In expected Invited

Claire drove back to her house after a long and frustrating day, her mind swirling with exhaustion and irritation. As she pulled into the driveway, her eyes narrowed in confusion at the sight of two police cars parked outside. Standing at the doorstep, she saw her mother in what appeared to be an animated conversation with two police officers. 

Without wasting a second, Claire quickly turned off the ignition, grabbed her bag, and stepped out of the car. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement as she hurried to the front door, her heart pounding in her chest. 

"May I know what is going on here?" Claire asked, her voice firm but laced with confusion as her gaze flicked between the officers and her mother. 

One of the officers, a tall man with a stern face, stepped forward. "Ma'am, we're here to inform you that you've been invited to the police station for questioning concerning Mr. Jeff's death."

Claire's brow furrowed in disbelief. "What?" she blurted out, her voice rising slightly. "What does that have to do with me? I don't even know anything about his death!" 

The officer remained composed. "Your name was brought up as a suspect, ma'am," he replied matter-of-factly.

Claire's shock turned into anger. "Who would dare accuse me of something so absurd?" she demanded, her tone sharp.

"When you get to the station, you'll be informed, ma'am," the officer replied calmly.

Claire's lips pressed into a thin line as her anger simmered just beneath the surface. "I have a right to know now," she insisted, her voice growing louder. "Who accused me?"

The officer exchanged a glance with his partner before replying. "Miss Chantel Browson," he said simply. 

The name hit Claire like a bolt of lightning. Her fists clenched at her sides, and her jaw tightened as her mind raced. *Chantel. Of course, it's her. The audacity.* She seethed silently but refused to let her anger show too much in front of the officers. 

"Chantel Browson..." Claire said through gritted teeth. "She's going to regret this," she muttered under her breath.

"I have nothing to do with Jeff's death," Claire said firmly, addressing the officer. "This is absolutely ridiculous."

"You can explain everything at the station, ma'am," the officer responded professionally.

Claire sighed heavily, knowing she had no choice. "Fine. I'll come with you to answer your questions," she said, but before she could move, her mother interjected.

"What? No! You can't go with them, Claire!" her mother exclaimed, panic evident in her voice. "Tell them you didn't do it!"

Claire turned to her mother, her expression softening slightly. "Don't worry, Mum. I'll handle this. Just call my lawyer and tell him to meet me at the station."

"I'm coming with you," her mother declared, her voice trembling slightly. 

Claire nodded. "Alright, but stay calm, Mum. Everything will be fine," she reassured her as they both followed the officers to their car.

---

Meanwhile, at Chantel's house, she sat in the living room with the nanny, who was keeping an eye on the children. Chantel's phone buzzed on the coffee table, and she quickly grabbed it. Glancing at the screen, she saw the caller ID: the inspector. 

"Nanny, take the kids upstairs, please," Chantel said, her tone brisk but calm. The nanny nodded, scooping up the children and ushering them out of the room. Once they were gone, Chantel answered the call.

"Yes, Inspector?" she said, her voice steady but laced with anticipation.

"Miss Claire Browson and Mr. Andrew Smith have been invited to the station for questioning," the inspector informed her.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at Chantel's lips. "Good. Any updates?" she asked.

"Not yet, ma'am. We'll keep you informed," he replied.

"Thank you, Inspector," Chantel said before ending the call. Just as she placed her phone down, Henry walked into the room, his expression curious.

"Who was that?" Henry asked.

"The inspector," Chantel replied casually.

"And what did he say?" he pressed.

"He called to inform me that Claire and Andrew have been summoned to the station for questioning," Chantel said, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

Henry frowned, his expression darkening. "You shouldn't have named them as suspects, Chantel."

Chantel's eyes narrowed as she turned to face him fully. "And whose name should I have given, Henry?" she shot back. 

"No one," Henry replied firmly. "You should have told the inspector you didn't know anything about Jeff's death—at least not until we had solid proof."

