?Chapter 938:


    The officer standing nearby noticed him freeze and spoke up. “Mr. Stevens, everything all right?”


    Brannon snapped out of it, cleared his throat loudly, and said with a smug edge, “You’re not needed here. Get out.”


    “But…” The officer hesitated, then added, “Sir, this isn’t exactly by the book.”


    “You think I need a lesson from you on how to handle a suspect? Rules bend when they need to!” Brannon’s voice sharpened as he grabbed the officer’s cor and shoved him back. “This one’s not just any suspect. I’ll handle her myself. Now get out!”


    “But—” the officer started, trying to speak up.


    Brannon didn’t let him finish. “Why are you running your mouth so much? Arion’s not here. That makes me the boss!”


    He gave the officer onest push and mmed the door shut behind him.


    Outside, the officer stared at the closed door. He let out a slow sigh, already used to this kind of thing.


    Brannon held the title of deputy director, but everyone knew it was his deep connections that kept him untouchable. He never missed a chance to throw his weight around.


    Thest officer who crossed Brannon didn’t just get a warning—he was stripped of his badge and kicked out on the spot.


    If someone as arrogant and heavy-handed as Brannon ever climbed higher up thedder, everyone at the station knew their lives would turn into a nightmare.


    Corrine sat back, one leg crossed over the other. Her fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the lock on her cuffs.


    The soft click of the door locking reached her ears, making her brow crease ever so slightly.


    Brannon shuffled through a few papers, pretending to review something important. Then he nced up at her with a sly, unpleasant smile. “You’ve got some real fight in you for someone so young. Did you know the people you beat up are still stuck in the hospital?”


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    Corrine’s expression cooled. “Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me and more time figuring out who hired them toe after me.”


    “Rx, we’ll get to everything that matters,” Brannon said. He tossed the papers onto the table with a loud p, and then strolled around behind her, slow and deliberate.


    He nced back at the surveince camera, adjusted its angle slightly, and then stepped directly in front of it, his broad frame blocking the entire view.


    A faint, pleasant scent drifted from Corrine. It caught him off guard—sweet and distracting, almost intoxicating.


    Brannon leaned down, one handnding firmly on her shoulder. “If you confess now, things might go easier for you. Keep fighting, and you’ll regret it. Be smart and—ah!”


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