Chapter 8

Hearing this from the side, Clinton's face darkened. He felt that for a five-year-old child to utter such words sure must have been taught by Madeleine. "Chris... be good and let go quickly. He is not your father." Madeleine was choking back her emotions as she coaxed Chris. Upon hearing this, Chris looked very disappointed. Upon seeing that Beckett did not respond to his query, his dejected expression deepened, and only then did he reluctantly release his grip. Subsequently, Chris and Madeleine were led away by Clinton to the backyard. Beckett didn't say anything. It was only when their figures disappeared from his sight that he looked down at his trousers which had gotten stained. At that moment, his assistant Carl ran over flusteredly, "Mr. Beach... the bathwater and clean clothes are ready. Why don't you go freshen up first? I will immediately throw away the stained trousers." Carl knew Beckett best, anything that was dirty had to be thrown away. "No need." Beckett said nonchalantly and walked away. Hearing this, Carl gasped in shock. No need? Mr. Beach unexpectedly said no need to throw them away! Mr. Beach's thought process was really hard to fathom! Soon after, Beckett entered the car. In the back seat of the car, Beckett's gaze turned towards the window, while his fingers lightly tapped on his leg. He had a pensive expression, as if lost in thought. After a long while, he suddenly spoke up in a deep voice, "It's been six years. Have we still not found that woman?" Upon hearing this, Carl's hands on the steering wheel involuntarily tightened. He meekly replied, "Mr. Beach, the hotel's surveillance from that night was all damaged, and nothing was recorded. Moreover, after you left the hotel, you didn't order me to investigate right away..." Upon hearing this, Beckett's eyes darkened and he interrupted, "It's my fault?" "Of course not, Mr. Beach, I dare not blame you. What I mean is that it's really difficult to investigate," Carl said so but complained inwardly that, if the information was unavailable, he might as well do good and leave it be. If they were to find that woman, given Mr. Beach's character, he would surely skin and bone her and throw her into boiling oil. Having worked with Beckett for seven years, Carl understood his character. He also knew that Beckett had a strong psychological aversion to filth. For a long time, there had been numerous women desperately trying to get into Beckett's bed, but none of them ended up well. Unexpectedly, six years ago, a woman had actually managed to sleep with Beckett who was always cold towards strangers. This led Beckett to fly into a rage, causing a major reshuffle within the entire Beach Group. Even several high-level executives were implicated. In line with Beckett's style, he would rather kill one hundred innocents than let an offender escape. He had cleared all those who might have conspired against him out of Beach Group. In fact, he didn't plan to look for the woman who had slept with him at first. He thought that she approached him with a motive and within a few days, she would take the initiative to negotiate terms with him. However, the woman had never appeared in the next two years. This unexpected move made the usually composed Beckett lose his patience. In the third year after the woman disappeared, he started to have his assistant investigate her whereabouts and identity. But how could they still investigate after three years had passed? "Is Harvey Wiggins still unwilling to disclose her information?" Beckett's voice gradually turned colder. Harvey was a high-ranking member of the Beach Group. No one knew what gave him the audacity to scheme against Beckett, only for it to end in a disastrous result. "He only admitted to adding unauthorized substances into your drink but stubbornly denies introducing a woman into your room," Carl was quite helpless. He had interrogated Harvey many times, but Harvey's response remained consistent. Carl even thought that perhaps that night, Beckett simply had a drugged drink and had a vivid dream. Upon hearing this, Beckett massaged his temples, his eyes closed with exhaustion, "Continue investigating." Over the years, he could not remember when he started frequently dreaming about the scene that night. "Don't touch me… Please, don't touch me." "I'll give you money, a lot of it… Can you just let me go?" In truth, Beckett was also unsure whether his relentless pursuit of that woman over the years was to punish her or for some other reason. He only remembered her constant crying and begging that night. He admitted that it wasn't just the drink that caused him to sleep with her - he was also drawn to her. The lights were off that night; he could not see her face. Yet her scent was like a deadly temptation to him, making him irresistibly gravitate towards her. Then, a woman's face suddenly popped into his mind. Could it be... Madeleine? He wasn't sure if it was a hallucination, but he felt like Madeleine's voice and her faint body fragrance closely resembled the woman that night. Once he realized this, he abruptly opened his eyes and ordered in a stern voice, "Stop the car."