"But we do have proof, Henry!" Chantel argued. "We have their recorded conversations. That's more than enough to show they're not innocent!"

Henry shook his head. "That proof is enough to win the custody battle, not to accuse them of murder. Chantel, this is serious. Let the police handle Jeff's death. It's not your fight."

Chantel crossed her arms, her frustration mounting. "Are you saying I'm overreacting?"

Henry stepped closer, taking her hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. I know you're doing all of this for the kids, and I love you for it. But you have to let this go. Focus on what matters—getting the kids away from Claire and Andrew. Don't let Jeff's case distract you."

Chantel sighed heavily, her resolve wavering as she leaned into Henry's comforting embrace. 

---

At the police station, Claire and her mother were escorted inside, where they were directed to the inspector's office. To Claire's surprise, Andrew was already there, sitting stiffly in a chair. When he saw her, he stood up immediately.

"Claire," he said, his tone low and tense.

Claire didn't waste time on pleasantries. "I heard Chantel took our names," she said coldly.

Andrew nodded, his jaw clenched. "Yes, she did. And she'll pay for this," he replied, his voice filled with quiet rage.

Claire shot him a glare. "It's easy for her to name us because *you* got us into this mess. You couldn't keep things under control, and now we're both being dragged into this nightmare."

"Lower your voice," Andrew hissed, glancing around the room.

"It's already low enough," Claire snapped. Before Andrew could respond, the door opened, and in walked Sharon, Andrew's mistress, alongside his lawyer. Claire's mood darkened instantly.

"Your mistress never ceases to amaze me," Claire muttered, her words dripping with sarcasm as she shot Sharon a scathing look. Sharon glared back but said nothing, following Andrew as he moved to speak with his lawyer.

Claire turned to her mother, who had just finished speaking with their family lawyer over the phone. "Mum, have you spoken to him?" Claire asked.

"Yes," her mother replied. "He's on his way."

Her mother hesitated, then added softly, "Claire, tell me the truth. Do you have anything to do with Jeff's death?"

Claire's eyes widened in disbelief. "Mum! How could you even think that?"

"I'm sorry, darling," her mother said gently. "But lately, you've been taking some strange steps—steps I don't understand."

Claire sighed, her frustration evident. "Mum, I have nothing to do with this. Trust me."

Her mother glanced toward Andrew, who was speaking animatedly with his lawyer. "Do you suspect Andrew?" she asked.

Claire's gaze followed her mother's, her expression unreadable. "I don't know, Mum. Andrew and I went our separate ways a long time ago. What he does now is none of my business."

But even as she said the words, Claire's mind churned. She *knew* Andrew was behind Jeff's death—she had her suspicions for weeks now. But instead of revealing her thoughts, she decided to keep quiet. She would hold this information as leverage, using it against Andrew when the time was right.

---

Later, both Claire and Andrew were questioned separately. The inspector began with Andrew.

"Mr. Andrew Smith, can you explain your relationship with Miss Chantel Browson and why she would name you as a suspect in Jeff's death?" the inspector asked.

Andrew leaned back in his chair, his expression calm. "Chantel used to work for me as a maid. She seduced me, got pregnant, and ran off with my kids. Now she's trying to have another man—Henry—father my children, and I won't allow that. She's doing this out of spite, to get back at me."

The inspector listened silently, taking notes before calling in Claire.

"Miss Claire Browson, why do you think Chantel would accuse you of involvement in Jeff's death?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Claire said, her tone steady. "But I suspect it's because of my ex-husband's children. Chantel wants another man to father those kids, and Andrew can't handle that. Frankly, this is all a ploy to drag me into their mess."

After both interrogations, the inspector made the decision to detain both Claire and Andrew while investigations continued. However, their lawyers quickly intervened, securing their release on bail. Both Claire and Andrew left the station, more determined than ever to bring Chantel down—and each silently plotting their next move.