Chapter 7 The Stain on the Sheets

A reason to investigate always makes things easier to trace. "Huh? Oh, yes, there was a murder, but the timing seems off, and the location is a bit far away. The two events probably aren't connected ... " Leo's thoughts shifted so quickly that even he hadn't caught up with where Damien was going. "Probably?" Damien's deep voice came through the phone, carrying an enigmatic, almost dangerous undertone. Leo froze for a couple of seconds before he understood what Damien meant. It wasn't about whether the two incidents were connected. Damien wanted it thoroughly investigated regardless—whether it had to do with the murder didn't matter. What mattered was that this gave Damien a legitimate excuse to investigate without raising suspicion. Leo quickly adjusted his tone. "No, you're right. There's no 'probably' about it. As a law-abiding officer, the most important thing is a strict, detail-oriented attitude. We must leave no stone unturned, no clue ignored. I'll start investigating right away. "But, Damien, any tips on where I should focus? Maybe give me something to help speed up the process?" Leo's words were smooth, his way of fishing for more information about the situation. "What I need to know is who picked up a woman along the way," Damien's voice had settled into a calm tone, but there was still a hint of tension as if he was gritting his teeth. She couldn't have walked away. She must have gotten into one of the vehicles that passed through. Once he found the car, he'd find her. And he couldn't wait to see how far she thought she could run. What a foolish woman! First, second, and now a third time! "Wait ... a woman? Damien, are you talking about your woman?" Leo's voice shot up several decibels, full of curiosity. This was big news! The ever-unflappable Damien, had a woman? But Damien had already hung up. On the other end of the line, Leo stared at his phone in disbelief. Seriously? Damien had cut him off mid-conversation, just like that? How was he supposed to sleep after hearing that? Forget sleep—he needed to dig up every last detail about this woman who had caused Damien to make such a fuss. More importantly, what on earth had she done to infuriate Damien this much? Meanwhile, Tad followed closely behind Damien as they made their way to the 22nd floor. When he saw the clothes and robe piled outside the door, he froze in shock. "Mr. Ashford, why are these clothes and the robe lying out here?" He immediately realized something huge must have happened last night. "Send them to the laundry," Damien's icy gaze locked onto Tad, his tone cold enough to freeze anyone in their tracks. "Alright ... " Tad knew he had said the wrong thing and quickly shut his mouth, mentally scolding himself. Why would Mr. Ashford leave the clothes outside the door? Surely, there was enough space inside the room for a few pieces of clothing! "Mr. Ashford, there are reporters outside the hotel," Tad reported, picking up the clothes with a more serious expression after receiving a phone call. His face grew grim, not knowing what had unfolded the night before. He couldn't tell if the reporters had shown up because of it. Reporters? Damien's eyes narrowed. Last night, it had been obvious that she had been drugged, which made it highly likely that these reporters were after her. Someone wanted to destroy her reputation—or there could be other motives at play. Damien didn't respond, but his expression darkened even further. Sensing the shift, Tad knew better than to keep talking. He was starting to realize that everything he said today was wrong. His safest option was to stay quiet. Still, as Tad glanced past Damien into the room, his eyes widened in shock at the state of it. What happened in here? Did someone rob Mr. Ashford? As for what had been stolen, only Mr. Ashford knew. I didn't see anything. I didn't see anything at all! Damien shut the door in Tad's face, locking him outside. Looking around at the chaotic room, Damien's expression barely changed—until his eyes caught sight of the vivid red stain on the bedsheets. He froze for a moment, his sharp gaze narrowing as realization dawned. She was a virgin. Thinking back to the frenzy of last night, the corner of his lips tightened into a thin line. Damien walked to the balcony. She had entered through the balcony last night. The only way she could have made it from her balcony to his was by jumping across from the room next door—which belonged to Sebastian Sinclair. But how had that woman ended up in Sebastian's room? His eyebrows furrowed in thought for a moment before he pulled out his phone and made a call. "What's up, Damien?" The phone rang a few times before the person on the other end answered, his voice groggy as if he had just been woken up from a deep sleep. Anyone else disturbing Sebastian's sleep would've faced serious consequences, but since it was Damien, Sebastian let it slide without complaint. "What's the deal with the woman in your room last night?" Damien asked, his tone probing. He wanted to know if Sebastian had been involved in any of this. The woman's appearance last night was too strange. Could it have been one of Sebastian's tricks? Given Sebastian's mischievous nature, it wasn't impossible. "Woman? What Woman? What room?" Sebastian's confused voice came through the phone.