Rebirth of a Flopped Actress: Career First, Love Second (My Billionaire Son)

Chapter 392 You’re the Prime Suspect

+8 Pearls

The stench was so foul that Paul, still full from the soup noodle feast, nearly vomited. Brody immediately took a sample of the fluid for testing. The results, however, left him baffled.

“What’s happening to Liliana’s face?” Elowen asked anxiously.

Brody, “The lab results suggest it’s chickenpox.”

But the results didn’t make sense. Liliana’s symptoms looked nothing like ordinary chickenpox.

How could it spread so quickly? And… why did it stink so badly?

In truth, Liliana’s condition was even worse than Brody initially thought.

Over the next few days, Brody witnessed her facial wounds rot at an alarming speed, only for new flesh to grow back just as quickly. The alternating pain of rotting flesh and the itch of regenerating skin was a relentless forment.

Every day, Liliana watched her once–beautiful face turn into a grotesque, bloody mess, only to have it regrow into fresh skin, before starting to decay all over again.

reality. Brody and the Kenneth family’s top doctors held multiple consultations but

facial tissue cycled between destruction and regeneration, yet the

when the next patch of skin would suddenly begin to

concerned, linked her condition to the attack in the parking garage. They reviewed

their dismay, the footage had been deliberately destroyed before the incident. Even the stick used in the attack only had Amelia’s fingerprints, with no evidence pointing to the

Liliana knew better than anyone else. The person who attacked me that day was Olivia!

flesh fall off, Liliana’s hatred for Olivia burned hotter than

fists, her fury threatening to consume

was Olivia, nor could she allow them to learn about Olivia’s existence.

revenge, I vowed

filled with malice, Liliana reached for the phone beside her bed and made

that afternoon, Olivia was invited to the police station on

gold–rimmed glasses stood in the station, looking down at Olivia as she sat calmly in her chair. His tone was cold and accusatory.

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Jan

You’re the

Carter,” he began, “where were you around 10 a.m.