"Ms. Holt, we've received a report accusing you of hiring thugs to assault and publicly humiliate someone. You need to come with us to the station for questioning."
Giselle had expected this, though Anne's speed in filing a report still surprised her.
But the police station was nothing new to her. She didn't resist, calmly stepping into the patrol car.
At the station, she lounged back in her chair, relaxed, answering every question with casual ease.
The interrogation dragged on for about three hours. The officers combed through her recent call logs, social media activity, and demanded detailed accounts of where she had been at each moment that night. Giselle responded openly and clearly, leaving no room for suspicion.
By the end, they had nothing—no shreds of evidence tying her to Anne's beating. They had no choice but to release her without charges.
The next morning, Giselle sat in her office, unable to resist placing a call to Sophia. She invited her over.
"Anne's mess last night—was that you?" Giselle asked bluntly.
Sophia arched her brow. "What do you think?"
Giselle was silent for a long moment and said, "I think you moved too fast."
Sophia accepted a glass of water from the secretary, Elowen Carris, took a sip, and said coolly, "She was heading to Zach's villa again. I wasn't about to let her get that far."
"Did the police bother you?"
"They did," Sophia said with a cold smile. "But I know how to stay clean. That slut isn't dead or crippled. She just got roughed up by a few women."


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