Wedding Canceled: I'm a Murder Suspect

Everyone around the dinner table was dead, their eyes wide and staring. Blood streamed out of every orifice on their faces.

I sat there calmly, allowing the policemen that Vivian Larson had summoned to surround me.

Vivian's eyes were bulging out of her head, and she rushed up to slap me over a dozen times in the face. She demanded to know why I had done it.

I was flung to the ground, and I remained silent as I endured her kicks and punches.

I didn't even bother to answer the barrage of questions that the police threw at me.

I was detained for three months. A steady stream of policemen, lawyers, and prosecutors took turns to alternatively cajole and threaten me, but I was unmoved.

The case ground to a halt because of me, and Vivian could no longer stand it. She obtained permission from the Chief of Police to visit me in prison.

"Asville Hospital has recently developed a new serum that can reconstruct memories from witnesses' brain waves. However, the process is extremely painful. Once the memories have been completely extracted, the brain waves will fade, and you'll be brain-dead.

"Damon, why did you kill my entire family? You didn't even show mercy to your own sister!"

I looked at Vivian, whom I had not seen for a very long time. There was no longer any trace of love for me in her eyes. All that was left was a deep-seated hatred of me.

My heart ached relentlessly, but I remained expressionless. "You should go. I won't tell you anything."

Vivian slammed her hand on the table, looking beside herself with fury. She hurled her phone at the glass, and it crashed against it with a loud bang.

"Damon Larson, do you have a death wish?"

Even the policemen who were standing guard over me looked at me with revulsion. "I have never seen anyone as vicious as you."

Vivian received permission from the chief and got about a dozen police officers to escort me personally to the hospital.

Only hardened criminals received treatment like that.

I walked out of the police station's main doors with a hood pulled over my head, but reporters surged toward me from all directions. I was surrounded by them, as well as eager passersby.

There was a group of agitated people who claimed to have once received financial assistance from Callum Larson and his wife, Rhiannon Carlton. They looked as if they wanted nothing more than to skin me alive.

They lunged toward me abruptly and tore off my hood. The piercing sunlight made me squint, and I was pelted with over a dozen stones.

"You murderer! I'm going to show everyone your true colors today!"

I turned and saw countless flashes going off as cameras clicked furiously. They seemed bent on capturing every detail, even down to the hairs on my face.

"Mister, why did you repay the Larsons' kindness with cruelty, especially when they adopted you? You killed them and your own sister!"

"Were you after the Larsons' fortune? Did you concoct this plan because you wanted to take the money for yourself?"

"Do you have a lover out there? Did the two of you plot together to kill for money?"

Their sharp questions filled my ears, but I gazed impassively at the crowd, as if I couldn't hear them.

The crowd was triggered by my attitude. Some of them began reaching for their phones, bags, umbrellas, and anything they could get their hands on so that they could throw it at me.

I was hit in the head, and blood gushed out at once. I doubled over in pain.

The chief was afraid that things would get out of hand, so he ordered the rest of the police escort to block the reporters and the crowd from seeing me.

He cleared his throat. "Don't worry, everyone. I'll make sure to give you an explanation for this shocking murder."

The hood was pulled over my head again, and I was brought to the hospital.

I was tied to a chair, and the doctor was prepared to inject me with the serum. Right before the needle pierced my skin, Vivian suddenly grabbed the doctor's wrist.

Her eyes were bloodshot, and there was a greenish tinge to the bags under her eyes. Her hair was tousled as she stared straight at me. "Damon, I'm going to give you one last chance. If you're honest, you won't have to—"

Before she could finish speaking, I closed my eyes.

Vivian's pupils contracted, but she nodded at the doctor, looking as if she had finally made up her mind.

The ice-cold serum was injected into my body, and in just a moment, every single nerve in my body felt like it was on fire.

I broke out in a cold sweat from the pain and struggled desperately against my restraints.

Vivian didn't seem to see how much pain I was in. When images finally appeared on the screen behind me, she asked in a trembling voice, "Why did you kill my parents and your younger sister?"

The memories in my brain were being broadcast live to the public in order to assuage their wrath.

I closed my eyes, and I could no longer hold back the tears that slipped down my cheeks.