Chapter 117 You Flatter Me
Cressida eyed Tristan warily.
"You can keep the money. I won't chase you for the new designs either," he said, offering terms that seemed almost too generous. "All I want is an answer."
He looked her in the eyes and spoke with deliberate calm. "Two months ago, you went to the police station and told them you'd been abducted. Tell me what really happened that day. Don't leave anything out."
Cressida's pupils shrank. Blood pounded in her head, then drained away, leaving nothing but cold dread in her chest. She wondered how Tristan could know about that.
The police had closed the case for lack of evidence, and she hadn't told a soul since. Still, she couldn't believe how much he had already dug up about her.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice wavered even as she forced out the denial.
"You don't?" Tristan stepped closer until she had nowhere left to go.
"Let me jog your memory," he said. "An abandoned shipping container on the outskirts of the city, two abductors,

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