Chapter 389

The overhead lights flickered to life, casting harsh illumination across the interrogation room.

Nathan's piercing gaze locked onto Oliver as he entered carrying a sleek laptop. The air grew thick with tension.

"Go to hell... I won't talk." The captive's voice cracked from dehydration, yet defiance still burned in his bloodshot eyes. Even starvation couldn't break his resolve.

Oliver set the laptop down with deliberate calm. "I'm not here for information." His tone carried an unsettling certainty.

The prisoner slumped against his restraints, too exhausted for further protest. His cracked lips parted slightly at the sight of the water bottle Oliver produced.

Placing a chair directly opposite, Oliver crossed his legs casually. "Your silence means nothing. Someone always talks eventually." He rolled the water bottle between his palms, watching condensation form.

The man's throat convulsed as he tracked every movement of the water. His tongue felt like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth.

With a quiet click, Oliver opened the laptop and rotated the screen. "I wonder if your associate shares your... fortitude."

The prisoner's entire body went rigid. His pupils contracted to pinpricks at the live surveillance footage.

"Your younger brother, isn't he?" Oliver's smile didn't reach his eyes as he slid the water within reach. "Mr. Goldmann has taken a personal interest in his interrogation."

A strangled sound escaped the prisoner's lips. "Take me... just let him go. He's just following orders like I was. If I talk, we're both dead men."

Oliver tapped a key, saving the recording. "Mr. Goldmann would never harm an innocent. But your employer? That's another matter."

The truth hung between them - Oliver already knew everything.

The prisoner's shoulders sagged as defeat washed over him. His breathing turned ragged.

Closing the laptop with finality, Oliver stood. "Mr. Goldmann respects your loyalty. Pity it's misplaced." He paused. "Your partner... Shane, isn't it?"

Shock registered on the prisoner's haggard face. They knew more than he'd imagined possible.

Dry lips parted. "Shane... he introduced me to Ms. Summers. Been her loyal dog for years."

"And the woman from Underground Freeway? Who handled that?"

"Shane. Always Shane." The words tumbled out now. "And Ms. Summers directly."

Oliver pressed further. "The Whitmore family. Why them?"

A swallow. "Mr. Whitmore saw Ms. Summers' face. She couldn't risk exposure. We... we promised them safe passage home. The accident was staged."

With all questions answered, Oliver secured the damning recording with a keystroke. As he turned to leave, a desperate hand shot out.

"Please... my brother."

Oliver glanced back. "That's up to the authorities now. If you want him alive, tell him to disappear. Permanently."

The prisoner nodded mutely. For a hired gun, prison might be mercy.

Outside Summer Pavilion, Oliver slid into the waiting car and dialed Nathan. "It's done. Full confession."

Nathan's voice came through crisp and clear as he fastened his cufflinks. "Excellent. Activate surveillance at the training camp. We spring the trap the moment our prey appears."

His gaze drifted to Evelyn, sleeping deeply amidst tangled sheets. Gently, he brushed a stray curl from her flushed cheek, savoring the lingering warmth of their passion. The peaceful rise and fall of her breathing belied the storm about to break.