Filed to story: Billionaire Bride’s Revenge (Vera & Howard)
“I’ll pay double,” Victor replied generously and shifted his gaze to another design sketch.
Both designs were flawless in concept and execution, making it impossible for him to choose one over the other.
Pleased by Victor’s approval, Vera felt a sense of satisfaction. She had already prepared a rough sketch. For her, refining both of these designs was effortlessly manageable.
As Vera reached to retrieve the drawings, Victor also extended his hand. Their fingers brushed against each other by chance.
When their eyes met, both Victor and Vera were taken aback, withdrawing their hands simultaneously.
A brief moment of embarrassment flashed across Vera’s face as she told herself that their hands had touched purely by accident.
She put the design drawings back into her bag and glanced up at Victor.
“Since there’s nothing more, I’ll head back first, Mr. Adams,” she said.
As she turned to leave, Victor called out, “Why don’t you stay and have lunch with me? Our company’s canteen offers quite decent food.”
Vera turned to respond, but before she could speak, a sudden knock at the office door interrupted her.
Samuel appeared at the door, visibly anxious. After a hesitant glance at Vera, he whispered, “Mr. Adams, bad news. The director of the design department has been found dead.”
Victor’s frown deepened. “What?”
Shock registered on Vera’s face. The director, with whom she had had a confrontation just yesterday, was now dead?
Samuel responded somberly, “She died in her office just now. The details are still unclear for now.”
Victor, maintaining his composure, stood up and led the way out, with Vera and Samuel following.
The design department was in disarray, with the director’s body on the floor, surrounded by whispering coworkers.
“What could she have done to be killed like this?”
A woman in glasses asserted confidently, “Vera is the most suspicious, considering their argument yesterday.” Another colleague cautioned, “Hold on, don’t make accusations without proof. It’s slander.” Undeterred, the first woman insisted, “Think about it. Vera argued with her yesterday, and now she’s suddenly dead. Isn’t that suspicious?”
Overhearing this, Victor, Vera, and Samuel absorbed the rising tensions. Vera, feeling a cold dread, sensed a metaphorical net closing around her.
Victor, observing the escalating gossip, emitted a chilling aura that silenced the room. His stern gaze and deep voice cut through the whispers.
“Enough. What are you suggesting?”
His voice quelled the murmurs instantly, and the room fell silent.
Vera, her fists clenched, looked down at the director’s lifeless body.
Across from the director’s office, a high-rise building stood, and a bullet hole was clearly visible in the office’s shattered window.
“Such audacity,” Vera thought. “To commit murder in broad daylight.”
Victor surveyed the area and then commanded in a cold tone, “Don’t move anything. Samuel, call the police.”
Samuel nodded and dialed the police.
Victor declared to the room, “Everyone present is a suspect. Later, everyone must cooperate with the investigation.”
As soon as he finished speaking, someone quickly accused, “It has to be Vera. They argued just yesterday, and now the director is dead. It’s too coincidental.”
As the accuser finished, murmurs of agreement filled the room. Another person added, “It’s suspicious. Vera’s only been here once, and now this happens.”
Vera responded coolly, “I was with Mr. Adams in his office when the incident occurred.”
The accuser retorted, “You could have hired someone to do it from one of the buildings across the street.”
Frustration marked Vera’s expression. These individuals were close to the director, and it seemed they were intent on blaming her.
Vera glanced at the surveillance camera in the corner. “Can we check the footage?” she asked.
“The camera’s been down for two days,” the accuser snapped back, eager to place blame. “It provided the perfect window for your crime.”
Victor’s gaze sharpened as he interjected, “Do you have any evidence to support your claim?”
“Absolutely,” the woman said, stooping to reveal a piece of paper clutched in the director’s hand-a fragment of Vera’s design drawing.
Shock gripped Vera.
Her design being clutched by the director was damning. “This clearly points to her being involved,” remarked the accuser.
Victor’s expression darkened.
“I didn’t do this,” Vera asserted, panic edging her voice.
Just then, the police arrived. After a brief overview of the scene, one officer turned to Vera with a stern look. “Miss, please come with us for questioning.”
All the clues and evidence seemed to lead straight to Vera, especially the torn piece of the design drawing. Victor stepped in front of Vera, his expression stern and unyielding.
“This evidence isn’t enough, and we don’t have the full picture yet. You can’t just arrest her,” he said firmly.
The police hesitated, aware of Victor’s influence, and knew they had to handle the situation carefully. But the seriousness of the matter pushed them to speak.
“Mr. Adams, we’re just doing our job. If Miss Montgomery isn’t involved, we’ll release her once our investigation is complete.”
Victor didn’t back down, ready to argue further, when Vera touched his shoulder softly. She shook her head slightly and said calmly, “It’s okay. I didn’t do anything wrong, so I’m not worried about being investigated.”
Then, she looked at the police officers.
“I’m willing to cooperate and give my statement. Just make sure my name is cleared.”
Vera was fully cooperative, though Victor’s brow remained tightly knit. Being questioned by the police meant they already saw her as a suspect. But Vera had made her decision, leaving Victor no choice but to step aside as the officers escorted her away.
Victor quickly turned to Samuel, his voice cutting through the air. “Get the surveillance footage from yesterday’s meeting room and this morning at my office entrance. Send it to the police station.”
He trusted Vera completely, but this whole situation felt like a trap set against her.
There was also something that didn’t add up. Vera had always kept a low profile; her social circle was small, almost nonexistent. Who could possibly hate her enough to frame her like this, using someone’s life as a weapon?
By this time, Vera had been taken to the police station. She sat in a small room meant for taking statements, the cold chair beneath her adding to her discomfort, while a bright desk lamp shone directly on her.