Can’t Win Me Back

On the way out through the airport halls, the police carefully covered Joseph's handcuffed hands with clothes to avoid creating unnecessary commotion.

Despite that, whispers and curious glances followed them.

The travelers even took pictures and posted them online.

In the interrogation room, Joseph, who always cultivated an image of elegance and reason, now pounded the table with his cuffed hands, screaming in frustration, "Didn't Aidan confess to everything? I don't know anything about his illegal drug business, and it has nothing to do with me.

Who put you up to this? Why target me and the Lovelace Group?" Cyrus stared coldly at the man he once called Uncle Joseph.

His lips formed a thin, impassive line.

"Mr. Joseph, is that foresight you're displaying, or perhaps a guilty conscience? I haven't even mentioned drugs, yet you're already incriminating yourself." Joseph broke out in acold sweat under Cyrus' unyielding gaze.

He attempted to leverage their relationship to his advantage.

"Mr. Cy ... |[mean, Cyrus! After all, I'm still your uncle!" "In this room," Cyrus countered, his voice devoid of emotion, "we are officer and suspect." Cyrus continued, "And besides, you are Edgar Lovelace's adopted son, not his biological son.

You have no blood ties to him or my mother.

seems rather

deep crimson, the sting of humiliation burning across

for illegal drug storage and distribution but also for inciting your secretary, Ernest Brown, to

was caught in the

Cyrus' gaze was sharp.

have a witness statement, and your secretary recorded

The evidence is solid.

it was attempted murder, you'll be spending the rest

did you say?" "Attempted murder," Cyrus repeated slowly,

typically stoic in the interrogation

My team

Mr. Edgar was saved.

his chair dishearteningly, as if all his energy had drained

burst into

useless son of

can't even do anything