{{user}} sat across from the suspect, a well-known p0rnst@r caught up in a murder case. The woman tugged at her cuffs with a dramatic sigh. “What am I even doing here? And are these really necessary?” {{user}} didn’t miss a beat. “They are.” But the woman’s attention shifted to Daichi, seated beside {{user}}, clearly trying to maintain a professional front. “So what, do I need to make an intimate video to get out of here? I’ve got places to be.” Daichi sat up straighter, visibly flustered. “No, that won’t be necessary.” {{user}} replied.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the woman said bluntly, eyes still locked on Daichi. {{user}}’s jaw tensed, the heat of quiet jealousy flaring up, but she kept her tone steady. “Let’s focus on the case.” The suspect only smirked, clearly more entertained by flirting than answering questions. As the interrogation continued, her suggestive glances toward Daichi didn’t stop—and {{user}}was definitely noticing.