Chapter 7 Lie Detector Chair
Harper wanted to struggle, but fighting against Blaze in the bathhouse had drained all her strength.
She was powerless.
She slumped in the lie detector chair, like a mouse caught in a trap.
“So, Miss Shaw, let’s begin,” Dylan smiled kindly, taking out a document from behind.
“After you’re done, can I leave?” She just wanted to get out of this hellhole now.
Dylan smiled but didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at the document in his hand and began questioning, “What’s your name?”
“Harper Shaw.”
Dylan glanced at the tablet screen beside him and nodded. He continued, “Miss Shaw, what were you doing three years ago?”
“Three years ago, I was working on my comic series, ‘His Possessiveness’.” This comic series had made her famous for a while, so she remembered it clearly.
“Anything else? Did anything important happen?” Dylan continued.
“No, nothing else.”
“Miss Shaw, you were pregnant at that time,” Dylan suggested.
“No, I wasn’t pregnant.”
Dylan looked at the tablet screen, which showed no fluctuations in the data. It was an honest answer. He couldn’t help but feel puzzled.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.
He paused and continued, “That’s impossible. We investigated, and three years ago, you stayed at home almost all the time. You hardly ever went out. Some people who saw you even said you always wore loose clothes during that time. If you weren’t pregnant, why would you hide at home for a year?”
“That’s because I was working on my comic. I like to be alone when I’m creating. I wore loose clothes because they’re comfortable,” Harper said, feeling speechless. Could this even be considered evidence?
“Miss Shaw, where were you on New Year’s Day three years ago?”
“On New Year’s Day? I should have been at my hometown celebrating the New Year. I go back every year.”
“No, that night you were with our Master,” Dylan said, “You were with him, and you seduced him.”
If Dylan’s wrinkled face hadn’t looked so serious, Harper would have thought he was joking.
“No! A man as violent as him, I feel disgusted every time I see him. How could I possibly seduce him?” Harper glared at Dylan, her tone full of agitation.
Scenes from the bathhouse flashed in her mind, her body being possessed inch by inch by that arrogant, despicable man.
“Bang…”
Outside, on the balcony, Blaze lounged lazily on a white wicker chair. Hearing the sounds from inside, his expression turned grim, and he forcefully slammed his wine glass onto the table.
Disgusting?
This woman dared to say him disgusting?
In the room Dylan frowned and continued speaking to Harper, “Miss Shaw, we’ve looked into your background.”
“You’re just the adopted daughter of The Shaw Family. You have a younger sister, a biological daughter of your adoptive parents. From childhood to adulthood, you’ve always fallen short compared to her, in looks and abilities. You’re just a third-rate comic artist, while she’s a nationwide celebrity and the future heiress of The Davidson Family, a cosmetics empire…”
Her own background was suddenly laid bare, as if her clothes were being stripped off in front of everyone.
Harper clenched her fists, biting her lip fiercely.
“I had a psychologist analyze it. Long-term feelings of inferiority and jealousy would make you desperate to surpass your sister,” Dylan said. “So three years ago, you deliberately seduced Master, hoping for a one-night stand to marry into wealth. But Master ignored you. Later, you found out you were pregnant and wanted to use the child as leverage. You were afraid Master wouldn’t want the child, so you secretly hid away and gave birth, right?”
He said it all as if he’d witnessed it firsthand.
Long-term feelings of inferiority and jealousy…
“It’s ridiculous. Who is the psychologist? Does he know me? Understand me?”