Claire was still lost in thought when the office door opened and Dr. Murphy Peterson stepped in.
"So," he said, settling into his chair and glancing at the three of them, "which newspaper did you say you were from?"
For a second, Claire and Stephnie froze, unsure what to say. Then Lily quickly stepped in.
"Actually, we're not from any newspaper," she said smoothly. "We run an online magazine. We're currently covering a feature on young entrepreneurs — and one of our contacts mentioned your name. That's why we're here for a short interview."
Murphy arched an eyebrow. "Three people to interview one doctor?"
Stephnie smiled politely. "Well, Lily's our videographer, Claire's the anchor, and I handle the notes and transcripts. We always work as a team. But if this isn't a good time, we can always come back another day."
Murphy's sharp eyes softened a little. "No, that's fine," he said. "I'll give you the interview. But one thing — keep your questions strictly professional. I don't discuss my personal life with anyone."
He pressed the small bell on his desk, and within seconds a peon entered. "Three cold coffees and a soda," Murphy ordered, without looking up.
The interview began with a calm rhythm. Claire started with the easy questions — education, training, medical specialization, years of experience — keeping her tone light, almost casual. Murphy answered each one with measured confidence, and soon, the air in the room felt relaxed.
Everything had been progressing smoothly up to this point, and Murphy, too, had developed a trust in the three girls. As a result, he was answering all of Claire's questions without the slightest hesitation. Midway through the interview, Lily noticed that Murphy was staring at her in a very peculiar manner, specifically at her legs, as she was currently wearing a rather short skirt, leaving the greater part of her legs visible. Lily considered it a perfect opportunity, thinking, 'Why not flirt with Murphy a little and extract more information?' With this thought, Lily crossed her legs in such a way that Murphy caught a glimpse of the red net panties she wore beneath her skirt. Now, Murphy was simply gazing at Lily with lustful eyes, as if he would strip her clothes off and engage in physical relations with her that very instant, given the chance. Stephanie and Claire had by now fully comprehended the situation, but they understood that Lily was attempting to gain information by flirting with Murphy.
A few minutes later, when Murphy seemed completely at ease, Claire changed her tone."Dr. Peterson," she said, "is it true that several years ago your hospital was accused of organ trafficking?"
The shift in Murphy's expression was immediate — calm composure replaced by a flash of anger. His jaw tightened as he stared at her.
"Yes, Claire," he said finally, his voice cool but clipped. "There was a journalist — someone like you — named Marry Thomas. She got the wrong idea about some of our research procedures and published a defamatory piece. But she later admitted her mistake, issued a public apology, and the matter was closed."
Claire didn't blink. "Did she apologize of her own will, or under pressure from your… 'influence' and resources?"
For a brief, electric moment, the room went silent. Even the air conditioner's hum felt too loud. Murphy's eyes locked on hers — dark, unreadable.
Before he could respond, Claire leaned forward slightly."I've also heard," she said steadily, "that you were married once. Your wife filed for divorce a few months before her… sudden accident. Records show she was admitted right here, in this hospital. Would you like to comment on that?"
Murphy's fingers stilled on the desk. His eyes didn't move — but something in his face did. A flicker. A shadow.
Stephnie could feel the tension rising. Lily exchanged a quick glance with Claire. The interview had just crossed the line between curiosity and danger — and they all knew it.
Murphy's expression changed the moment Claire's question hit the air.His calm façade cracked into irritation as he leaned forward, his voice rising slightly.
"I told you earlier," he said sharply, "I only answer questions related to my professional life. My personal affairs are none of your concern."
The tension in the room thickened.Sensing it, Lily quickly stepped in — shifting the conversation back to neutral ground.
"So, Doctor," she said lightly, "tell us a bit about your college days. What inspired you to become a surgeon?"
Her tone was casual, meant to defuse the heat.Murphy relaxed a little, and Claire used the pause to gather herself. She now understood one thing clearly — Murphy wasn't going to reveal anything easily. He was intelligent, composed, and had power on his side.Pushing him too far could mean losing their only lead… or worse, making a dangerous enemy.
So Claire changed her strategy. She smiled faintly and began talking about the hospital's charitable programs, steering the discussion into safer territory.After a few minutes, she gently asked, "And your father, Mr. George Peterson? Does he still work with the hospital?"
Murphy nodded, his tone neutral again."My father isn't keeping well these days," he said. "He prefers to stay at home now. Doesn't visit the hospital much anymore."
