?Chapter 933:


    Picking up on the hint, Leah answered, “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”


    Once the call ended, Leah’s eyes gleamed with a touch of malice. She couldn’t wait to see Corrine copse now that Nate wouldn’t be there to back her up.


    Leah took a deep breath to steady herself, then dialed the police. When the call connected, she wasted no time. “I need to report an intentional assault. A woman’s injured some men; there’s a lot of blood… The culprit is in her early…”


    “Twenties, very attractive… Check the surveince near Maple Avenue. You’ll definitely find her.”


    The police were working closely with other agencies tobat organized crime. Wilbur, the leader of the action team, had been on night shifts for a whole week and was finally nning to head home early for some rest.


    He left the station with a cigarette hanging from his mouth and his denim jacket slung over his shoulder.


    Just then, an officer approached him.


    “Wilbur, can you take on a case?”


    “What’s going on?” Wilbur asked.


    “Intentional assault,” the officer replied. “We’ve got the surveince footage and identified the suspect.”


    Wilbur took the cigarette out of his mouth. “And the name?”


    The officer answered, “Corrine Hond.”


    Wilbur’s exhaustion vanished, and his voice became suddenly tense. “Who did you say?”


    The officer looked at him, puzzled. “Corrine Hond. Is there an issue with that name?”


    Wilbur was stunned.


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    This was a serious problem!


    He quickly gathered himself. “What exactly did she do?”


    “She assaulted a group of men,” the officer replied. After thinking for a moment, he added, “Jack from your team took the victims to the hospital. They should be getting treated now. He called to say the injuries are bad—broken bones, ribs, and one of them is still out cold.”


    Wilbur felt a shock run through him at the news.


    This young woman from the Ford family was getting bolder and more reckless by the day.


    He swallowed hard. “Where’s the surveince footage?”


    “It’s on myputer,” the officer replied, but Wilbur brushed past him and went straight to theputer.


    He frowned and rubbed his fingers together, lost in thought.


    Then his phone rang. It was Brannon Stevens, the deputy chief. “Are you at the station?”


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