?Chapter 939:


    Before he could finish his sentence, Corrine’s hand flicked. She jerked her wrist, flinging the hot water from her paper cup straight into his face.


    The scalding ssh made Brannon howl in pain. His eyes squeezed shut, his whole face twisting up as he yelled.


    Themotion echoed into the hallway. Officers outside grabbed the handle, trying to yank the door open, but it wouldn’t budge—locked from the inside.


    They stood there for a second, trading confused nces, clearly unsure what to do next.


    Just then, Wilbur walked up. His brow furrowed when he saw them loitering by the door. “What are you all standing around for?”


    “Mr. Stevens said this suspect’s a high priority, so he wanted to handle the interrogation personally…”


    The moment Wilbur heard that, unease hit him like a cold wave. He strode straight to the door and grabbed the handle. It didn’t budge—locked.


    Without wasting a second, he took a step back, raised his foot, and mmed it into the door. After a few solid kicks, the door flew open.


    Wilbur rushed inside. His eyes swept the room until he spotted Corrine, still sitting calmly in her chair. A wave of relief passed over him. Then, his gaze shifted to Brannon, whose face seemed scalded and reddened.


    “Mr. Stevens, are you all right?” one of the officers asked, his voice uncertain.


    Brannon’s face twisted with fury. “Do I look all right to you?”


    The person quickly backed off. His eyes drifted to Brannon’s swollen, dripping face, and he bit his lip hard to keep fromughing.


    “Mr. Stevens, maybe you should step back for a bit. We can take over the questioning,” Wilbur said, speaking up at just the right moment.


    Brannon let out a harsh breath, one hand still pressed against his throbbing eye. His jaw tightened. “If she wants to y tough, fine. Lock her up and starve her out. No food, no water—let’s see how long that attitudests.”


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    “That’spletely against protocol,” Wilbur pointed out, his voice calm but firm.


    Brannon red. “At this station, I’m the one who calls the shots!”


    Before anyone could respond, a cold, cutting voice sliced through the air. “Mr. Stevens, don’t think you can throw your weight around and abuse your authority!”


    Everyone’s heads turned toward the door. Jayden stood there, tall and imposing, a ck trench coat draped over his shoulders.


    The bright fluorescent lights above cast sharp shadows across his face. His gaze locked onto Corrine’s cuffed wrists. His expression darkened instantly, his narrowed eyes shing with barely contained fury.


    The temperature in the interrogation room seemed to drop suddenly. Jules sensed the change in his father’s presence. His gaze dropped, and a small, sly grin appeared on his face.


    He truly believed that Brannon had no idea how dangerous his situation was. If this issue was handled well, everyone would be happy. If not, Brannon’s career could end in an instant.


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