Chapter 112
But she couldn't bring herself to tell the truth. If she did, her son, who was in college, wouldn't be able to graduate and get his diploma. "No, I wasn't at the scene." She had no choice but to lie.
Casper flicked his fingers, and Marian scurried away like she was escaping. With no one at the scene, who should he believe?
He lit a cigarette and took a slow drag, the smoke swirling around him, his face a mask of solitude and detachment.
Casper got in his car and drove off, heading to the police station. He didn't rush to see Eliza but went to see the arsonist first.
The man had a crew cut, a long, dark face, a scar above his eyebrow, wasn't very tall, and had an indifferent look. He must've been a regular here. "Who are you?" The man eyed Casper up and down.
Casper's attire and demeanor were far from ordinary, especially the Patek Philippe on his wrist, which made the man's eyes gleam with envy.
"I'm asking the questions here. Who told you to start the fire?"
The man sneered, "The cops already asked me that. Why are you asking again?"
"Was it Eliza who told you to do it?"
"Of course, it was her. Who would risk doing something like that if it wasn't for the hundred grand she promised?" The man spoke like it was the most natural thing in the world, not hesitating for a second. He glared at Casper. "What are you to Eliza?"
Casper didn't answer, just watched the man's cunning eyes calmly. "Can you swear that everything you're saying is true?"
"Of course, this is a police station. You think I can lie here?"
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Casper left the meeting room and exchanged a few words with the officers. They told him that some of the evidence had already been submitted, and it didn't look good for Eliza. They would continue investigating, and the worst-case
scenario would be a ve
which meant prison time.
Casper felt conflicted. He stepped outside and smoked a cigarette.
After signing the visitor's form, he walked into the visitor's room to visit Eliza. When Eliza was brought in she looked terrible. Her eyes were dull her clothes wrinkled, and her hair lifeless.
She looked up at Casper standing there. He was like a cold statue, his gaze icy and impenetrable.
She didn't know why he'd come to see her-maybe to witness her downfall. She remembered when her father was arrested; he had probably visited him too.
"Casper, are you satisfied now?" Her eyes held no resentment, no tears, just a cold indifference toward him. She seemed to have accepted this outcome as if it was inevitable. NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.
"Clearly, you hired someone to start the fire." His eyes narrowed, and his brows furrowed.
Eliza laughed, a hollow, mocking sound. "You really think I could come up with a hundred grand to hire someone? Casper, you give me too much credit."
A hundred grand was what he would spend in one night, yet it was more than she could save in a year. And he believed it.
"Casper, you've got what you wanted. My family is falling apart. Let's get divorced before I die."
She wanted to be free, even in death. Whether she ended up in the wind, the sea, or even a trash heap, she didn't want to be Mrs. Welton anymore. She was tired of it all.
He watched her, a storm of unspoken emotions churning inside. It felt like he had done her wrong and he wanted to explain, but the words got stuck in his throat.
He took a deep breath. "You're still thinking about divorce? You should be figuring out how to get out of here."