Corrine’s composure only served to intensify Wilbur’s mounting anger. His fist connected with the table as he roared, “Corrine Holland, enough games! Don’t expect special treatment because of your gender! Trafficking historical artifacts and forging antiquities-either charge alone could destroy your future!”
Corrine maintained her tranquil demeanor, her voice steady.
“I request Chief Hoffman’s presence.”
“Chief Hoffman doesn’t grant audiences on demand!” Wilbur’s lips curled into a sneer.
“A few days in lockup without meals might loosen that tongue of yours!”
The officer at his side shifted uncomfortably, leaning close to whisper, “Sir, something peculiar has caught my attention.”
“Explain,” Wilbur demanded, his severe expression darkening further.
“How does she know Hoffman is our chief’s surname?”
The question gave Wilbur pause, his brow furrowing in contemplation.
“Where’s her documentation?”
“Right here.” The officer presented the folder, its contents barely reviewed in the rush of the investigation.
Opening it, Wilbur discovered Corrine’s background check contained only the most basic information.
“Sir, this is…” The officer’s disbelief was palpable.
Despite their department’s sophisticated resources and skilled investigators, Corrine’s file revealed nothing beyond elementary details-birth date, name, and gender.
This unusual sparseness suggested either unprecedented innocence or, more likely, an identity deliberately shrouded beyond their clearance level.
A heavy silence fell over the room as Wilbur and the officer exchanged a look. Corrine, for her part, remained effortlessly composed, as if she already knew what they had found.
Yet, as far as Wilbur knew, no influential family in Lyhaton bore the surname Holland.
Before he could press further, a sharp knock interrupted the tense atmosphere.
An officer stepped in, giving Corrine a lingering glance before whispering to Wilbur, “Sir… Chief Hoffman wants to see you.”
Wilbur’s eyes narrowed.
“Wasn’t he attending a meeting in the neighboring city?” The officer shook his head.
“Don’t know the details, sir.”
Before he could elaborate, Arion Hoffman’s thunderous voice resonated through the corridor.
“Where’s that troublemaker Wilbur? Get him out here immediately!”
Every eye in the interrogation room turned toward Wilbur, gauging his reaction. He frowned slightly, passed the file to his colleague, and strode toward the door, nearly colliding with Arion’s approaching figure
“Not a single peaceful day with you around!” Arion’s glare could have melted steel, his jaw clenched tight.
“What sin did I commit to deserve you as my eternal headache?”
“Chief, that’s hardly fair. You sang a different tune when I was breaking cases.” Wilbur extracted a cigarette, offering it with practiced nonchalance.
“Care for one?”
Arion’s exasperation dissolved into bitter laughter.
“You dare think about smoking now? Go ahead – consider it your parting indulgence.”
The words struck Wilbur like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily stunned.
Wilbur stood frozen, cigarette dangling between his fingers, as he watched Arion stride past him. The reality of the situation finally jolted him into action, and he scrambled after his superior, his voice brimming with conviction.
“Chief Hoffman, this case is extraordinary. We could finally apprehend Brevard after three years on the run. I just need authorization from higher up…”
His words trailed off as he entered the room, witnessing an unexpected scene. Arion was personally removing Corrine’s handcuffs, his face softened with genuine concern as he spoke.
“Corrine, my dear niece, I deeply regret my late arrival. You must have been through so much.”
The officers fell silent, and Wilbur remained rooted at the doorway, his mind struggling to process the revelation. Arion was Corrine’s uncle?
The truth was more nuanced. While not Corrine’s biological uncle, Arion was Jules’ uncle by blood. In her youth, Jules often brought Corrine to the Hoffman residence, and over time, they had warmly embraced her as family. This led to Corrine naturally addressing Arion as “Uncle Arion” alongside Jules. While most people coveted connections to the Hoffman family, Arion considered Corrine’s familial acknowledgment a profound honor-not for political gain, but because she represented the heart of both Carl and the entire Ford family.
Corrine massaged her freed wrist, offering Arion a warm smile.
“Did Jules inform you?”
Arion’s expression transformed instantly, panic flickering across his features.
“What? Jules knows you’re here?”
If Jules knew, then the news would surely reach the ears of Jayden-Arion’s brother-in-law. The thought of his brother-in-law’s knowledge meant potential chaos for his police station, especially given how deeply the Ford family members cherished Corrine.
A thoughtful look crossed Corrine’s face as she observed Arion’s distress. If Jules hadn’t alerted him, who had?
Her contemplation was interrupted by an urgent announcement from outside.
“Chief, Mr. Jayden Ford has arrived.”
Arion’s eyebrow twitched violently-his worst fears materializing. After composing himself, he turned to Corrine with a carefully crafted smile.
“Corrine, would you accompany me?”
She nodded, and they exited the interrogation room together. As they passed Wilbur, Arion shot him a stern glare.
“You’re coming too. You created this mess, and you’ll help resolve it!” He refused to shoulder the burden alone.
Wilbur remained bewildered by the situation. The illegal transaction case involving Corrine seemed straightforward-surely connections couldn’t override clear evidence?
In Arion’s office, Jayden reclined on a black sofa, legs crossed with elegant indifference, a lit cigarette held between his slender fingers. As footsteps approached, he raised his gaze, his sharp eyes piercing through the atmosphere with such intensity that Arion involuntarily caught his breath. Despite their connection as brothers-in-law and Arion’s seniority, Jayden’s presence never failed to instill a profound sense of trepidation.
Arion hesitated before forcing a smile.
“Minister Ford, surely such a minor matter didn’t warrant your personal attention.”
“Tell me what happened.” Jayden extinguished his cigarette, his casual glance toward Wilbur carrying an arctic chill that sent shivers down the latter’s spine. Arion turned to Wilbur with a glare.
“Well? Explain yourself!”
Wilbur straightened instinctively when called upon, his gaze meeting Jayden’s as he cleared his throat.
“Based on our current evidence, she stands as the prime suspect in this case.”
The cold laugh that escaped Jayden’s throat sent a chill through the room, causing Arion’s heart to sink with dread. Damn it. A cold laugh from Jayden was never a good sign.
He had given Wilbur this opportunity to prove himself, appreciating the man’s raw talent. Instead, Wilbur was digging his own grave with every word.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.