The Fake Son Is A Billionaire Young Master

Please do not look any farther

Jeff strode into the cafe, his presence commanding attention. He spotted the person waiting for him, Detective Harris, a man with a hardened expression and a furrowed brow.

Jeff's eyes narrowed, his gaze like a hawk's, as he made his way toward the detective's table.

"Why is the case suddenly closed?" Jeff asked, not even bothering with a greeting. His voice was like a sharp blade, cutting through the air.

With a deliberate sip of his coffee, Detective Harris avoided looking at Jeff during their intense stare-down. He cleared his throat, his voice gruff and strained. "Jeff, I wanted to give you a call yesterday. The case was transferred to someone else."

Jeff's eyebrows knitted together, his forehead creased in a frown. "What do you mean someone else? Aren't you doing your job?"

A cold look flashed in Detective Harris's eyes, his jaw clenching. "The higher-ups asked us to retreat from the case. All I know is that it's been closed, even without a proper investigation."

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