My Assistant Cried Rape And Named My Husband — But My Husband Is A Robot Chapter 06
The detective glanced at the screen and answered.
He listened for maybe twenty seconds. His expression shifted, degree by degree.
After he hung up, the way he looked at Chloe had completely changed.
“The DNA results are back.” His voice was cold. “The fluid recovered from her body has been cross-referenced against the national DNA database. It matches one Kyle Brennan, a male with a prior criminal record.”
“Priors: second-degree assault, grand larceny, possession with intent to distribute. Paroled from prison last month.”
The room hung still for half a beat.
The blood drained from Chloe’s face like she’d been slapped.
Her mouth opened, then her voice came out much smaller than before.
“I… I don’t know any Kyle…”
I stared at her.
Kyle Brennan. I’d heard the name before. More than heard it.
I remembered clearly—Chloe had once made a video call in my car. Whoever was on the other end had called her “babe,” so loudly I could hear him plain as day from a seat over.
After she hung up, I’d asked casually who it was.
She said an ex-boyfriend.
“Still bothering you?” I’d asked.
“Broke up ages ago. Such a pain,” she’d said.
The detective had already dispatched the tech team to pull the exterior surveillance footage around my building.
The facial recognition system ran for under five minutes before it kicked back a hit.
At eleven-oh-three on the night in question, a man had climbed the fence at the east-side service gate of my complex.
Match: Kyle Brennan. Confidence level 98.7 percent.
The subject walked directly toward the blind-corner shrubbery. The timeline lined up seamlessly with the footage of Chloe being dragged.
Chloe started shaking.
She was still fighting. “Even if it was Kyle… he still assaulted me! I’m the victim!”
The detective cut her off.
“Chloe, we’ve already obtained a warrant to remotely lock Kyle Brennan’s phone. Your call logs, text messages, and social media DMs from the past month are being lawfully retrieved as we speak.”
Her whole body stiffened, visibly.
Sure enough, forty minutes later, the cybercrime unit sent over the complete chat logs.
Chloe and Kyle’s conversation history filled the screen, dense, near-daily.
Voice notes. Videos. Late-night messages so intimate they left no ambiguity.
Meanwhile, the officer investigating Kyle’s recent movements had unearthed something else.
“Detective, we pulled credit card records—three days before the incident, Kyle and Chloe checked into a cheap motel downtown, together! They never broke up!”
Every gaze in the room shifted toward Chloe. The look in every eye had changed.
Chloe slumped in her chair. She couldn’t say a word.
Her mother, Diane, went pale as paper and took a quiet step back.
The detective slapped the printed chat logs down on the table. His voice was arctic.
“Chloe Whitmore, based on the evidence currently in our possession, you are suspected of conspiring with Kyle Brennan to file a false police report, make a false accusation of sexual assault, and attempted first-degree extortion.”
Chloe suddenly let out a howl, eyes bloodshot, and jabbed her finger at me—
“It was Vivian! She’s the one who drove me to and from work every day! She deliberately put me in front of that building! She created the opportunity for Kyle! She’s the accomplice!”
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