Falling For My Ex's Uncle - Chapter 479: Chapter 479
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"A pen?" I asked, frowning with confusion.
A pen, of all things—what could be so special about it that Alex would go to such lengths to report it stolen? There had to be more to this than met the eye.
I stared intently at Alex, trying to read something in his weary face. "What kind of pen could be so important to make you take it seriously?" I asked sharply.
Alex diverted his gaze, clearing his throat several times before slowly speaking. "It was a limited edition fountain pen, a gift from a friend. It holds great sentimental value to me."
His voice was low, and as our eyes met, his handsome face, though tinged with coldness and detachment, still had a magnetic pull. His intense gaze held emotions I couldn't quite decipher, sending an eerie chill through me.
Though his explanation seemed reasonable, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story. After all, it was just a pen. Alex wasn't the type to be overly sentimental about something so trivial. The critical part, I realized, was probably not the pen itself but the person who had given it to him.
Just as I was about to press further, the doorbell suddenly rang. Hector quickly went to answer the door, and two police officers walked in.
"Mr. Herrera," the leading officer said after showing his badge, "we are handling the burglary case at Chapney Mansion. After our initial investigation, we've found some clues and would like to ask you a few questions."
Alex gave a slight nod, motioning for the officers to sit. Once seated, they took out their writing materials and began their questions. "Mr. Herrera," the officer began, "from what we understand, a fountain pen was stolen. Could you provide a detailed description of its features?"
Alex described the pen's appearance, brand, and unique markings in detail. The officers listened attentively, took notes, and occasionally asked follow-up questions.
"Mr. Herrera, do you have any suspects?" the officer asked.
Alex was silent for a moment before replying, "Not for now. The security measures here have always been strict, making it difficult for outsiders to get in. I suspect it might be an inside job."
Hearing this, a sense of unease tightened in my chest. No wonder I had seen Hector; he seemed suspicious of the staff here.
I couldn't help but feel curious. Plenty of expensive items were in the house, so why would someone steal just a pen? If that pen held such significance, why didn't Alex keep it with him? Why leave it in a place he didn't often stay?
After asking a few more questions about the time of the incident and the people who had come and gone that day, the officers stood up to leave. Before they departed, they assured Alex they would begin the investigation immediately and try to recover the stolen pen as soon as possible.
After the police left, the living room fell into a heavy silence. I stared at Alex, my doubts growing deeper. It seemed like there was something he was hiding from me.
Because of the stolen pen, Alex not only reported the incident to the police but also made a generous donation to the property management, requesting an increase in security cameras.
Perhaps Wilhelm had been taken somewhere, and due to the heightened security with more patrolling guards and investigating officers around because of the theft, the killer was forced to deal with the body earlier than planned.
"Alex, is there something you're hiding from me?" I finally couldn't hold back and asked, my voice carrying a note of urgency. "Did that pen get stolen, indeed?"
Alex raised an eyebrow and smiled charmingly, his deep eyes gleaming with an almost amused light. He spoke slowly, "Why would I lie?"
"Do you know about Wilhelm Joetze's case?" I fixed my gaze on Alex, asking the question directly, my eyes filled with a probing intensity.
Alex sat upright in his wheelchair, exuding an air of innate composure. He slightly lifted his gaze, his eyes calmly meeting mine. His voice was low and cold as he slowly replied, "The body dumping case in the river—everyone in Nifelheim City probably knows about it by now."
I leaned forward slightly, my expression focused, and I said urgently, "Don't you find this case strange? The killer was able to murder the victim easily, yet they chose to dump the body in the river. Something must have happened unexpectedly to force them to do that. And besides, Disrey Park isn't far from here..."
Before I could finish my sentence, Alex abruptly interrupted me. His sharp gaze locked onto me, and his voice was so cold it seemed like it could freeze the air around us. "Laurel, you'd better stay out of this case."
I suppressed the anger surge within me, and my voice instinctively grew louder. "Why can't I be involved? Are you hiding something from me?"
