?Chapter 949:


    Nate’s lips curled into something that might have been a smile—if not for the cold glint in his eyes. “So tell me,” he said smoothly, “was it your idea to detain and extract confessions through mistreatment?”


    If Brannon missed the threat woven beneath that calm tone, then he had learned nothing from his years in office. His mask slipped for a heartbeat before he recovered.


    “Mr. Hopkins, I assure you, we received a credible report. Miss Hond deliberately injured some people, causing serious harm. We were obligated to bring her in for questioning. When she refused to cooperate, we had no choice but to take firm measures. I hope you understand.”


    “Is that so?” Nate’s voice was a smooth, unreadable ripple. “Who filed the report? Have they been interrogated? Have they given statements? Have you thoroughly…”


    investigated the injured people in the hospital? Do you have any concrete evidence?”


    The rapid-fire questions struck Brannon like a flurry of blows. He blinked, momentarily stunned, like a deer caught in the harsh re of headlights. The sensation of being interrogated wed at hisposure.


    He flicked a nce at Robert, who caught the signal instantly. “The report came from Leah Burgess. The hospital provided the injury reports—eight victims total. Six with serious injuries, one with minor wounds, and another in aa. We also reviewed the local surveince footage and found nothing unusual.”


    “Oh?” Jules drawled mockingly. “It seems you’re not quite as confident as before, Officer White.”


    Robert clenched his fists. “We are simply upholding thew.”


    “Then let’s cut to the chase.” Jules went cold, his tone turning stern. “I have a simple question. How do you n to convict without solid evidence?”


    “Who says there’s no evidence?” Brannon asked. “Isn’t the hospital’s injury report evidence enough? Or perhaps the surveince footage showing the assault isn’t sufficient for you?”


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    He paused just long enough for the silence to bite. “Robert, fetch the materials from my office.”


    “Yes, sir.”


    Momentster, Robert spread the documents across the table—each piece of evidenceid out like a winning hand in a high-stakes poker game.


    Brannon straightened his posture, a self-satisfied gleam in his eyes. Even with Nate’s powerful backing and a top-tierwyer by her side, Corrine would struggle to refute such damning evidence.


    Waldo examined the injury reports with a discerning eye. The official hospital stamps marked them as legitimate—no easy forgery here. Brannon reclined, crossing his legs with a smug tilt of his head. “ording to thew of Lyhaton, intentional harm carries a sentence of up to three years—or more, depending on the severity. Instead of pointless arguments, I suggest you focus on ensuring theatose victim survives. Should he not pull through, Miss Hond could be facing up to ten years or more behind bars—perhaps even life.”


    He turned to Waldo, the veneer of arrogance thick in his tone. “Mr. Waldo Ford, you are a distinguishedwyer. Surely, no one here understands thew better than you. After reviewing the injury reports, do you have anything to add?”


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