Echoes of Vengeance: The Sweet Wife's Perfect Revenge-Chapter 39: The Favour

At six in the evening,

Giselle Lancaster’s top skill was applying just enough pressure to make the cops move. They didn’t dare stall when she threatened to file a case against them if they missed the evidence due to their delay.

So, despite not taking Aveline’s statement, since she was still asleep, the cops had to take action. Damien’s name, status, and connections meant nothing under Giselle’s fire.

A team raided Sterling Villa. The housekeeper and the security didn’t even get the chance to alert Damien. Everyone was taken into custody from the premises.

At the same time, another team stormed the Ashfords Holdings headquarters. It was late, and most of the employees were gone. The security tried to warn Damien’s secretary, but they had no information to take any action.

Damien, like a practical leader, faced the cops. "How may I help you?" He was calm and collected, without a hint of fear.

The lead officer out of five presented a sheet of paper, "Damien Ashford, This is your official notice for interrogation. You may make one call before we seize your devices."

Damien’s brows furrowed. Even during his hit-and-run case, they hadn’t dared to arrest him.

How dare these cops waltz in and throw around their weight when he did nothing?

Nothing!?

Image of white powder dropping into a glass of orange juice slammed into his memory.

He snatched the notice. The name ’Aveline Laurent’ was in bold. Then he continued reading, slow poisoning, And Lead.

His jaw clenched. He had told Aveline to call him. He wouldn’t twist the narrative and fabricate the reports.

Instead, she had gone to the police?

He looked at his secretary, "Get my lawyers." Then to the cops, "There must be a mistake? Why would I poison my wife?"

He dialed Aveline’s number. Considering he never treated her badly and she was always too soft, too trusting, maybe she would defend him.

However, the line rang till the end, but there was no answer.

He tried again, but an officer yanked the phone away from his hand, "Time’s up. Damien Ashford, don’t make it hard for both. Move."

"I just want to speak to my wife...." Damien sounded desperate, "I need to know how she is doing."

"She is hospitalized. Barely conscious." The two officers took him away. The other three began seizing Damien’s office.

....

At the police station,

In a cold and airless interrogation room, Damien was on the edge of an outburst. His hands were itching him to smash the chair and table.

Two middle-aged lawyers rushed into the interrogation room and bowed to Damien, "Director Ashford..." They greeted him despite earning his ignorance in return.

One quickly leaned in, "They found a vial of lead in Sterling Villa. It’s with forensics. Have you ever touched it?" Their priority was protecting Damien, even at the cost of anybody.

Damien had anticipated the worst scenario the moment he chose to slow poison Aveline. He had played the perfect husband and treated Aveline like a doll, even if that boiled his blood. Why would he risk touching the vial?

He didn’t need a lawyer to use their knowledge on him. Rather, the lawyers should just obey his instruction.

"The housekeeper. He was using his fingers to add it to her juice and milk. Test his blood for metal."

The housekeeper had no idea that touching the fine powder of lead was more than enough to leave its traces on the body.

"Pay off a maid to pin it on the housekeeper. I’ll say I knew nothing. If Walter just confesses his actions, fine. If he pushes the blame on me, let her lawyer deal with him."

The lawyers stood stunned for a moment. What he had said was chilling. An almost perfect crime. Still, they nodded.

As they turned to leave, Damien asked, "Who’s her lawyer?" Though the Laurents were powerful, it was in the lawyer’s hands how the cops acted.

The two lawyers exchanged looks before turning to Damien. "Giselle Lancaster."

"F**k."

Damien’s reaction was almost immediate.

He had seen Aveline speaking to Giselle at the NexGuard Event. But didn’t expect them to be close enough to be available on such short notice.

....

When the police returned, Damien asked, "How is my wife? Is she okay? Who poisoned my wife? Has the culprit been found?" He sounded like a worried husband who didn’t care if he was in the interrogation room.

The cops pointed at the chair for Damien to sit, "Take a seat, Mr. Ashford. Your wife is awake, but she is in shock. Let her rest. You cooperate."

Damien breathed a sigh of relief, hearing the news of his wife. He sat as his thoughts raced.

What if Aveline truly believed he had poisoned her?

The situation wasn’t good. Things would be complicated if Aveline didn’t say a word in his favor.

The interrogation began. They questioned him about their marriage and their life. Damien’s answers were smooth, calculated. He gave away nothing.

