Chapter b236 /b

    Dario’s POV

    They mmed the door behind the owner, and I could feel the tension thickening in the bair/b. The room was small, cold, and smelled faintly of stale coffee. My stomach twisted into knots as I watched them shove him into the chair like they were tossing a ragdoll. He didn’t even flinch.

    I had no idea what we were walking into.

    ra stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, her gaze cold as ice. She didn’t hesitate.

    “Sit tight,” she said, voice unwavering, a hint of something sharp beneath the calm. “We’re not done yet.”

    The restaurant owner was sitting stiffly behind the metal table, his hands clenched into fists. His face twisted, a mix of anger and something deeper–fear? Panic?

    “What is this all about?” he growled, eyes darting like he was ready to bolt. “I’ve already told you everything! Why bring me back in here? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

    ra sat across from him, her hands folded neatly in front of her, an unreadable expression stered on her face. “No,” she replied, her voice cool, “you haven’t told me everything.”

    He shook his head, fast, desperate, the sweat dripping down his forehead now. “I told you, I don’t know what you want from me. That’s the truth!”

    ra leaned in slightly, her gaze steady. “We believe Mr. Nora was poisoned, and you had a hand in it.”

    His mouth fell open, eyes widening. “What? Poisoned? That’s insane! Mr. Nora died from an allergy attack! Everybody knew that!”

    I watched as his words spilled out, all panic, no reason.

    “You can’t pin that on me… It’s been five years,” he continued, shaking his head furiously.

    ra didn’t flinch. “If you’re innocent, you won’t be falsely used. So, tell me again–what happened that night?”

    The room hung still. He was visibly squirming, shifting in his seat like he couldn’t find the right words. His chest heaved with each breath.

    “I’ve told you already,” he muttered. “Nora died from an allergy. I had nothing to do with it.”

    I leaned against the wall, watching. The conversation was getting nowhere. But then, ra’s gaze flickered- something wasn’t right.

    She pressed forward, her voice softening but every word heavy with meaning. “Do you know Lady Amara?”

    The name hit him like a physical blow. His face twisted, brow furrowed in confusion. “Lady Amara? Who…who is thatb?/bb” /b

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    EB vouchers

    He looked bso /bsincere, almost too sincere.

    Something felt off.

    ra leaned back, eyes narrowing, biting her lip as she processed the look on his face. She had a theoryb–/bba /bsuspicion–but was it misced? All the evidence connected Amara to this mess, and yet, the owner acted like he bwas /bhearing the name for the first time.

    Just as the silence started to weigh on me, the door mmed openb, /band Dario strode in, the folder in his hand a symbol of the storm about to hit.

    He threw it onto the table, the sound sharp and heavy.

    “Look what we just dug up,” Dario snapped, his voice a mix of disgust and authority. “Are you still going to deny your involvement?”

    The owner’s hand trembled as he opened the folder. His face paled when he saw the first page–an online shopping record with every suspicious purchase listed: duct tape, sleeping pills, ropes, detergent…the kind of shopping list that raised more questions than answers.

    And then there it was–a photograph of the car ident from the night Nora died. The same night.

    The color drained from his face. I watched as his shoulders slumped, defeated.

    “You and your wife aren’t exactly a perfect match, are you?” Dario’s voice dripped with contempt, his eyes fixed on the man as if he were a bug under a magnifying ss. “Waiters from your restaurant told us you threatened her. Your shopping records confirm it, too.”

    The man’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “What I buy with my money is my businessb… /band that waiter? He’s lying! Lying!”

    “You’re still lying,” Dario growled, his fist mming onto the table with a loud thud.

    The force made the man flinch. “Do you want us to bring your wife in here?” Dario’s voice was low, dangerous. “Let her see this ‘evidence‘ we’ve found?”

    The man’s face crumbled, terror flooding his eyes. “No…No, please don’t involve her…”

    “Then start talking,” Dario snapped, his patience clearly thinning.

    The man wiped his forehead with a shaking hand. Sweat dripped onto the table.

    “Fine!” he hissed. “I thought about it… once or twice… killing her… but that’s all! I never followed through. My wife’s alive–look, she was fine! You can’t punish me for a thoughtb!/b”

    ra’s eyes shed with disgust. It was always the same. The husbands always cracked under pressure. Always.

    “But,” the man’s voice turned sharp, desperation creeping into it. “That’s not what you’re here for, is it? You think I killed Nora? No! No! That wasn’t me! I poisoned the food… for my wife, not Nora!”

    Dario leaned forward, his face inches from the man’s, eyes zing. “Then why the hell did the poisoned food

    7:08 bWed/bb, /bbSep /bb10 /b

    end

    up

    with Nora?b” /b

    :

    55 volimern

    The man gasped, his eyes darting around, panicked. “It was raining that night… I hit someone on the way to Nora’s house. I got out to check on the person I hit, and–and that’s when the bags got swapped. I didn’t mean it to happen. I-”

    “You didn’tbel the bag?b” /bra asked, her voice cutting through the chaos.

    He nodded frantically. “I did! I even put a red sticker on itb, /bokay? A red sticker on the poisoned one… but it bwas /ball a mistake!”

    The air in the room felt like it was closing in. The man was breaking down, his face contorting with guilt and horror.

    “You…you don’t understand. It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he sobbed, wiping his face with his sleeve. “I fucked up. I didn’t mean it…”

    ra exhaled sharply, her thoughts racing. Everything clicked. He meant to kill his wife, but it went horribly wrong. Dario’s brother had died because of a stupid mistake.

    But was that the truth? All of it?

    The man was on the verge of losing it. “You won’t–please don’t sentence me to death! It was an ident, a mistake!”

    Dario didn’t answer. He straightened, shoulders taut as he stormed out of the room. I watched him go, a storm brewing in his wake.

    “Wait, Dario!” I called, rushing after him.

    He stopped, and I nearly crashed into him.

    Before I could speak, he spun around, pulling me into a fierce hug. “Thank you,” his voice cracked, low and heavy. “If it weren’t for you… if it weren’t for you, I’d still be in the dark. You helped me find the truth, ra. I’ll owe you for the rest of my life.”

    I rubbed his back, trying ito /icalm the storm inside me. “It wasn’t just me. You did most of the work. Nora… he’d be proud of you.”

    But still… I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling.

    Was Amara really innocent? Did I miss something crucial?

    Something didn’t add up.

    7:08 Wedb, /bbSep /bb10 /b