Chapter 106

Bradley personally examined the corpse and confirmed it was Wendelyn, ruling out any possibility of feigned death. As for the cause of death, it stemmed from Joshua ordering him to investigate the origin of that worm.

Wendelyn initially refused to talk, and despite Bradley’s prolonged interrogation, she remained silent. That night, she committed suicide by smashing her head against the wall.

The suicide was clearly suspicious. Bradley didn’t buy it for a second. If Wendelyn could get her hands on such sinister worms, then the real mastermind must have had even more discreet, bloodless ways to kill, leaving no evidence behind.

That way, Wendelyn would be dead, and the truth would die with her.

With the speaker on, Shermaine, entering from outside, heard Bradley’s words clearly. She walked in and asked, “Is the autopsy report in yet?”

Bradley replied, “Not yet. The autopsy requires the next of kin’s consent, but the police have ruled it a suicide.”

Shermaine paused for a moment, then said firmly, “I want to examine the body myself.”

Bradley replied respectfully, “Certainly. I’ll make the arrangements immediately.”

In Basterel, as far as Shermaine was concerned, Wendelyn was the only one who truly had it in for her and would play dirty tricks. Now that Wendelyn had been taken down, who else would dare mess with her?

Jameson and Ruth were ruled out—impossible suspects. Head down, Shermaine launched a tracking app on her phone and, after entering some of Wendelyn’s personal details, Wendelyn’s full activity log appeared on the screen.

That also cleared Freya and Zack—though both clearly bore her ill will, Wendelyn had never contacted them.

Before the engagement party, the only suspicious place Wendelyn visited was a bar. Perhaps that was where she made contact with the mastermind and got the worm.

Too bad the bar cameras missed their deal that night. Clearly, the real mastermind was quite savvy.

So, it was highly likely that the person trying to harm her was someone who knew Joshua and was completely obsessed with him.

That someone might be even more obsessive and deranged than Wendelyn.

Shermaine looked up, her gaze finally settling on the man. She asked, “Joshua, is there any woman around you who’s obsessed with you?”

“No,” Joshua answered without hesitation.

Shermaine pressed him, “Are you sure? Think again.”

Joshua looked at her. “I’ve thought about it. No one,” he said. He racked his brain but couldn’t recall a single woman who was especially fond of him.

Instead, the woman who had caught his interest was standing right in front of him, and his desire for her was raging. “But the real mastermind might know me—maybe an enemy of mine,” he added.

Shermaine shot him a look. “Aren’t your enemies supposed to be after your life?”

Joshua analyzed, “Shermaine, rumor has it that the notoriously cold-hearted Mr. York has a beloved wife he dotes on excessively. So it’s not out of the question that someone out there wants to make my life a living hell by killing you.”

Beloved wife?

Hearing this, Shermaine couldn’t help but let her imagination run wild.

She pressed her lips. “Wright, it’s not impossible. I can accept that.”

Joshua said solemnly, “Shermaine, I will protect you.” Even though she might not need his protection, from this moment on, whether she needed it or not, he would hold her dearest in his heart, shielding and cherishing her with all his devotion.

For thirty years, he’d never fallen for anyone. But now that he had, all he wanted was to lay everything at her feet—his heart, his soul, his very being.

Hearing those words, Shermaine smiled faintly. Just like at the start, Joshua was there, shielding her, and a strange warmth blossomed in her chest. Strong as she was, she had to admit to herself that sometimes, she really did enjoy being protected.

Shermaine smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

Joshua didn’t miss a beat. “Until we find out who’s behind this, I’ll be your personal driver to and from school.”

He was surprisingly eager.

Shermaine nodded slightly and accepted his offer.

After wrapping up their discussion, Shermaine suddenly noticed that Joshua wasn’t wearing a shirt. She arched an eyebrow, silently admiring his wonderful figure.

Then, her gaze fell on his abs.

He actually got an eight-pack.

His honey-toned skin bore an eye-catching tattoo, undeniably sexy. But it was obvious that beneath the ink, there had once been a sizable scar.

As Shermaine’s gaze lingered on his bare torso, he swallowed hard and asked with a teasing smile, “Like the tattoo?” Shermaine commented, “The suturing technique on this wound is rather crude. Had I done it, the scarring wouldn’t be this pronounced.”

“I had to stitch it up myself,” Joshua replied.

“Back then it was too dangerous.”

Well, that explained it.

“The tattoo looks amazing,” Shermaine said. In fact, she suddenly felt like touching it.