pedal. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Ben watching me. The corner of his mouth twitched. He seemed to find it highly entertaining how much his Mercedes made my eyes light up.

“You always drive like that?” he asked.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re qualifying for Formula One.”

“I’m staying within the speed limit.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t.”

I glanced at him. He was still smirking. “Pull over here,” he said after a while. I looked out the window. “Haerlin? That’s a fine-dining restaurant,” I pointed out skeptically, but did as he said. He didn’t seem particularly interested in my objection. He was already getting out and helping the girls out of the car. By the time I’d stepped out, a man in a suit approached us. “Good evening, Mr. Schmidt.” Ben certainly didn’t look like a regular customer, but apparently, they knew him here. “Madam.” I assumed he meant me. “Good evening,” I replied politely. Ben took the car keys from my hand and passed them to the valet. I glanced down at myself critically and smoothed out my blouse. Thank God I hadn’t changed after work. Ben, who was still wearing his sweatpants and hoodie, didn’t seem to care in the slightest what he looked like. And judging by the way they greeted him, neither did the staff. By the time I looked up, he was already waiting by the entrance, waving impatiently at me. “You coming or what?”