The clock on the wall ticked past 5 p.m. The interview was officially over.As the girls began to stand up, Stephnie said, "Thank you for your time, Dr. Peterson. We appreciate your patience."
But before they could leave, Murphy looked up and spoke again — this time in a noticeably softer tone."So, what are you ladies doing tonight?"
The question hung in the air for a moment.Claire and Stephnie exchanged a quick glance. They knew exactly what kind of invitation this was leading to.
Murphy continued, smiling faintly."I'm hosting a small party at my mansion this evening. A few respected guests, some good food and music. If you three are free, I'd be delighted if you joined us."
The offer was polite, but the intent behind it wasn't lost on anyone.Before Lily or Stephnie could respond, Claire stepped in.
"Of course, Doctor," she said smoothly. "We'd be honored to attend."
Murphy's smile widened. "Excellent. My assistant will give you the address at reception. Be there by eight-thirty."
When they stepped out of the hospital, Stephnie finally turned to Claire, visibly surprised."Claire, why did you agree to go to that party?"
Before Claire could answer, Lily grinned."Oh, come on, Steph! It's a mansion party — what's the harm? A little champagne in the middle of a mystery won't hurt anyone."
Claire gave a small, knowing smile."It's not the party I'm interested in," she said quietly. "It's George Peterson. If he's there tonight, I might finally get some answers — about this hospital, and… about." and then she stopped.
The three girls stepped out of the hospital and returned to the same motel where they had stayed the previous night. Lily immediately took out her makeup kit and began getting ready with her usual excitement. Stephnie opened her luggage, searching to see if she had anything suitable to wear for the evening party. Meanwhile, Claire sat quietly on the bed, lost in thought — thankful that Murphy had personally invited them to his mansion. This was her chance to finally meet Mr. George Peterson and perhaps learn something about her own father's mysterious connection to him.
Lily, as always, carried her collection of party dresses wherever she went, and Stephnie soon slipped into a sleek one-piece outfit. But Claire stood confused, unable to decide what to wear; her bag held nothing but jeans and a few casual tops. Seeing her dilemma, Lily smiled mischievously and said,"Claire, what are you thinking so hard about? You're forgetting that my size is also 32-28-34 — medium — so you can wear any of my dresses. I have plenty of party outfits that'll fit you perfectly."
Claire blushed slightly and replied, "Yeah, that's fine, but seriously, Lily, you're such a naughty girl — you just said that so casually, without a bit of shame."
Hearing her shy tone, both Stephnie and Lily burst into laughter. Eventually, Claire picked out a wine-red dress from Lily's collection. It looked stunning on her, but she wasn't entirely comfortable — most of Lily's outfits were quite revealing, with plunging necklines that showed more than half her cleavage. Yet she had no choice; if she wanted to attend the party, she had to wear something.
"Claire, it's okay," Stephnie said with a teasing grin. "You look gorgeous. And anyway, Murphy didn't invite us tonight for the sake of the party — he probably just wanted a chance to taste Lily's youth, to kiss her horizontal and vertical lips."
Stephnie's remark made all three girls laugh loudly. Soon after, they grabbed their things, got into Tom's car, and drove off toward Murphy's mansion. The clock was already ticking past 8:15, and the invitation was for 8:30 sharp.
After driving a short distance from the hospital, their car entered a lush green field. In the middle of it stood a grand mansion, magnificent and royal, with a large water fountain glittering at the front like liquid crystal. The fountain added an ethereal charm to the beauty of the mansion, and the entire garden around it was decorated with lights and flowers. The place gleamed like a newlywed bride dressed for celebration.
"Looks like the Peterson family is really loaded," Stephnie said, impressed by the opulence. "They've decorated the entire place like a royal wedding venue."
Lily adjusted her dress and said dreamily, "Honestly, if Murphy tries to get close to me tonight — if he tries to sleep with me — I don't think I'll be able to say no. He's not just insanely hot but also super rich. He's exactly my type."
"Fine then," Claire said calmly. "You keep Murphy distracted — flirt with him if you must — while Stephnie and I will mingle around, meet people, and try to find Mr. George Peterson. Maybe we'll get something useful out of it."
All three agreed on their plan and stepped out of the car, walking toward the mansion's glittering entrance.
