A trail of scarlet liquid stretched across the marble floor, reaching Silas Grant's feet.
The man's high-end, custom-made, red-soled leather shoes stepped over the bloodstain. He frowned in disgust and lifted his gaze to the person opposite him.
Simon Adler had also been restrained.
"How much do you know?"
Despite being at a disadvantage, Simon Adler remained composed. He answered truthfully, "I truly knew nothing about what happened tonight."
"If the old man and I had conspired in advance, I wouldn't have let her go upstairs."
"I never had any ill intentions toward her."
"And I'm not on the old man's side either."
"But I do admit... I did promise the old man I would restrain her and use her as a 'hostage'."
"However, the old man told me he wouldn't kill her."
"I knew his words couldn't be fully trusted, so I did make a point of staying by her side."
"Tonight, we were invited to Carla Sinclair's birthday banquet, as you should know."
