Chapter 385 Oliver's Methods
Oliver disregarded Mrs. Watson's remarks and, after she finished speaking, asked indifferently, "Who gave you these instructions?"
Upon hearing Oliver's question, Mrs. Watson, who initially wanted to threaten Oliver, suddenly stopped and looked up in astonishment.
Oliver’s eyes glinted coldly.
"What do you mean? Who instructed me?" Mrs. Watson persisted stubbornly.
Oliver had anticipated that she would not confess. He realized that this woman possessed more intelligence than her daughter. Therefore, he knew he had to adopt a different strategy.
"So you’re not going to speak?"
Oliver did not wish to waste words and glanced at Jamie meaningfully.
Jamie understood the signal and nodded, then gestured to the bodyguards.
"What... What are you doing? What do you want to do?"
As the bodyguards supported Mrs. Watson and led her toward the lake's edge, she struggled desperately as she shouted, “Oliver, you can’t do this! A crime is a crime! No matter how powerful or influential one might be, you’re not above the law! You can’t kill me! Let me tell you; I’ve made preparations! If I die here today, both you and that b*tch will be labeled as murderers. You’ll face the consequences for the deaths of both me and my daughter!"
Oliver looked at her; his face was devoid of any emotion.
"Kill you?" Jamie let out a laugh. "You overestimate your importance. What would be the purpose of killing you? Death ends all. Just like your daughter, sometimes it is more frightening to be alive."
Fear filled Mrs. Watson's eyes.
At Jamie's command, the bodyguards forcefully kicked the back of Mrs. Watson's knees. She screamed miserably as her knees buckled, and a powerful force pushed the back of her head down.
Mrs. Watson's head was submerged in the water, her struggles becoming frantic.
The area fell silent, punctuated only by the sounds of Mrs. Watson's desperate attempts to breathe, each gasp bubbling through the water.
Eventually, Mrs. Watson's movements began to weaken, until it appeared she was no longer moving.
Jamie seized Mrs. Watson by her hair and hoisted her up.
Mrs. Watson fell to the ground weakly as she coughed violently, attempting to clear her airway of water. Each cough brought intense pain to her lungs. Her complexion turned ghostly as she struggled back from the edge of death, her eyes filled with fear, a stark contrast to her usual dignified and arrogant appearance.
Jamie gazed down at her arrogantly as he asked, “How does it feel? Aren’t you glad your daughter passed away without suffering?”
The sensation of drowning, the overwhelming influx of water, the struggle for air, and the infiltration into the lungs - it was a harrowing experience.
The terror of facing death, the physical torment, and the deep-seated anguish.
This approach was Oliver's method.
‘Could this man really commit such a heinous act?’
"Are you going to speak now?" Oliver asked icily.
"Heh! What is there to say?" Mrs. Watson retorted with a sneer, interspersed with coughs, "As I’ve mentioned, I don’t understand what you’re saying. Natalie doesn’t look like anyone in the Watson family. Isn’t it normal for me to doubt her origin? What are you trying to do? Are you trying to drag others down through me to avenge that b*tch? Let me tell you, you won’t succeed!”
Jamie chuckled, "It seems the foolishness runs in the family."
Mrs. Watson tried to feign calmness as she said, “I… It was all my suspicion. I guessed it. I…”
"What a pity, your hesitation might as well be an admission," Jamie remarked.
Mrs. Watson's expression turned sour immediately.
Jamie shrugged and said, “It’s clear that you’re just as stupid as your daughter.”
Jamie had a knack for targeting people's vulnerabilities.
Mrs. Watson's affection for her daughter was her greatest weakness. Having dedicated the latter part of her life to Hailey, her daughter continued to be a source of profound vulnerability even in death.
There was no need for sympathy for vicious people.
As Mrs. Watson persisted in her defiance, Oliver signaled to Jamie.
Jamie then forcibly submerged Mrs. Watson's head underwater once more.
Emerging a second time, Mrs. Watson was on the verge of unconsciousness, but she still glared at Oliver as though she wanted to skin him alive.
Then came the third submersion.
Gasping and wracked with pain, Mrs. Watson pleaded, "I'll speak! I’ll speak!"
"I thought you’d hold out longer than this. It would’ve been better if you’d just cooperated from the start,” Jamie said, escorting a weakened Mrs. Watson to Oliver.
Subjected to near-drowning repeatedly, yet never meeting death. Confronted with mortality time after time, lingering at death's door, but always remaining just out of its grasp. This constant brush with death brought a fear that overshadowed the physical pain.
It was only in the face of death that many realized they were as vulnerable as anyone else and were fearful of death. The fundamental instinct was to cling to life.
Overwhelmed by weakness and fear, Mrs. Watson found herself subdued, her spirit crushed under the weight of her terror, rendering her incapable of even raising her head. Her gaze was fixed on Jamie's polished shoes, now speckled with droplets of water.
"Somebody told me about it," Mrs. Watson began, her voice weak, "They said that b*tch isn’t related to the Watson family and provided a DNA test report as evidence."
"Who?" Oliver pressed.
"I don’t know. They didn’t reveal their identity. They used a voice modifier during the call, making it impossible to discern whether they were male or female, but it was clear they hated that b*tch."
‘Just like me…’ Mrs. Watson added silently.
"How did you come into possession of the DNA test?" Oliver continued his questioning.
"It was mailed to me," she replied.
Realizing he could extract no further useful information, Oliver decided to wrap up the interrogation.
"Earlier, you kept using the word b*tch. How many times did you use that word?”
"I... I don’t remember," Mrs. Watson stammered, the fear of impending consequences palpable in her voice.
‘Who would count their words?’
Oliver let out a laugh.
"J-just once?"
Mrs. Watson tried to read Oliver's expression but found herself unable to interpret any emotion from him.
She ventured a guess, "Twice? Was it only twice?"
Mrs. Watson's anxiety intensified, and she trembled.
"She definitely said it more than that,” Jamie said.
"No! No, no.."
Mrs. Watson vehemently shook her head, dreading the thought of enduring that unbearable torture once more. She would rather die than go through it again.
"Please let me die! Just kill me! I can’t take this anymore!”
She was now terrified of everyone around her.
Jamie responded with a chuckle, "It’s against the law to kill someone? How could we possibly kill you? Don’t worry. If you have any health issues after this, we have a doctor ready to assist.”
Mrs. Watson's sanity was hanging by a thread.
The rumors were indeed true.
Oliver was a monster. A true embodiment of evil.
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