Too Late, Mr. Cooper: Your Bride Ran with Your Baby novel Chapter 230

“And the Nightfall brothers... with you constantly on their trail, they’ve split up and are on the run. They can barely fend for themselves.”

Linton shot him a cold glance. “Just say what you want to say.”

Lucas flinched.

The pressure in the car was immense, as cold and biting as a winter storm, making his scalp tingle with anxiety.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. “Mr. Cooper, keeping Miss Rowe locked in the basement and starving her isn’t a long-term solution.”

“It’s possible she really did make a deal with the Nightfall brothers, using Logan as a bargaining chip and leaving the child in their hands.”

“Perhaps... one of the brothers has the boy with them, keeping him hidden.”

Linton’s expression growing even colder.

He held a lit cigarette between his long fingers, the red tip glowing erratically in the darkness of the car.

After a long silence, a vicious light flared in his deep, narrow eyes. “Did you find what I asked you to find?”

Lucas nodded stiffly, his expression becoming more complicated. “We’ve found most of it, but the new evidence isn’t overwhelming. It’s barely enough to file a case.”

“Then file it.”

Linton’s eyes glinted with malice. His handsome face was contorted with a chilling ruthlessness he rarely showed.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, then slowly exhaled a plume of smoke.

Through the swirling haze, Linton’s eyes narrowed, and his voice was flat and cold. “Go to the corporate legal department. Find our most experienced lawyer and sue Isabella.”

“The charge...”

A profound look of disgust on Linton’s face.

“Attempted murder of Crownport’s Matthew Grayson.”

...

Isabella was released.

But she was immediately taken into custody again.

When the police arrived at the suburban villa, they found a disheveled woman, emaciated and on the verge of a mental breakdown, raving in a corner of the room.

After a brief moment of surprise, they moved without hesitation to arrest her.

*Click.*

The cold handcuffs snapped around her bony wrists, jolting her into a frantic panic.

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