The Jilted Heiress' Return to the High Life - Chapter 202

Chapter 202:

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Wilbur’s entrance brought a chill to the room.

“Name, age, occupation!” he demanded, his voice sharp as steel.

Corrine responded to each query with composed precision.

“What brought you to the scene? Were you involved in illegal transactions? Did you transport those items?”

“To save someone. No, and no.” Corrine’s replies cut through the air with deliberate brevity.

Her detached demeanor ignited Wilbur’s fury. His fist crashed against the table.

“Young lady, you have a promising future ahead. Here’s some wisdom—better safe than sorry! Otherwise, you might spend your prime years behind prison walls!”

The day’s events struck Corrine as peculiar. Though the identity of the informant remained a mystery, she refused to dwell on such trivialities.

“Might I make a phone call?”

“You think this is a hotel?” Wilbur’s anger flared anew, his eyes blazing.

“Cooperate, or face the consequences!”

Corrine’s gaze drifted to the wall clock, her voice carrying practiced indifference.

“Whatever.”

Her thoughts wandered to Jules—surely the message had reached him by now, and he was en route.

In the neighboring interrogation room, perspiration soaked through Donnelly’s clothes. Panic gripped his mind as he wondered about the anonymous tipster.

This situation spelled disaster!

Carl’s reaction to Corrine’s predicament would be catastrophic. Donnelly dreaded the consequences. Even more terrifying were Jayden and Waldo, those seemingly kind men who transformed into fiercely protective uncles when it came to Corrine.

Their devotion knew no bounds when it came to her welfare. Would they lay siege to the police station upon discovering this?

Donnelly’s stomach churned—he had stumbled into a nightmare of his own making.

Matias burst into Nate’s office, his footsteps echoing with urgency.

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He found Nate sitting behind his desk, those dark eyes radiating an intensity that seemed to pierce through everything they beheld, creating an almost palpable aura of danger around him.

The weight of Nate’s penetrating stare made Matias’ chest constrict, his fingers curling involuntarily into tight fists.

Drawing in a steadying breath against the oppressive atmosphere, he ventured cautiously, “Sir, I encountered Miss Holland at the police station.”

The mere mention of Miss Holland caused a subtle shift in Nate’s glacial demeanor. He set his pen down with deliberate care.

“Was this a professional visit?”

Matias observed the strange juxtaposition of calm and intensity in Nate’s bearing. Though tempted to make light of the situation, he recognized that anything concerning Corrine demanded absolute seriousness. The consequences of any misfortune befalling her at the station would be severe indeed.

“The complete picture remains unclear,” Matias continued, measuring his words carefully.

“However, I overheard the investigating officers mention Miss Holland’s possible involvement in illegal transactions, potentially connected to a case from three years past.”

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