Then came Sterling’s staff.

Everyone painted a perfect image of the couple. Kind and supportive wife, protective and loving husband. They also mentioned how they never fought, even if Damien wasn’t able to give time for Aveline in his busy schedule.

Then all pointed to one pattern. Walter, the housekeeper, served Aveline. The chef only cooked, and the maids only cleaned. frёewebnoѵēl.com

A maid finally cracked, "I-I saw him doing it once. I saw the housekeeper add something to Mrs. Ashford’s juice, then he put the small bottle into a drawer and locked it. I didn’t say anything, I-I was scared of losing my job."

Then her eyes widened, "Was it the poison?" she sniffled as she dabbed a tissue on her cheeks, "Mrs. Ashford was always kind to us. Even hosted lunches just for the staff. How could he do that to her?"

Everyone but Damien, Walter, and the maid who confessed were released.

....

By eleven, a forensics report came. The fingerprints on the vial were confirmed. It was Walter.

The cops returned to Walter, who was weeping. They placed the vial on the table and spoke, "This has your fingerprints, Mr. Walter. Do you still deny you have no idea about it?"

"I-I didn’t mean to." Walter cried, without knowing how to lie his way out.

"Why did you do it?"

"She was rude..." He sobbed, choking on his words.

The cops exchanged looks. None of the staff or Damien had said a word against Aveline or her behavior. So they didn’t believe his words. "Would you poison Mr. Ashford if he were rude?"

Walter broke, "Never. I’m sorry.... I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have done that..." His cry of apology became louder.

When the cops went out of the office room, the lawyers tried one last play, "Now that the housekeeper has confessed, release my client. Don’t forget that he is a prominent figure in the business world. You can’t keep him here without proper evidence."

The cops showed a phone screen, showing a viral blog post, "Your prominent figure has a secret lover, Vivienne Sinclair." One sneered. "He had a motive."

Another one continued, "If all housekeepers started using ’rudeness’ as a reason to kill their owners, all rich people would have been dead by now."

"It’s just a rumor." The lawyer opposed in disbelief.

"We’ll find out.." Thus cops refused the lawyers, and Damien stayed in.

—–––––––

–––––

At the hospital,

Aveline sighed when her parents and brother refused to go home. Henry was on the couch, Margaret was at her bedside, and Charles was in the armchair.

A glimmer of guilt flickered in her eyes for a moment, but she blinked it away.

Her mobile lit up with a notification.

[Your in-laws are the entrance.] It was a message from Ezra

Though Nate aka Scarlett’s boyfriend wasn’t assigned to her case, he was feeding her live updates. So she knew everything and also the reason behind her in-laws at the door.

And Alaric had kept his word. The security around her room was doubled. No one got in without her permission.

She glanced at her parents. They need to know the true colors of Ashfords.

[Let them in.] She typed in response and quickly closed her eyes to pretend to be asleep.

A minute later, the door burst open.

Aveline gasped awake with calculated ease.

Charles rushed to shield her. Margaret rose to her feet, fists clenched. Henry rose slowly, deadly calm.

Cassandra snapped, "Aveline Laurent, drop the f**king case."

Next to her, Maxwell Ashford was tall and rigid. His face was dark as he glared at Aveline, "This is a family matter. How dare you involve the police?"

Aveline quickly held Charles’s hand before he exploded. Cassandra and Maxwell were elders. And she hadn’t cut ties yet.

Charles thought she was scared. He hugged her, trying to calm her down.

Margaret didn’t care about etiquette and grace when her daughter was poisoned. And now, Maxwell and Cassandra dared to be angry at her daughter.

She grabbed Cassandra’s arm and dragged her out of the room.

Henry wasted no words. He punched Maxwell in the face.

Aveline and Charles: "..."

Stunned, they glanced at each other. They expected them to argue, not this.

Outside the room, Margaret hissed, "You told me you would treat my daughter like your own." She shook in rage while resisting her urge to slap Cassandra, "You didn’t only fail, you didn’t even ask how she is doing." She growled.

Henry’s voice was ice, "Before I lose control and start counting the days to your ruin, get out."

Aveline and Charles: "..."

They had never seen this side of their parents. Their admiration peaked.

Aveline snickered, watching the Ashfords leave with humiliation as the security dragged them away.

Damien showed her how to scheme, and now she was returning the favor.