Murphy hadn't exaggerated — the party was grand indeed. Influential and famous people from all over had gathered there. Inside the mansion, every corner was alive — exquisite dishes lined the tables, the air was thick with the aroma of champagne and expensive perfume, and on stage, a group of dancers dressed in barely-there costumes moved sensually to the beat of the music. Many of the guests watched them with lust-filled eyes.
As the girls entered, Lily's eyes immediately began scanning the crowd, searching for Murphy. Claire, on the other hand, was focused entirely on finding Mr. George Peterson. Just then, Murphy appeared from the midst of the crowd, his charming smile cutting through the noise as he walked toward them to welcome the three girls personally.
"I hope you girls didn't have too much trouble finding the address," Murphy said with a charming smile, gently kissing each of their hands in turn.
"Not at all," Stephnie replied lightly. "There's barely any other house around here apart from your mansion — it stands alone for miles."
Murphy chuckled at her remark. "That's because this entire area — every inch of land you can see — belongs to my ancestors. As far as your eyes can reach, it's all Peterson property," he said, a touch of pride glinting in his voice.
"Oh really?" Claire asked, genuinely surprised.
As she spoke, Murphy's eyes drifted toward Lily, scanning her from head to toe. The dress Lily had chosen barely covered her — it concealed only what was necessary, leaving most of her smooth skin exposed to the shimmering light. There was a distinct hunger in Murphy's gaze; the desire in his eyes was impossible to miss.
"Miss Lily," Murphy said, extending his hand toward her, "would you honor me with a dance?"
"Of course, Murphy. Why not?" Lily smiled seductively, slipping her hand into his. Together, they walked away toward the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd.
As soon as they left, Claire and Stephnie began their real task. Claire moved toward the center of the gathering, scanning every corner in search of Murphy's father, Mr. George Peterson. Stephnie, meanwhile, mingled with the guests, hoping to extract more information about the Peterson family.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, Claire spotted him — George Peterson himself, standing alone by the mansion's poolside, a glass of whiskey in hand. She had seen his photograph earlier in Murphy's office, so recognizing him wasn't difficult. Taking a deep breath, she walked straight to him and stood nearby, casually sipping her drink.
"I don't think I've seen you here before," George said, noticing her presence. "You must be here for the first time, I suppose? Are you one of Murphy's friends — and here alone tonight?"
"Oh, you must be Mr. George Peterson — Murphy's father," Claire replied politely, offering her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Yes, I'm Murphy's friend. Actually, I met him earlier today for the first time — for an interview, and he kindly invited me to this party."
George chuckled, his tone growing slightly flirtatious. "Well, sometimes my son does manage to make the right decisions by accident. Good thing he invited you, or else I'd have missed the chance to meet such a beautiful lady tonight."
Claire could instantly tell — not only Murphy, but even George was the same kind of man: lustful, predatory, and always seeking women to satisfy his desires. Like father, like son, she thought bitterly. Both men seemed to think of women as mere playthings. Still, she knew she couldn't afford to rush to conclusions. If she wanted to learn about her father, Allen McPhee, she had to play along — stay friendly, stay composed.
As they talked, George's eyes kept drifting lower, unable to resist glancing at her cleavage. He tried to gauge the curve of her breasts beneath the red dress, pretending to sip his drink while his gaze shamelessly roamed.
Then, with a sly smile, he said, "Claire, if you don't mind, why don't we go somewhere quieter to talk? This party is starting to feel rather dull to me."
"Of course," Claire replied softly, keeping her tone neutral. "But I can't really leave the party completely — I came here with my friends."
"That's all right," George said smoothly. "We won't go far. Let's just talk in my office — it's right across from the pool."
He gestured for her to follow. Claire hesitated for a fraction of a second, then placed her glass down and walked behind him as he led the way away from the noise, toward the dimly lit corridor that disappeared into the mansion's shadows.
Claire understood that what Murphy desired to do with Lily was exactly what George wished to do with her. Yet, without saying a word, she decided to go with George and began following him.
On the other side, Murphy had brought Lily into his bedroom. The moment they entered the room, he grabbed Lily and started kissing her, sliding his hand inside her dress to caress her hips. However, Lily's gaze suddenly fell upon a tattoo etched on Murphy's chest, which read "Marry". She instantly remembered that during the interview, Murphy had mentioned that the journalist who published the article against the hospital was named "Marry Thomas." This led her to question why Murphy would have a tattoo of Marry's name on his chest.