Chapter 65
65:
Brendon’s legs nearly gave out beneath him, his heart pounding with panic—until he spotted the uniforms. Police officers. He exhaled sharply in relief. So, Finnegan had really called the police. For a moment, he thought they were done for.
One officer stepped forward, his voice firm and official. “We received a report about a suspected criminal gang posing a public threat in this area. Please cooperate and come with us. You have the right to remain silent—but anything you say may be used against you in court. Who made the report?”
“I did!” Finnegan raised his hand high, pointing toward Christina and the muscular men flanking her. “It’s them! They attacked us! Tried to strangle us to death—look at our necks!” He tugged at his collar, revealing red marks like badges of honor. “This is attempted murder!”
Katie jumped in eagerly to play the victim. “I can back that up!” she said, holding her head high and turning to show the red welts on her skin. “I was this close to dying! They attacked us like savages!”
Joselyn and Sheila quickly followed suit, revealing similar bruises and adding exaggerated gasps and dramatic retellings, all designed to paint Christina as a monster.
Yolanda’s eyes shimmered with tears, her hand drifting to her neck. Though it seemed she was trying to cover the marks, she was actually revealing them just enough to be noticed.
Brendon remained silent. As a man, the shame of being lifted by the throat like a helpless puppet was unbearable. The memory made his stomach turn—but he said nothing, refusing to admit the humiliation.
The officer glanced over them all, his expression unreadable. “All of you will need to come with us for further investigation.”
Christina let out a slow breath, utterly unfazed. “Alright,” she said coolly. “Let’s get this over with.”
Without another word, she stepped forward, the others following behind as the officers escorted them away.
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Not far away, hidden in the shadows, a sleek black business car sat parked. “Mr. Scott,” the driver said quietly. “Miss Jones has been taken by the police.”
Dylan simply hummed in response.
“Should we intervene?” the driver asked cautiously.
Dylan’s expression remained unreadable. “Not for now.”
“Alright.” The driver offered no further comment. He had served Dylan for years, and if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that Dylan never acted without a plan.
“To the police station,” Dylan instructed calmly, closing his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. He had a gut feeling that Christina didn’t need his intervention this time. She could handle everything herself.
The car slid into a shadowed corner near the police station, its matte-black body blending seamlessly into the darkness.
Meanwhile, inside the police station, the initial questioning had wrapped up. The servants had already been cleared and released.
Brendon turned toward Christina, his expression a strange mix of sternness and something gentler—almost pity. “If you apologize and admit fault,” he said quietly, “I’ll drop the charges. No need to drag this out.”
Christina tilted her head, unimpressed. “Apologize? For what exactly? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Brendon’s brow tightened. “Why are you so stubborn? I’m trying to help you. If this goes further, you could end up in detention. I’m offering you a way out.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, her voice cold. “How generous of you.”
Before Brendon could reply, Katie cut in with sharp disdain. “Brendon, seriously? Stop trying to help her! You’re not her husband anymore. The woman you should be thinking about is Yolanda—not some fickle slut who cheated on you!”
“Shut up, Katie!” Brendon snapped, his face flushing with anger. The mention of being cuckolded in public was a slap to his pride. His face darkened with fury.
Katie bit her lip and backed down, though her glare said she wasn’t finished.
With a fake attempt to smooth things over, Yolanda stepped forward, her voice soft and reasonable. “Let’s not escalate this, Christina. Just apologize and take responsibility. We really don’t want this to get uglier than it already is.”
Christina gave a slow, mocking smile. “How thoughtful.” Then, with an almost playful glint in her eye, she reached into her pocket.
Christina’s actions sent a ripple of unease through Brendon and the others. They tensed. A wave of dread prickled across their skin as if Christina were about to unveil something that would shatter the fragile narrative they’d built.
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