"Who was it?" Justin asked, raising a brow.
Beneath his calm and charming facade, his heart began to pound. Though he maintained an outward composure, the panic simmering underneath was impossible to fully conceal.
Cyrus-the young, brilliant, and seasoned criminal investigator—was far too
perceptive to be deceived. He saw straight through Justin's act, the corner of his lips curling into a cold, knowing smirk.
"It was someone you know very well-Mr. Beckett Senior's secretary, Ben Gorham. He has turned himself in and made a full confession about his role in disposing of the body and covering up for you all those years ago.
"He has told us everything. I suggest you confess and accept your punishment. You can't hide your crimes any longer."
Justin scoffed. "When you arrested me, didn't you say I had the right to remain silent?" He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back casually. Closing his eyes as if utterly at ease, he added, "I won't say another word until my attorney arrives."
Cyrus drew in a slow breath, his eyes reddening with restrained fury. This bastard still carried himself with such composure. It was clear this would be a long and grueling battle.
Not long after, Justin's attorney, Theron Rourke, arrived at the police station and immediately confronted Cyrus. "Chief Taylor, you insist that my client is a murderer. In that case, you must present concrete evidence. Someone may have turned themselves in and accused my client, but that doesn't prove his guilt. It could very well be an attempt to frame him—part of a larger scheme.
"For 20 years, this individual said nothing. 20 years. And now, out of nowhere, he steps forward to accuse Mr. Justin Beckett of murder?"
He let out a derisive scoff. "Does that sound reasonable to you? I have every reason to believe he acted under someone else's instructions. And their goal is to permanently remove my client as the heir to Beckett Group.
"Mr. Beckett Senior's life is still hanging by a thread. Who knows if he'll pull through? If he doesn't survive, and my client is successfully framed, wouldn't Mr. Jasper Beckett naturally inherit Beckett Group and all of its assets?"
As he spoke, his voice gained momentum, weaving an elaborate theory. "Everyone in Solana City knows that the Beckett brothers, Mr. Justin and Mr. Jasper, are on poor terms. Mr. Jasper has long coveted Mr. Justin's position, both openly and in secret. It's hardly a secret anymore.
"So, shouldn't you be investigating Mr. Jasper instead, Chief Taylor?"
Cyrus let out a cold sneer. "You're quite the storyteller. It's a shame you chose to become an attorney."
Theron clenched his jaw, momentarily at a loss for words.
"The fact that we arrested Justin means we have evidence," Cyrus continued. "Not only do we have a witness, but we have physical evidence as well."
Cyrus shot a glance at the officer beside him. The officer nodded, retrieving an evidence bag from beneath the table and handing it over.
Cyrus placed it in front of Justin. "You should remember this very well, shouldn't you?"
Justin lowered his gaze—and in the next instant, his pupils constricted.
Inside the bag lay a fruit knife, its blade eaten away by rust, yet still stained with traces of dried blood.
Under the table, his hands clenched into fists. Veins bulged along the back of his hands, throbbing with a dark, violent urge he struggled to suppress.
How could he forget? He had
stabbed Mildred so many times. Each strike, every angle, was etched into his memory with horrifying clarity-as if it had happened only yesterday.
The bloody scene surged back into his mind. And yet, instead of fear, a laugh burst
from his lips. It was as if he had just recalled a fond memory.
His laugh rang out sharp and jarring, sending a chill down even Theron's spine.
Justin was a complete psychopath.
Cyrus' eyes burned with raw hatred. For a fleeting moment, he wanted nothing more than to draw his gun and end Justin on the spot. But that would be far too merciful.
"I don't know what that is. I don't remember," Justin muttered, sticking to his script.
"That was the weapon you used to murder Mildred. It carries her blood, along with your fingerprints and your own blood." Cyrus' eyes reddened further."You never expected this did you? You thought you'd wiped everything clean after disposing of the body and had someone erase the evidence.
"But your grandfather saw through you. He knew what you were cruel, violent and beyond redemption. So he kept it. He held onto this weapon and waited for the day
you would
finally lose control Content belong's
"And when that day came, he would use this very blade to bring you to justice himself."