Spoiled by the CEO after amnesia!-Chapter 1203 - 1181: Interrogating Her Personally

The director still had some doubts: "Really?"

"Since she ultimately chose her own family and her brother, disregarding her own and her husband’s dignity, and abandoned her in-laws, I have no reason to have any attachment to her. This case is purely something I am completing on behalf of my father. After all, the Longding Society is a Chinese gang, and a few months ago, China’s National Security participated in this arms case."

The director felt relieved and said no more, stood up, and extended his hand: "Well, I also sincerely welcome the assistance of the Ning Family. For the next few days before the court hearing, everything will be handled by Young Master Nie. If there is a need for interrogating suspects or any other arrangements, just instruct the police officers to do it. Happy cooperation!"

Nie Yixiao glanced indifferently at the director’s outstretched hand, tidied his suit, and turned to leave with his guards.

The director awkwardly retracted his hand suspended mid-air. This young master of the Ning Family was indeed unusually cold.

After a pause, he instructed a subordinate police officer: "Keep an eye on Young Master Nie."

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The prison cell.

Qiao Yongyong woke up from fainting with a splitting headache; it was already evening.

She got up; her limbs felt like they were about to break, and she winced as she looked down at her fair arms and legs covered with bruises.

She thought those three police officers wouldn’t easily let her go and would continue to torture her in that room, maybe even...

Unexpectedly, she was sent back so soon; it was a small blessing amidst misfortune.

In the coming days, the police would treat her like this every day, right?

They would surely keep pressing until she confessed.

Staggering, she climbed down from the bed and went to wash her face with cold water at the tap when the iron door clanged open. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

A Mexican female officer came over, speaking English: "Come with me."

She paused, indeed... another private interrogation was coming?

Reflexively, she hugged her arms; the pain from the police baton still fresh in her memory, she gritted her teeth and eventually followed the female officer out of the cell.

...

Walking along the corridor, the two stopped in front of an interrogation room.

The female officer knocked on the door, and upon receiving a response from inside, she pushed the door open, motioning Qiao Yongyong to go in.

"Officer, how many people are inside? Are those three officers who interrogated me just now also there? Don’t leave, stay here with me. Can you?"

She hesitated at the door, asking fearfully like a startled bird.

She wasn’t afraid of being humiliated or beaten by the police; she was afraid of having what happened before repeat... having a female officer present would be reassuring.

Those inside the room heard her trembling inquiries, and a sudden cold sneer sounded.

The female officer sensed the displeasure from inside and impatiently pushed her inside.

Qiao Yongyong was pushed into the room and held her breath.

There was only a single dim light bulb illuminating the room, making it even darker since it was nighttime.

In the center was a long table often used for criminal investigation purposes.

Behind the long table was a long-backed swivel chair.

A silhouette was seated in the chair, back facing her, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window, the long back obscuring the figure and even the hair color, making it impossible to discern who it was.

All that could be seen was a well-defined hand resting on the chair’s armrest, fingers tapping up and down in the shadows.

It was clearly a man’s hand, elegant, clean, and powerful.

The shape and tapping style were exactly like someone she knew.

In an instant, her heart raced, yet she quickly let out a self-deprecating sigh, dismissing the thought; it was impossible, how could it be him, was she being silly?

Several local Mexican police officers, like attendants beside a sovereign, stood on either side of the figure.

She swallowed hard, the room had no instruments of torture, yet its atmosphere was colder than the previous room, making her inexplicably more afraid.

A Mexican police officer pressed her onto a chair: "There are some questions we need to ask you again, answer honestly."

So it was just questioning? She sighed with relief.

She knew the police were trying to trick her into changing her statement again.

This was a common police tactic, repeatedly extracting statements from suspects like a battle of attrition, wearing down their body and mind until they slip up.

No matter what the police asked, she maintained her resolve, just as before, by firmly stating it was all her doing.

Several officers sat across from her, starting to take notes.

They were the same questions that had been asked before.

Her answers were exactly the same as before.

The silhouette behind the chair by the window maintained its regal posture, silent, listening to the police questioning her, with long fingers leisurely tapping on the armrest.

Halfway through, one officer grew impatient: "Are you still not planning to tell the truth? Haven’t you suffered enough? How stubborn are you planning to be?"

Her tired little face remained resolute: "I told you, the arms case was all by myself..."

Before she could finish speaking, the swivel chair thundered with a sound, and the figure that had been quietly listening suddenly stood up!

The man’s black hair fluttered momentarily under the light, clearly an Asian, standing over one hundred eighty-five centimeters tall, towering over the nearby Mexican police officers, exuding an aura of nobility.

Qiao Yongyong’s eyes widened in an intense premonition; before she could react, the man turned around, facing her, staring coldly.

So familiar, yet so unfamiliar.

On his handsome face, those deep and inscrutable pupils looked at her being questioned by the police as if he were looking at a stranger!

"Yi—" She thought she was dreaming, crying out abruptly.

Before the rest of the word could escape, he strode forward in two large steps, bent down, grabbed her chair, and pulled it right beneath his gaze!

The few officers, seeing this, immediately stepped aside, providing enough space, seemingly awaiting his disposal.

She stared at him in shock, her initial overwhelming joy receded like a tide upon seeing his indifference toward her.

He squinted his eyes, tilting his neck slightly, with a disdainful look examining her from head to toe, much like inspecting a skinned fish.

The woman before him, her hair disheveled, eyes filled with panic, donned an ill-fitted prison jumpsuit, with the collar and hem seemingly tugged at, showing signs of tearing, even revealing patches of pale skin, obvious bruises on her forearms and calves, and fresh slap marks on her cheeks.

The gaze grew icier, finally evoking a sneer of contempt from deep within his eyes.

She had never seen such a sinister look on his face, eyes full of animosity, it was the authentic look of an officer interrogating a criminal, especially one deemed heinous!

She guessed he used to interrogate like this during his time in the ISM!

She never expected that one day, she would be his criminal, undergoing personal interrogation from him!