I had believed that, even though our marriage was entangled with mutual benefits, some trust should have formed between us throughout our time together. But Alex's cold attitude now left me with an inexplicable sense of sorrow.
"Alex, don't forget that we are husband and wife. Even if it's all just an act, we should be honest with each other," I said through clenched teeth, each word deliberate, my eyes flashing with anger and defiance. "Do you know something about Wilhelm's case?"
Hearing this, Alex sneered disdainfully. "What could someone like me, sitting in a wheelchair, possibly know? Honest with each other? Have you ever been honest with me?"
His words were like a sharp dagger, plunging straight into my heart, making it ache so painfully I could hardly breathe. I opened my mouth, wanting to retort, but realized that what he said was, in fact, true.
Our marriage was nothing more than a mutual arrangement, a relationship built on each of us using the other for our own needs. Alex knew my preferences and the people around me, but only to maintain the facade of the "loving husband."
Beneath the surface of this seemingly intimate relationship, our time communicating and connecting was pitifully scarce. Even though we lived under the same roof, we were nothing more than two strangers who happened to know each other very well.
"Did you ever care about how I feel?" I stood up abruptly, my hands clenched into tight fists, the knuckles turning pale from the pressure. I stared at Alex angrily.
Alex remained expressionless, his face betraying no hint of emotion as though he were a statue. He spoke slowly, asking instead, "And what about you? Have you ever thought about the people around you?"
I stood there, frozen, as if struck by an invisible force. His words landed with a weight that seemed to crush my heart. The anger I had felt moments before vanished instantly, leaving a heavy, lingering guilt behind me.
Since Angela left, my mind had been consumed with finding the true culprit who killed her, leaving no room for the people around me who cared for me. I was so fixated on my obsession that I never once considered their feelings or safety.
"Laurel Parks, have you ever considered the consequences of offending a murderer?" Alex slowly lifted his downcast eyes, his gaze cold and indifferent as it rested on me. "If you don't fear death, at least fear the harm that could come to those around you."
A pen, of all things—what could be so special about it that Alex would go to such lengths to report it stolen? There had to be more to this than met the eye.
I stared intently at Alex, trying to read something in his weary face. "What kind of pen could be so important to make you take it seriously?" I asked sharply.
Alex diverted his gaze, clearing his throat several times before slowly speaking. "It was a limited edition fountain pen, a gift from a friend. It holds great sentimental value to me."
His voice was low, and as our eyes met, his handsome face, though tinged with coldness and detachment, still had a magnetic pull. His intense gaze held emotions I couldn't quite decipher, sending an eerie chill through me.
Though his explanation seemed reasonable, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story. After all, it was just a pen. Alex wasn't the type to be overly sentimental about something so trivial. The critical part, I realized, was probably not the pen itself but the person who had given it to him.
Just as I was about to press further, the doorbell suddenly rang. Hector quickly went to answer the door, and two police officers walked in.
"Mr. Herrera," the leading officer said after showing his badge, "we are handling the burglary case at Chapney Mansion. After our initial investigation, we've found some clues and would like to ask you a few questions."
Alex gave a slight nod, motioning for the officers to sit. Once seated, they took out their writing materials and began their questions. "Mr. Herrera," the officer began, "from what we understand, a fountain pen was stolen. Could you provide a detailed description of its features?"
Alex described the pen's appearance, brand, and unique markings in detail. The officers listened attentively, took notes, and occasionally asked follow-up questions.
"Mr. Herrera, do you have any suspects?" the officer asked.
Alex was silent for a moment before replying, "Not for now. The security measures here have always been strict, making it difficult for outsiders to get in. I suspect it might be an inside job."
Hearing this, a sense of unease tightened in my chest. No wonder I had seen Hector; he seemed suspicious of the staff here.
I couldn't help but feel curious. Plenty of expensive items were in the house, so why would someone steal just a pen? If that pen held such significance, why didn't Alex keep it with him? Why leave it in a place he didn't often stay?
