The CEO's Substitute Ex-Wife-Chapter 517: The interrogation

Wen Nuan retorted, "You illegally detained me to investigate crimes, which has nothing to do with my marriage. I have no comment."

"Your ex-husband is the Dark Master of the Dragon Gate, did you know that?"

"What Dragon Gate?" Wen Nuan asked blankly. She was an actress; she could make any expression she wanted, very professionally. It seemed the Federation’s information was very comprehensive. There were no secrets in this world, only publicly known secrets.

They had their reasons for not speaking.

The refined man smiled, his attitude extremely gentle, "Perhaps we should ask him to come and question you. After all, he knows you best. Maybe he can give us some clues, what do you say?"

Wen Nuan was furious. Damn them, they actually used Ye Feimo to threaten her.

She couldn’t take the bait, she couldn’t take the bait. She couldn’t harm Wushuang, absolutely not.

Otherwise, she would be even more sorry to the Ye family.

"I’m divorced from him. His affairs have nothing to do with me. What does my sick, dying ex-husband have to do with me? If you want to invite him, do it quickly. Maybe he really knows something. Ask him to release me." Wen Nuan said coldly, her tone ruthless and sharp.

The refined-looking man frowned, his eyes narrowing sharply in a similarly cold manner.

Will and Daniel exchanged a glance, both leaning back, seemingly exasperated by Wen Nuan’s reaction. Will said in a low voice, "Girl, if you continue to waste our time like this, it won’t do either of us any good."

"I don’t want to waste each other’s time either. You’re wasting my time too. Perhaps this person just happens to be a fan of mine, and happens to be interested in my birthmark, so she specifically researched and got one tattooed. I’m quite famous in China, and somewhat well-known internationally. Some fans are very fanatical about their idols; they’ll do anything. Imitating clothing styles, walking styles, voices—it’s not strange at all. Imitating a tattoo is even less surprising. You can investigate in this direction; perhaps you’ll find some clues." Wen Nuan said calmly, displaying composure and wit in the face of FBI questioning.

But sometimes, even composure and wit can’t help her.

Interpol had been tracking Wu Shuang for many years without any leads, and had no choice but to hand the case over to the FBI. If the FBI also couldn’t find anything, they wouldn’t be able to withstand the pressure, so they didn’t want to let go of the lead they had finally obtained.

Even if this clue was just their deduction, without any supporting evidence, they would cling to it relentlessly.

"Since that’s the case, then don’t blame us for being ruthless and giving her a taste of her own medicine," Will said in a deep voice. Several detectives behind him stepped forward, grabbed Wen Nuan, and dragged

her backward. Wen Nuan asked anxiously, "What are you doing? Let me go, let me go..." Wen Nuan, chair and all, was dragged to the center. One of the men deftly chained her neck, while another man cranked the armrest, hoisting Wen Nuan and her chair up...

The chain was so tight that Wen Nuan couldn’t breathe; it hurt so much. She was suspended vertically from the ceiling, unable to breathe. Due to lack of oxygen, her head throbbed with intense pain and dizziness, and her face turned blue. The chain was tightly wrapped around her neck, cold against her skin, threatening to kill her.

So painful...

so painful... She wanted to cry for help, but her voice was stuck in her throat, unable to utter a single word.

Darkness gradually enveloped her. Suddenly, the man released the armrest, and Wen Nuan, chair and all, tumbled to the center. The chains loosened, and she leaned weakly against the chair, her head throbbing with excruciating pain, as if someone were hacking at her bones with a steel knife. She clutched her neck, coughing incessantly...

Air slowly filled the room, bringing her some relief.

Will asked, "Do you know her?"

Wen Nuan leaned weakly, her lips pressed together, her face deathly pale. Did she know her?

What difference did it make?

Could she escape?

"No... I don’t know her!" she uttered haltingly, completely enraging them. Daniel gave a signal, and the man wrapped the chains around Wen Nuan’s neck again. She tried to pry them off, but they were forcefully twisted, her bones nearly breaking. Wen Nuan screamed in agony, and before she could react, she was hoisted back up.

Repeatedly five times, nearly killing Wen Nuan, the fifth time she was hoisted up and thrown down, Wen Nuan coughed up blood, staining her chest. Will asked again, "Do you know her?"

Her consciousness was blurred, and she struggled to speak, yet she uttered three words coldly and clearly, "No... I don’t know her."

Next, besides being suspended by iron chains, her face was covered with a black cloth and splashed with cold water. The lack of oxygen gradually thinned her consciousness, making it drift away. Wen Nuan hovered on the edge of death, struggling desperately.

The interrogation was so harsh and cruel. She struggled to maintain consciousness, refusing to say anything she would regret later, preferring to be tortured rather than betray her conscience. She had always been afraid of pain, but this time she unexpectedly endured it.

She fainted, was splashed awake, fainted again, and was splashed awake again.

Daniel repeated the questions, asking if she knew the person in the photo, but Wen Nuan remained silent; she could no longer speak.

The refined-looking man narrowed his eyes. Will and Daniel looked over, and he shrugged. Just then, his phone rang. Will answered it, said a few words, glanced at Wen Nuan, his expression slightly changing. He hung up the phone rather unfriendly. Wen Nuan was already unconscious in the iron chair, her breath weak, her long hair wet and plastered to her cheeks and chest, mixed with blood, looking utterly wretched.

Will sneered, "An artist, quite the influence. Someone from higher up called personally, forbidding any torture, or she’ll face the consequences."

"Who called?"

"It was someone from above. They’re under pressure from different government departments and can’t hold on any longer. They forbid us from harming the prisoner. What influence does a mere artist have to warrant so many people being mobilized? There must be something wrong." Will said coldly.

"There’s definitely something fishy going on. She must know something." Daniel said confidently.

Will looked at the unconscious Wen Nuan and spread his hands, asking, "What do we do?"

The two of them simultaneously looked at the refined-looking man leaning against the side, seeking his opinion. Government departments have checks and balances, and they couldn’t immediately grasp the situation. If they continued the interrogation, Wen Nuan definitely wouldn’t be able to hold on.

"If she dies, who will be responsible?"

the refined-looking man said. "Let’s go upstairs first."

The group left Wen Nuan in the basement. Under the bright lights, Wen Nuan’s face was covered in blood, her body was soaked, and there were bloody marks on her waist and wrists. Salt water seeped into her skin, and even in her unconscious state, her brows were furrowed in pain.

In the basement, only the sound of dripping water could be heard.