Upon hearing the phone ring, Dean let Harry off the hook, stretched languidly, and walked over to Daisy’s partitioned office cubicle. Inside, Daisy had already hung up the phone, her face etched with sadness. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs novel※fire.net "Daisy, what’s wrong?" Dean asked, his expression puzzled upon seeing hers. He was sure Daisy had answered the emergency call transfer line. But why did she have such an expression after hanging up? "Johnny Dennison is dead!" Daisy picked up a book from her desk, her voice filled with sorrow. "He was my favorite author, but the operator just said his nanny found him dead in the kitchen." Dean took a clear look and realized the full title of the book was "Me and My Lace Lover." Well, well. So he was an author who wrote Lara novels. No wonder Daisy, a Lara herself, liked him. But here’s the thing. Johnny Dennison was definitely a man’s name! "Dean, can you take me to the scene this time?" Daisy approached. Before Dean could refuse, she had already grasped his arm, pressing it snugly against her chest and shaking it coquettishly, like a daughter pleading with her father. She was a clerk. This wasn’t according to protocol. But Dean was a man who couldn’t resist softness. The pressure from her ’peaks’ was simply too much to withstand. He had no choice. "Alright, Harry still owes me a self-criticism report. If you want to help out of concern for a colleague’s time, that makes sense. Harry should agree to cover for you," he said. With that, Dean winked at Daisy. Daisy giggled at Dean’s shameless words, her laughter setting her ’mountainous region’ aquiver. While Dean squinted his eyes in enjoyment, he also felt a pang of regret. Such a great girl, why did she have to be a Lara? When Harry found out he was on duty, his face showed clear reluctance. On one hand, there was the self-criticism report; on the other, an interesting case. Even a fool would know which to choose. But faced with Dean’s threatening gaze and Daisy’s fists, itching to move, he could only watch as the three of them abandoned him, leaving him alone to guard the empty office. The crime scene was in a wealthy neighborhood. Carlo was driving. Dean and Daisy sat in the backseat, chatting about the victim. The victim, Johnny Dennison, was a bestselling author very popular with female readers. Most of his works were novels aimed at a female audience. According to Daisy, a fan herself, though Johnny Dennison was an average-looking man, he understood women’s psychology profoundly. His writing easily struck a chord with female readers, which made him very popular among them. If he hadn’t married early, he could have had a new bride every day. Yet, apart from one divorce, Johnny Dennison had no scandalous news attached to his name. This was partly because he didn’t appear in public very often. But in the eyes of his fans, Johnny Dennison was still a talented, wealthy, and devoted man. As Daisy said this, a look of regret crossed her delicate face. "I once heard a rumor that Johnny Dennison remarried a Lara to find inspiration for his writing. He supposedly financed his wife’s pleasures, all to thoroughly understand the Lara world." Spending her husband’s money without a shred of guilt, living her days with her female companion. To Daisy, this was the life she dreamt of. Too bad she hadn’t found such an easy mark yet. With this thought, Daisy glanced at Dean next to her. Dean seemed to be quite wealthy too. But no sooner had this thought arisen than she quashed it instantly. Dean wouldn’t do at all! With him, whether she could get the money was one thing, but being taken to the cleaners was a certainty. That bastard might even steal her female companion! That was intolerable! "What are you thinking about?" Dean, noticing Daisy had fallen into a daze after speaking, interrupted her wild thoughts. Little did he know, Daisy snapped back to reality and glared at Dean. "Don’t you dare cuck me!" He possessed an L3 professional-level Mind Reading Technique and advanced ’educational training.’ He was ostensibly able to discern a woman’s thoughts just by her fragrance. But in this moment, he utterly failed to penetrate Daisy’s little mind to figure out what on earth she was thinking. One could only say that the thought processes of women were probably only clear to the god who created them. The car began to slow down. The driver, Carlo, with his bushy eyebrows and big eyes, couldn’t help but glance at the rearview mirror, his eyes wide with curiosity, eager for gossip. He had long suspected that Daisy and the boss, Dean, were having an affair! Today, it was finally confirmed! What greeted him, however, was Dean’s annoyed glare. Carlo shuddered and quickly stepped on the gas, accelerating towards the crime scene. Due to its geographical location, the forensics team hadn’t arrived by the time Dean got there. Currently, only a few patrol officers who had arrived recently had cordoned off the scene. Dean, accompanied by Daisy and Carlo, stepped forward to get an update. After some inquiries, they learned that the person who reported the crime, named Teresa, was the nanny for the bestselling author Johnny Dennison. She had found the deceased in the kitchen upon returning from grocery shopping and had immediately called the police. Besides Teresa, the deceased’s son was also at home. When the police arrived, he was still in his room listening to rock music, completely unaware of what had transpired outside. "Johnny Dennison has a son?" Dean turned to look at Daisy. Daisy nodded. "Yes, I think he’s the child from his first marriage. He should be seventeen this year." "You know this too?" Carlo, standing nearby, was somewhat astonished. Looks like Daisy really is a die-hard fan of Johnny Dennison, he thought. Daisy rolled her eyes. "Johnny Dennison once wrote a book dedicated to mothers, commemorating his son’s birth. That’s why many of his readers know he was very fond of his son." "Alright, let’s go in and take a look!" Dean cut off their conversation. After donning gloves and shoe covers, he led the way into the house. Johnny Dennison was a bestselling author. In the United States Federation, copyright awareness is particularly strong. Consequently, substantial royalties, copyright fees, and various film and television adaptation fees provided Johnny Dennison with a considerable income. Therefore, his mansion was impressive in terms of location, space, and decor. Upon entering, one saw a vast living room connected to a dining area and a bar. To the side, a diverging staircase with dual access points and a private elevator were visible. The entrance to a separate kitchen was at the far end of one’s line of sight. Most mansions in the United States feature open-plan kitchens. This particular layout, however, was less common. Dean was observing the structure of the house. Daisy and Carlo, however, had their gazes immediately drawn to a figure on the sofa upon entering. She was a blonde woman with an exquisite figure and a face that resembled a Barbie doll. Her face bore a look of sorrow; she was staring blankly at the coffee table. Her melancholic and uneasy expression was enough to break the heart and arouse pity in any normal man... hmm, and any normal Lara, too. To be precise, in the Lara community, this woman’s appearance was a trump card. One only needed to see Daisy secretly swallowing to understand. No Lara could resist the temptation of a real-life Barbie doll. As for Carlo’s reaction, it was simple male lust. Beside the Barbie-doll-like woman sat a young man whose face still held a trace of youthful innocence. The young man appeared indifferent, fiddling with a toy soldier. He exuded an aura of ’keep out,’ seemingly unconcerned with anything around him. These two must be the nanny, Teresa, and Johnny Dennison’s son, Dean thought. Teresa, startled by the movement like a frightened deer, timidly glanced toward the door. Seeing unfamiliar faces, she quickly lowered her head again. The young man, however, didn’t even glance in their direction. Dean observed their reactions, a slight smile playing on his lips. Interesting. The nanny’s reaction is fairly normal. But the son... his indifference is too pronounced. Could it be their father-son relationship wasn’t good? He turned to Carlo. "You two go talk to them and get some information. I’ll check the kitchen!" With that, Dean strode towards the kitchen where the deceased lay.