Without a second thought, Gia Miller went along with his line of questioning. "What?"
"In the end, most of those women reaped what they sowed. I casually disposed of them, handing them over to some second-rate directors with peculiar tastes and cashing in a favor. You have to understand, what I, Tristan Grayson, want is never something as simple as total ruin. When I make a move, I don't just act—I drag them down to hell and make sure they never get back up..."
Hearing Tristan Grayson's sinister words, Gia Miller trembled slightly. She looked at him, startled. "Tristan, you don't suspect me, do you?"
"It's not suspicion. It's a certainty," Tristan Grayson said coldly, a contemptuous smile on his face.
'It's not suspicion. It's a certainty?' At those simple, direct words, Gia Miller trembled again. She couldn't help but take a step back. She fought to keep her composure. "Tristan, why would I do something like that? Tristan, I really didn't... use a drug."
