Exposing the Charade of Deep Affection (PDF)
Chapter 394

Chapter 394 Couldn't Find Anything

I looked at him, cold and sarcastic, "So, what are you trying to say with all that?"

He looked at me, his slender fingers pinching my cheek, and said, killed them. Will you come with me?"

"Madman!" I exclaimed, staring at him intently.

Scolded, he did not get angry, only saying, "What? Can't bear to part with your relatives, friends, or Walter?"

"This man was a lunatic, unreasonable, I didn't want to waste a single extra word on him. Looking at him, I said coldly, "Ezra, this is not the border, not your lawless paradise. You killed Captain Lucas, you captured me, do you really think the police can't find you?"

"Pfft!" He chuckled softly, not responding to me, when his phone rang.

He lowered his gaze and glanced at me, a smirk playing on his lips. "Your timing is impeccable," he said. "How about we make a bet? Let's see what the police can do to me, even if they manage to find me." Watching his arrogant and mocking face, I pursed my lips, remaining silent.

He raised his eyebrows with a smile, regaining Daniel's warm and friendly demeanor. He turned and left the dark room. I never knew that a person's expression could change so quickly.

In the past, I had never doubted that Daniel, who was so gentle and kind to me, was the ruthless killer, Ezra. These two dissimilar individuals, if not for the death of Captain Lucas, I would never have

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thought of them as the same person.

The room was still empty in the dark, the image on the TV screen at the foot of the bed was still paused on the intertwined naked bodies of a man and a woman. The woman's figure was exceptionally soft, and the man seemed particularly engrossed.

Looking at the familiar face of the man on the screen, it felt as if countless sharp blades were piercing my heart, causing such pain that even my breath carried a pungent taste.

Why was Walter with Marjorie?

What on earth happened that night, why did they act like this? So much time has passed, did Walter really not realize that I was kidnapped? And my mother and Alexander, last night was New Year's Eve, they didn't see me all night, did they really know nothing?

Ezra's words were not useless to me. I was a living person, now kidnapped and locked in this pitch-black room, my life hanging in the balance. If I were to die, discarded in the wilderness, how long would it take to be discovered? Would it be years later, reduced to a pile of bones, or would I be found only after I had rotted and maggots had set in?

Such thoughts made me increasingly terrified and helpless. I was

afraid, afraid of being abandoned in the wilderness after death, afraid of Ezra going mad and killing everyone I cared about, and even more afraid that the person I cared about the most wouldn't even know how I died.

I struggled to stand up from the chair, attempting to find an exit in this room, seeking a way to save myself.

But I didn't expect, Ezra would come in so quickly. He stood at the stairway, teasingly playing with his gaze on me, the corner of his

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mouth carrying a wicked smile, watching me as if I was a headless fly blindly searching.

Their eyes met, and he smirked, descending the stairs, toying with the curved knife in his hand. His finger pressed against the blade, and like a bead of water, blood emerged after a moment. He pursed his bleeding finger, letting the blood drip, seemingly without any sense of pain.

Looking at such a lunatic, I just felt my scalp tingling.

He looked at me, his voice low and mocking, "Don't bother, you can't leave here." Then he smeared the blood from his finger on my face, squinting, "And no one can take you away."

I shook off his hand, glaring at him furiously. If I could, I would have loved to stab him a few more times.

He didn't care at all about how I saw him. He just sat down on the chair, saying, "The police did indeed come to investigate me, but unfortunately, they didn't even have any evidence to suspect me, so they could only make a fruitless trip here."

Yes, without evidence, no one could do anything to him.

I pursed my lips, thinking of Walter. Perhaps, if I had been missing for a long time, he would have noticed something was off, would have come looking for me here, would have sensed something. But what if it wasn't as I thought?

I didn't know, but Ezra seemed to enjoy my panicked and helpless state. He was leaning back in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on me. The curved knife in his hand had been put back into the box, and he seemed to have carefully put it away. He glanced at me, his voice calm yet seemingly carrying a warning. "I gave you the knife to protect yourself, not to hurt me, Tabatha You can't use it to hurt me in the future."

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I pursed my lips, coldly watching this pervert. I despised him, even loathed him, wishing he would just drop dead.

Seeing me look at him like this, he frowned, a look of displeasure on his handsome face. He stood up, walked over to me, and gripped my chin, glaring at me as he said, "Don't look at me like that, I don't like

it."

I glared at him, my voice hoarse, "Ezra, what on earth do you want to do?"

He must have been tired, his fingers rubbing my chin, his voice somewhat weary as he said, "What's the rush? You'll find out sooner or later."

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