He Got Engaged to His First Love On the Day I Died-Chapter 56: It Was Clearly You Who Hired the Killer
Theodore Grant’s expression turned cold in an instant.
Felix Finch knew Natalie Morgan better than her own husband did.
"How is she not capable of it?" A chill emanated from the depths of Theodore Grant’s eyes. "You must be heartbroken that Natalie Morgan was arrested, aren’t you? Let me tell you, she wanted to kill Wanda Lynch. She paid someone one hundred thousand yuan to start a fire. That is an undeniable fact."
Felix Finch still didn’t believe it.
It was true that Natalie Morgan hated Wanda Lynch.
But from what he knew of her, she would have been more likely to just leave than to kill someone.
’Could it be...’
"Do you have any proof of this?"
"The police have already arrested her. What more proof do you need?" Theodore Grant’s cool eyes stared directly at the man before him. "Dr. Finch seems quite concerned."
"And what about you?"
Felix Finch had never believed Theodore Grant was a heartless person.
But seeing him treat Natalie Morgan so cruelly, time and time again, he was forced to believe that Theodore was indeed ruthless.
"I’ll listen to the police," Theodore Grant said coldly.
Felix Finch scoffed. "She’s been with you for two years, after all. You..."
"It seems Dr. Finch really is heartbroken." His tone was mocking, his eyes utterly cold. "You’d best not try to save her. She made a mistake, and she should be punished for it."
"But did she really make a mistake?" Felix Finch grew agitated, his eyes turning red. "If she really did something wrong, I’d have nothing more to say... But is the truth you want the same as the truth in your heart?"
Theodore Grant’s face darkened.
’The truth in my heart?’
Felix Finch saw something in his eyes that he couldn’t accept.
He shook his head and said with a sense of helpless sorrow, "You should take a good, long look at yourself and think about whether you’ve wronged her at all, from the moment you two started talking about divorce until now."
Even he, an outsider, had never doubted Natalie Morgan’s character.
Yet Theodore Grant, a man who had shared a bed with Natalie Morgan for more than seven hundred days and nights, was insisting she was the culprit.
’Just because the victim was Wanda Lynch, he’s unconditionally taken a stand against Natalie Morgan?’
Things had come to this. Felix Finch said no more; there was no point in saying anything else.
「After Felix Finch left.」
Theodore Grant returned to Wanda Lynch’s hospital room.
Some of the vision in her eyes had returned.
But her leg was still in a cast.
"Theodore, Dr. Finch came by. What did he want to talk to you about?"
"About the fire at your house," he said flatly.
Wanda Lynch murmured an "oh," her eyes cast downward as she sighed regretfully. "The police said Natalie was the one who hired someone to do it. I know she doesn’t like me, but I never expected she’d want to see me dead."
"So you also think it was reasonable for her to do something like this?"
He stared into Wanda Lynch’s eyes.
But Wanda Lynch avoided his gaze. "I didn’t believe it at first, either, but the police... they wouldn’t lie, would they?"
The police wouldn’t lie.
’But could someone else be lying?’
His gaze lingered for a long time on Wanda Lynch’s trembling eyelashes.
After leaving the hospital room, Theodore Grant went home.
The servants were still at work.
He took off his jacket, loosened the buttons at his collar, and irritably brought a cigarette to his lips.
"Mrs. Wallace."
He took the cigarette from his lips, holding it between his fingers.
The housekeeper came running over, afraid of being too slow. "Sir, you called for me."
"I’m asking you, what really happened with Wanda Lynch’s knife wound last time?" Theodore Grant stared at her, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The housekeeper’s heart pounded wildly. She swallowed hard. "S-Sir, didn’t Miss Lynch say it was Mrs. Grant... who hurt her?"
"Were you there?"
The housekeeper’s heart clenched.
Of course she was there. And she knew that Natalie Morgan hadn’t stabbed Wanda Lynch at all.
But she didn’t dare tell the truth.
If she told the truth, her son in college wouldn’t be able to graduate and get his diploma.
"N-No, I wasn’t there."
She could only lie.
Theodore Grant flicked his fingers, and the housekeeper retreated as if fleeing.
’No one was there. Who was he supposed to believe?’
He put a cigarette to his lips and took a slow drag. Smoke filled the air, his expression a mask of proud indifference and distance.
He drove to the police station.
He didn’t rush to see Natalie Morgan, but went to see the arsonist first.
The man had a flattop, a long, dark face, a scar on his eyebrow, and wasn’t very tall. He had an air of nonchalance, as if none of this concerned him.
’Probably a regular here.’
"Who are you?"
The man sized up Theodore Grant.
This person’s clothes and aura were anything but ordinary, and the Patek Philippe on his wrist, in particular, made the man’s eyes burn with envy.
"I’m asking you, who hired you to set the fire?"
The man curled his lip in disdain. "The cops already asked. Now you’re here asking me?"
"Was it Natalie Morgan who hired you?"
"Of course it was her. If it weren’t for the hundred thousand yuan she offered, who would do something illegal like this?" the man said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, not hesitating for a moment. He eyed Theodore Grant. "Who are you to Natalie Morgan?"
Theodore Grant didn’t answer his question, calmly watching his cunning eyes. "Are you sure everything you’re saying is true?"
"Of course. This is a police station. You think I can lie here?"
「Leaving the meeting room.」
Theodore Grant exchanged a few pleasantries with a police officer.
The officer told him that some of the evidence had already been submitted and it looked very bad for Natalie Morgan. They were still conducting a more detailed investigation, but the worst-case scenario was that the charges would stick, and she would go to prison.
Theodore Grant’s feelings were complicated.
He smoked a cigarette outside.
After signing the visitor form for Natalie Morgan, he walked into the visitation room.
When Natalie Morgan was brought in, she looked unwell. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, her clothes were wrinkled, and her hair had lost its shine.
She looked up and saw the man standing there.
He was like a cold, stone statue. His gaze was like tempered ice—deep and unapproachable.
She didn’t know what his purpose was in coming to see her.
’He probably just wanted to see me in this pathetic state.’
She remembered he had also visited her father after he was arrested. The scene must have been quite similar to this one.
"Theodore Grant, are you satisfied now?"
There was not much resentment in her eyes, nor were there tears. Mostly, there was just indifference toward him.
She seemed to have accepted this outcome, as if this was how it was always meant to end.
"Clearly, you were the one who hired someone to set the fire." His eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed.
Natalie Morgan laughed, her eyes hollow and mocking. "You really think I could come up with a hundred thousand yuan to hire someone? Theodore Grant, you give me too much credit."
One hundred thousand yuan.
That was what he might spend in a single night.
But it was more household money than she could save in an entire year.
’And he actually believed it.’
"Theodore Grant, you’ve achieved your goal. My whole family is on the verge of being destroyed by you. So before I die, let’s get a divorce."
She wanted to go to her grave free and with her name cleared.
Even if she wasn’t buried—even if she were thrown to the wind, into the sea, or even down a garbage chute—she didn’t want to die still bearing the title of Mrs. Grant.
She was utterly sick of it.
He looked at her, and suddenly an indescribable emotion churned within him.
The feeling came on like a tidal wave.
It felt as if he had done something to wrong this woman and was desperate to defend himself, but the words caught in his throat, stuck and unable to come out.
He took a deep breath.
"You still have the nerve to talk about divorcing me? You should be thinking about how you’re going to get out of here."
