Introduction
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Monica
Chapter 1
"No, no more, please, be gentle."
In the dimly lit room, the air was thick with intimacy. Emily Johnson's body moved rhythmically, slowly succumbing to the effects of alcohol.
The man's muscular torso pressed against her, his lips capturing hers, stealing her breath away.
When Emily opened her eyes again, she felt a wave of soreness throughout her body. She stared blankly at her surroundings, tears involuntarily streaming down her face.
Hadn't she perished in the fire?
Emily touched her face, finding no scars, and her heart was still beating.
She had truly been reborn!
But before Emily could process this, the increasingly clear sound of breathing beside her made her body tremble. She turned her head and saw the man's chiseled features, feeling as if she had been struck by lightning.
How could it be William Brown, the head of the criminal investigation unit!
This cold, unyielding man.
Memories of last night's absurdity flashed through Emily's mind, her face reddening to the point of almost dripping blood. She bit her lip in frustration, thinking, "I really brought this on myself."
She had just graduated from college and hadn't found a job yet, but William had already detained her as a suspect and interrogated her for three days.
Angry and frustrated, she had drugged William and left him in a bar, intending to see him humiliated.
But she hadn't expected to end up suffering herself.
Taking advantage of William still being asleep, Emily quickly picked up the clothes scattered on the floor, dressed, and left.
Her heart pounded like a drum all the way.
As Emily reached the elevator, the doors opened to reveal a gruesome scene: a woman's body lay twisted in a horrifying position, a knife embedded in her forehead, and blood continuously flowing.
Emily, still reeling from the joy of her rebirth, was shocked into a cold sweat by the sight.
She stepped back in horror, her pupils contracting.
Scenes from her past life flashed through her mind. When all the evidence pointed to her, William had once again treated her as the prime suspect.
"Emily, how could I have a daughter like you!"
"Emily, you owe me my daughter's life! Why wasn't it you who died?"
"Emily, the evidence is conclusive. Your fingerprints are on the murder weapon. Do you confess?"
William's hawk-like gaze had shattered her last defenses.
And all her tragedies stemmed from the deceased before her—Harper Anderson.
A young, beautiful graduate student with a promising future, dead in the most unlikely place.
A hotel cleaner walked by, saw the scene, and screamed in terror, retreating, "Someone died! A dead body!"
Emily pressed her lips together, her gaze fixed on the deceased. She took a deep breath, quickly calming herself. "I'm a forensic scientist. I'll examine the body. You go call the police."
The cleaner, mind blank, shakily took out her phone to call the police as Emily donned disposable gloves and approached the body.
Emily put on gloves and shoe covers, stepping into the elevator.
The deceased wore a bathrobe, her body still warm, pupils dilated, eyes filled with tears of defiance and desperation.
Death had occurred no more than two hours ago.
Emily crouched down and found a clear fish-shaped mark at the corner of the deceased's mouth.
She knew this mark all too well.
Her heart raced.
The suffocating feeling from her previous life's final moments suddenly overwhelmed her. Emily felt as if she had glimpsed a corner of the devil, instinctively withdrawing her hand, her rationality nearly snapping.
The cleaner's trembling voice sounded behind her, "I-I called the police. They'll be here soon."
Emily asked, "How did she die?"
The knife in the forehead was truly terrifying, and the cleaner couldn't bear to look.
Emily pressed her lips together, saying nothing, her gaze growing darker.
Soon, hotel staff arrived.
Emily issued orders coldly, "Seal off the hotel immediately. No one is allowed to leave. Also, I need access to all the hotel's surveillance footage!"
"Do you have the authority to access hotel surveillance?" William questioned coldly, making Emily's back stiffen.
Emily slowly turned, looking at William standing among the crowd. His superior height and looks, excessively refined features, were unforgettable.
Emily had complex feelings about him.
If William hadn't detained her as a suspect without cause, she wouldn't have done something so absurd out of anger.
"I'm a forensic scientist and a police officer. I naturally have the authority," Emily said, taking a deep breath, her voice cold.
"Where's your badge?" William's gaze was icy.
Emily was at a loss for words.
She hadn't officially started her job and didn't have a badge yet.
And all of this was thanks to William.
Emily said, "Captain Brown, I've already determined the cause of death. If you don't want the killer to escape, you'd better cooperate with me now, access the surveillance, and seal the scene."
William stepped out of the crowd, his tone calm, "I don't need you to tell me what to do. What's the cause of death?"
Emily replied solemnly, "Asphyxiation."
William's gaze darkened, and he said, "So the knife in the forehead is the killer's revenge?"
Emily hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "It appears so."
"Does the deceased have any external injuries?" He stood at the elevator door, not entering, continuing to ask.
Emily replied, "Yes, multiple bruises, and head trauma."
"Does anyone know the deceased?" William asked in a deep voice.
"Her name is Harper. She checked in last night, alone," a staff member raised a hand, speaking weakly.
William asked, "Was there anything unusual at the time?"
The staff member shook his head and replied, "It was a normal check-in. Because she was attractive, we chatted a bit. She said she was here for work. I suspect it was related to sex work. She said she was waiting for someone named Emily. I don't know if she ever met them."
Emily's pupils trembled as she examined the body.
In the next moment, a pair of handcuffs snapped onto her delicate wrist. William pulled her, his gaze sharp as a knife, "No wonder you were so eager to cooperate. You knew the deceased. Emily, is there a single truth in your words?"
Emily was dragged away from the scene, her gloves stained with blood, some on her clothes, her hair disheveled, looking quite a mess.
Emily shouted, "William, I don't know her. You can't falsely accuse me like before! I've never harmed anyone, let alone killed!"
Emily struggled, her wrist bleeding from the effort, but she seemed oblivious to the pain. "William, let me go. I can find the killer."
William looked down at her and said, "The criminal investigation team will be here soon. If you're innocent, show me the evidence. Your relationship with the dead is unclear. I won't let you touch the body again."
The criminal investigation team arrived quickly to secure the scene. William gave orders methodically, finally taking Emily back to the station for questioning.
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George seethed through gritted teeth: "Put her on the phone!"
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Breed me? Cast me aside? Cum bucket? I think not!*
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Someone, please, come mop up the word vomit this woman has just spewed.
“I have her under control, Trisha, back the fuck off.”
**Control? Oh, hell naw! ** He hadn't met the take no bullshit southern bitch I could be.
Rage brewed as I elbowed open door.
Well, here goes everything.
About Author
Monica
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