"So, what did you really want to talk about?" Elara asked, maintaining her distance from the man, her hands crossed on her chest, close enough to her pocket to reach and pull the trigger if things turned bad.
Sean’s father watched the girl, the way she stood, so confident, in stark contrast to what he had heard.
She was supposed to be Andrew’s wife, timid, like a useless country bumpkin that nobody liked, but from what he saw, it didn’t seem like the case.
To him, the girl had an aura, the kind of aura he didn’t feel emanating from many exemplary businesspeople.
The girl... She was full of charm and confidence, definitely not like soone who had suffered a day before.
"I heard what happened," Sean’s father said.
Elara nodded.
"I heard too." She stuck to short and precise replies.
The man took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to Antonio, who looked ready to pounce and hurt anyone, and licked his bottom lip.
"I am truly sorry for what you had to go through. I didn’t raise my son to act like that. It’s just... I don’t know what led to it. Maybe money and power got to him and..." Sean’s father started speaking, and Elara narrowed her eyes at him.
"With due respect, Mr. Turner, I hope you are not here to defend your son’s evil intentions towards . That would be really pathetic. I feel sorry for your loss. But not enough to stand here and hear that bullshit." Elara’s eyes turned sharp.
"Miss Elara!" The subordinate stepped forward when she outrightly insulted his boss like that, and Elara arched her brows.
She tilted her head and looked at him.
Antonio narrowed his eyes.
"What’s wrong with what she said? Your boss’s son kidnapped my madam, tortured her, and wanted to rape her, and here he is trying to explain how he didn’t raise him to be like that? Is this an apology or mockery?" Antonio asked.
The subordinate stepped back when Sean’s father dismissed him, a solemn smile appearing on his face.
"I am sorry, but that wasn’t my intention. You suffered a lot, and there’s nothing I can do to compensate you for the suffering. There’s sothing I am curious about. Who saved you?" Sean’s father asked him.
Elara felt her lips twitch at the question. She knew all of it before was just a facade, an environnt he was building up and hyping so that he could try to find who killed his son.
He didn’t give two damns about what she suffered or if she was in pain.
"I don’t know," she said.
"You don’t know? How is that possible? You told the police that Daniel Macros saved you and—"
"And I lost consciousness after that. I don’t know what happened after that. Antonio told I was rushed to the ergency room because I was bleeding too much. I am sure you have already confird it." Elara looked directly in his eyes, holding his gaze boldly, least afraid of the man.
"Sean ran away when he saw because he didn’t want to ss with Macros. He made a good choice in my opinion. Don’t you think so? What exactly are you here to inquire about?" Elara asked.
Sean’s father clenched his jaw.
The girl was too sharp, too calculative with her words, and too unyielding, and it didn’t settle well with him.
He knew this already, heard it from the officers, and checked it with the hospital. But this was the most recent incident.
Not to ntion how Sean’s assistant told him about that barking video and how he kept saying it was Elara’s doing.
"Okay. I’ll get straight to the point. Was it really you who forced him to shoot that barking video? Was it your doing? Because everything started from there," Sean’s father said.
Elara smiled, tilted her head, and then pulled out her handkerchief, alerting the n behind Sean’s father, who relaxed when they saw it was no weapon.
"If you really think I was behind it, you are making the sa mistake he did. If I were so capable and influential, why would I stay with Andrew even when I know he is involved with Beatrice?" Elara said before she pretended to wipe the corner of her eyes.
"True, I called him Beatrice’s lapdog because I saw them making out, and he would always side with her. But do you really think a country bumpkin like , who is fighting so diligently just for a role in drama, has that kind of power? If there’s anyone who would benefit most from his death, who do you think it would be?" Elara asked before checking her wristwatch.
She smiled and bowed to the man, telling him the ti was over and she already had prior arrangents.
After a quick nod to Antonio, she sat inside the car.
The bodyguard imdiately followed and started the car, leaving the man standing on the side of the highway.
Antonio looked at Elara through the rearview mirror with thinned lips.
Elara indeed suffered the most in the situation, but he didn’t know why; but for so reason, he felt like she knew sothing, or at least suspected sothing, that she wasn’t telling everyone.
Elara, who sat in the back seat with her eyes closed, calculated everything in her mind: the scenarios that led to what was going on, who could benefit most, and whether there were any loose ends.
At the sa ti, Daniel, who had been waiting for her reply, placed the phone aside on the table once they reached the basent of the building that only a couple of people had access to.
"In the fifth room, sir," Alen said, and Daniel followed the man, his gaze stopping at the man seated in the middle.
The man, sitting on the chair with his face covered with a black cloth, eyes blindfolded, mouth gagged, and hands and legs tied to the chair, moved a little when he heard so commotion.
Daniel nodded to his subordinate, who walked over to the man, removed the cloth from his face, and then removed the blindfold and cloth from his mouth.
The perpetrator blinked furiously before squinting his brows as he tried to concentrate on the man standing before him.
"Who are you? Why have you brought here? What did I do?" The man asked one after the other, and Daniel shook his head.
"You are not the one who gets to ask questions here. I will ask questions, and you, my friend, will answer them correctly without hesitation. Okay?" Daniel asked.
He looked around, waiting for the man to reply, and when he didn’t, Daniel grabbed the random weapon from the table and struck it hard on the man’s body.
It turned out to be a baseball bat with thorns, and the man’s flesh was punctured at various places; the impact almost made him fall to the side if not for Sage, who stopped it.
"Okay?" Daniel asked again, and the man writhing in pain nodded quickly.
"Yes,"
Daniel looked at him, and the man trembled.
"Yes, sir," he corrected himself.
Daniel smiled, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.
"Now tell who the hell this Arnold guy is and where I can find him," Daniel asked.
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