Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 197

Ethan had completely lost it.

To get a reduced sentence, he confessed everything he knew, down to the smallest detail.

"It was Martin, it was him!"

"He gave me five million dollars in cash to kidnap Grace. The money is still in my office safe, I haven't even had a chance to deposit it!"

"I have a recording of his call to me, my phone records everything!"

Such is human nature.

Thick as thieves when there's money to be made, but at each other's throats when their lives are on the line.

Felix stood to the side, tablet in hand, his fingers flying across the screen.

"Mr. Clarke, based on the information Ethan provided, our investigation team is already on it."

"We have indeed traced several large sums of money transferred into the Ward Group through overseas shell corporations."

"The source is Martin's private account."

Damien turned around, adjusting his immaculate collar.

"Is the evidence conclusive?"

"It is."

Felix pushed up his glasses, a cold glint flashing across the lenses.

"Not only that, but by following the trail, we found something even more interesting."

"While your father was unconscious in the ICU, Martin was quietly forging share transfer documents."

"Also, the driver of the van used to kidnap your wife was hired by one of Martin's former drivers."

The chill in Damien's eyes deepened.

What a brilliant scheme.

Playing the part of the dutiful brother at the hospital while stabbing him in the back.

He was even willing to use his own niece-in-law's life as a bargaining chip.

"If he's in such a rush to dig his own grave,"

Damien's voice was so cold it could have drifted up from hell.

"Then I'll be happy to hand him the shovel."

"Let's go. Back to the hospital."

"I want him to see with his own eyes how his entire world comes crashing down."

But before heading to the hospital, he needed to make a stop at home.

Emerald Crest Gardens, in the master bedroom.

Grace was leaning against the headboard, holding a glass of warm water.

The ligature marks on her wrists had turned a dark, purplish-black.

It was a shocking sight.

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