After asking a few more questions about the time of the incident and the people who had come and gone that day, the officers stood up to leave. Before they departed, they assured Alex they would begin the investigation immediately and try to recover the stolen pen as soon as possible.
After the police left, the living room fell into a heavy silence. I stared at Alex, my doubts growing deeper. It seemed like there was something he was hiding from me.
Because of the stolen pen, Alex not only reported the incident to the police but also made a generous donation to the property management, requesting an increase in security cameras.
Perhaps Wilhelm had been taken somewhere, and due to the heightened security with more patrolling guards and investigating officers around because of the theft, the killer was forced to deal with the body earlier than planned.
"Alex, is there something you're hiding from me?" I finally couldn't hold back and asked, my voice carrying a note of urgency. "Did that pen get stolen, indeed?"
Alex raised an eyebrow and smiled charmingly, his deep eyes gleaming with an almost amused light. He spoke slowly, "Why would I lie?"
"Do you know about Wilhelm Joetze's case?" I fixed my gaze on Alex, asking the question directly, my eyes filled with a probing intensity.
Alex sat upright in his wheelchair, exuding an air of innate composure. He slightly lifted his gaze, his eyes calmly meeting mine. His voice was low and cold as he slowly replied, "The body dumping case in the river—everyone in Nifelheim City probably knows about it by now."
I leaned forward slightly, my expression focused, and I said urgently, "Don't you find this case strange? The killer was able to murder the victim easily, yet they chose to dump the body in the river. Something must have happened unexpectedly to force them to do that. And besides, Disrey Park isn't far from here..."
Before I could finish my sentence, Alex abruptly interrupted me. His sharp gaze locked onto me, and his voice was so cold it seemed like it could freeze the air around us. "Laurel, you'd better stay out of this case."
I suppressed the anger surge within me, and my voice instinctively grew louder. "Why can't I be involved? Are you hiding something from me?"
I had believed that, even though our marriage was entangled with mutual benefits, some trust should have formed between us throughout our time together. But Alex's cold attitude now left me with an inexplicable sense of sorrow.
"Alex, don't forget that we are husband and wife. Even if it's all just an act, we should be honest with each other," I said through clenched teeth, each word deliberate, my eyes flashing with anger and defiance. "Do you know something about Wilhelm's case?"
Hearing this, Alex sneered disdainfully. "What could someone like me, sitting in a wheelchair, possibly know? Honest with each other? Have you ever been honest with me?"
His words were like a sharp dagger, plunging straight into my heart, making it ache so painfully I could hardly breathe. I opened my mouth, wanting to retort, but realized that what he said was, in fact, true.
Our marriage was nothing more than a mutual arrangement, a relationship built on each of us using the other for our own needs. Alex knew my preferences and the people around me, but only to maintain the facade of the "loving husband."
Beneath the surface of this seemingly intimate relationship, our time communicating and connecting was pitifully scarce. Even though we lived under the same roof, we were nothing more than two strangers who happened to know each other very well.
"Did you ever care about how I feel?" I stood up abruptly, my hands clenched into tight fists, the knuckles turning pale from the pressure. I stared at Alex angrily.
Alex remained expressionless, his face betraying no hint of emotion as though he were a statue. He spoke slowly, asking instead, "And what about you? Have you ever thought about the people around you?"
I stood there, frozen, as if struck by an invisible force. His words landed with a weight that seemed to crush my heart. The anger I had felt moments before vanished instantly, leaving a heavy, lingering guilt behind me.
Since Angela left, my mind had been consumed with finding the true culprit who killed her, leaving no room for the people around me who cared for me. I was so fixated on my obsession that I never once considered their feelings or safety.
"Laurel Parks, have you ever considered the consequences of offending a murderer?" Alex slowly lifted his downcast eyes, his gaze cold and indifferent as it rested on me. "If you don't fear death, at least fear the harm that could come to those around you."
End of Falling For My Ex's Uncle Chapter 479. Continue reading Chapter 480 or return to Falling For My Ex's Uncle book page.