Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young)
Chapter 73

Chapter 73 Saying Goodbye to Moore

As I stared at Doctor Miller's pitiful state, for a fleeting moment, I wanted to throttle him. He destroyed a life for just two hundred thousand.

He was absolutely vile.

Battling the rage welling up inside me, I took a calming breath and asked, "Was the person supposed to pick you up someone arranged by Benett?"

Given the suddenness of the incident, it was unlikely he could replace his contact unless someone had set it up beforehand.

He nodded. "I rang him up, and he told me to grab the money and bolt."

"Do you have his contact details?" I approached him, a glimmer of hope sparking in my eyes. If I could track down Benett through Doctor Miller, it would be a small victory.

"I tried his number. It's already disconnected," Maxwell chimed in. "Benett is pretty vigilant, he ditched his phone as soon as he sensed trouble."

I pressed my l*ps together, a bitter taste spreading in my mouth. I turned to Doctor Miller. Where was the last place you got in touch with Benett?"

Doctor Miller just shook his head, clueless when questioned.

After all this fuss, I ended up with no information at all. I could not help but feel disheartened.

It was clear we were not going to get any more information. I turned to Maxwell and said, Let's turn him over to the police."

Maxwell nodded, pulling out his phone to dial the number, while Idris, who had been quiet studied the hospital for a moment. I could not tell what he had spotted, but his dark eyes narrowed in thought.

He took the small knife from Maxwell, walked over to Doctor Miller, and crouched down in front of him, an eyebrow arched with challenge. "Are you going to spill, or do I need to persuade you?"

With that, he swiftly dragged the knife's tip across the back of Doctor Miller's hand. Doctor Miller yelped in pain, trying to pull his hand back, but Idris pinned his wrist down with a foot. The quiet space was suddenly filled with Doctor Miller's agonized screams.

"You're committing murder! This is illegal... Ahhhh!" As Doctor Miller's screams echoed, Idris drove the knife deeper.

He toyed with the knife, admiring the bright red blood staining Doctor Miller's hand. His voice was casual, his expression indifferent. "If you don't want to talk, that's fine. I can still explain to the police after I've crippled your hand." He prepared to apply more force.

Seeing Idris ready to strike again, Doctor Miller cried out in terror, "I'll talk, I'll talk! I know where Beneti is. He's at a casino in Macamer. He mentioned it when he called me earlier. He said he was enjoying himself there." After he finished, he pleaded through his pain, “I've told you everything I know. Please, let me go!"

Once he'd spilt everything, Idris pulled out the knife and tossed it back to Maxwell. He glanced

I nodded. Of course I had heard it. I was not deaf.

He arched an eyebrow, said nothing more, and looked at Maxwell. "Hand him over to the police. We've got stuff to do. Let's get out of here."

Before Maxwell had a chance to utter a word, Idris had already yanked me out of the factory. I put up a fight, but the disparity in strength between us was too great. Despite my resistance, I found myself being hauled into his car. Idris was the type who never bothered to ask for others opinions. As I sat in the car, a wave of annoyance washed over me, and I decided to stay silent for the entire journey.

As we drove into the city, I noticed we were not heading toward the Scotts. I frowned. "Could you pull over, please?"

He did not even acknowledge me, let alone look my way. Instead, he steered the car straight to the hospital. Confused, asked, "Why are we at the hospital?" He didn't respond, just pulled me out of the car and led me to the surgical department.

It was not until we were in the doctor's office that I realized he had brought me here to treat the wound on my leg. It was not severe! After the doctor cleaned the blood, he looked at the scab that had already started to form. He seemed a bit taken aback but bandaged me up anyway, reminding me to keep the wound dry and to avoid spicy food.

By the time we left the hospital, night had fallen. I was about to hail a taxi back to the Scotts when Idris stopped me. Knowing I could not outmuscle him, I did not put up much resistance. After all, a free ride was a free ride. As I climbed into the car, my mind was buzzing with thoughts about Benett. Doctor Miller had said he had gone to a casino in Macamer. That was going to be a tough situation to handle, considering Macamer was a special administrative region and it would not be easy for the police to make an arrest there.

Perhaps it was the stress of the past few days, but I soon fell asleep in Idris's car. When I woke up, I found myself in a bedroom at Clearwater Residence. The room was empty, and my stomach was growling from hunger. I got up to replace some food. As I was leaving the bedroom, I heard a sound from the study. I paused, then moved closer to see that it was Idris on the phone.

The person on the other end of the line was likely explaining something. He stood there, one hand casually tucked in his pocket, his voice stern. "Once everything is set up in France, send them over. I'll handle things with Grandma."

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