The car pulled up to the Ministry of Transportation at exactly 3:30 in the afternoon.
When the Minister of Transportation spotted Liam Williams, he practically tripped over himself to greet him, his face stretched into an obsequious smile. "Mr. Williams, we've located the man you were looking for."
"Good." Liam settled onto the sofa, his posture cold and commanding. He waved his hand casually, and the Minister understood the unspoken order immediately.
The Minister whispered a few instructions to his subordinate behind him, then turned back with a placating expression. "Mr. Williams, the boy does have some conscience left. He turned himself in this morning."
Turned himself in?
Liam's brow furrowed. Three days ago, they'd said the man had fled. Why would he suddenly surrender now?
Something was off.
"Take me to him." Liam's eyes narrowed as he spoke.
"Yes, of course..."
The Minister led Liam to a small holding room. Through the window in the door, Liam studied the man inside. His face was haggard, his features uneven with exhaustion. He paced restlessly, his movements betraying a deep anxiety.
From his expression and demeanor alone, he didn't look like a penitent criminal who had come to confess out of guilt.
Liam's frown deepened. Could Christopher Martin's suspicions be correct? Was this more than a simple accident—was there a hidden purpose behind it all?
"Open the door." Liam's voice was flat, unreadable.
"Right away." The Minister rushed forward eagerly, pulling a heavy ring of keys from his waist. He selected one, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. "Mr. Williams, please."
Liam stepped inside and glanced back at the Minister. "Close the door. No one enters."
The Minister hesitated for a moment. Technically, this violated protocol. But this was Liam Williams—the same man who could storm a police station without consequences. His small Ministry of Transportation was nothing in comparison.
He nodded, pulled the door shut, and retreated.
The troublemaker looked up as Liam entered. He'd seen the Minister's fawning attitude toward this man. He didn't need to examine his expensive suit to know he was someone important—someone dangerous.
The man's face went pale. He'd only been paid to hit a woman with his car. Now the top brass was involved? Had he stumbled into something far bigger than he'd imagined?
"Mr. Williams, please let me go! I didn't mean to hit that woman!" The man scrambled forward, grabbing at Liam's pant leg, his face twisted with panic.
Liam studied him coldly. The man's terror seemed genuine—too genuine to be an act. But if he was this afraid, why had he run away only to turn himself in again?
There had to be more to the story.
"Sit down. Explain yourself, and I won't make things difficult for you." Liam pried the man's fingers from his trousers, pulled a tissue from his pocket, and wiped his hands leisurely. He snorted, then walked past the man to sit in the chair behind the interrogation table.
Seeing that Liam hadn't struck him, the man dared to hope for leniency. He let out a shaky breath and returned to his seat.
"Mr. Williams, I swear I didn't mean to do it!" the troublemaker repeated, his voice trembling.
"But I think..." Liam leaned back, crossing his arms as he fixed his gaze on the man. "I think you did it on purpose."
What?
The man's eyes flew wide open. Shock and disbelief flickered across his face, but beneath them, panic was unmistakable.
"I..." The man's hands clenched into fists on his thighs.
Confess and hope for mercy? No. If he admitted he'd intentionally hit someone, the sentence wouldn't be a joke. And he'd already fled once—that would only make things worse.
Besides, his wife and children were still in someone else's hands. If he didn't cooperate, their lives would be in danger. That was the only reason he'd agreed to turn himself in.
The more the man thought about it, the more he regretted ever getting involved. He'd been greedy, tempted by the money, and now he was trapped in a mess he couldn't escape. He was like a clay Buddha trying to cross a river—barely able to save himself.
Tears and snot streamed down his face as he collapsed onto the table, clutching his head. "Mr. Williams, it's all my fault. I've turned myself in. Just take me to court and be done with it."
Liam didn't respond. He simply watched the man with hawk-like eyes.
Men didn't cry like this unless they were truly broken.
The panic, the desperation, the sobbing confession—combined with his earlier escape and sudden surrender, there could only be one explanation. Someone had threatened him.
"Your wife and children..." Liam said slowly, deliberately provoking a reaction.
The man's head snapped up immediately. "My wife and children have nothing to do with this! I did everything on my own!"
He shot to his feet, slamming his hands on the table as he glared at Liam.
Such a violent reaction. He'd done it all on his own—he'd repeated it over and over, his emotions spiraling out of control. There was no point trying to reason with him like this.
Liam had studied criminal psychology during his time in the military. He could see through this little act in an instant.
"Since you refuse to be honest, I can't help you." Liam stood up and waved toward the Minister outside, signaling his intention to leave.
The troublemaker thought the interrogation was over. He let out a quiet breath of relief.
But Liam paused at the door, a cold smirk curling his lips. He raised his voice deliberately. "Inform the police that this is no ordinary traffic accident. I suspect attempted murder. And since he won't tell the truth, I'm guessing his wife and children know something. Send someone to bring them in for questioning!"
"No!" The man lunged forward, grabbing at Liam.
Liam spun around and seized the man by the collar. "Talk! Who ordered you to do this? Or do you want your wife and children to suffer?"
The man's resistance crumbled. He shook his head weakly. "Fine, I'll... I'll tell you..."
Just as he was about to speak, the door burst open.
"Why did you hit my cousin, you bastard!"
Isabella Miller stormed into the room, her face twisted with fury. She shoved the troublemaker hard, sending him stumbling backward.