Chapter 228

Freya's face was a canvas of bruises and blood, the imprint of a slap stark against her skin. The female prisoner glared at her, venom in her eyes. “I’m asking you one more time. Are you going to confess or not? If you don’t, I swear I’ll break your hands so badly that you won’t ever be able to hold a pen again!”

“Go ahead…try me…” A defiant smile played on Freya’s lips despite the threat, which fueled the prisoner’s rage.

“Fine, you asked for it!”

Just as the prisoner raised her hand to deliver another blow, Kieran’s furious voice echoed through the space, “Stop right there!”

The prisoner froze, turning to see Kieran, sharply dressed in a suit, striding toward them with a stormy look. Bob struggled to unlock the cell, letting Kieran in.

The scene inside was gruesome, with blood splattered everywhere and strands of hair scattered across the floor. Freya was slumped in a corner, barely conscious, her clothes torn, her body marred with wounds, her right hand swollen and discolored from the abuse. Kieran’s eyes narrowed, his face paling at the sight.

Bob was equally shocked, his face twisting in anger as he turned to the prisoner and hissed, “Who told you to go this far?”

“She doesn’t die, it’s fine?” the prisoner mumbled, fear creeping into her voice. “Wasn’t it you who said as long—”

Kieran’s expression darkened further. “Bob, since when did we resort to such brutality?”

“No, no, this is all a misunderstanding!” Bob stammered.

“Mr. Sutton!” Jarrett yelled upon seeing the scene.

Kieran had cradled Freya in his arms, rushing her out of the cell. Freya was totally taken aback.

“It was supposed to be an interrogation. How did it turn into this?”

“Drive to the hospital,” Kieran ordered. Jarrett hurried to the car.

Back in the cell, Bob turned to the prisoners, his disappointment evident. “You were supposed to follow orders, not… That is beyond what I said. And now, you’re talking about sentence reduction?”

The prisoners fell silent, realizing the gravity of their actions.

At Crescent Medical Center, Kieran gently placed Freya on a hospital bed, anxiously watching the doctors take her into surgery. His heart was heavy with worry.

“Mr. Sutton, the doctors say they’re mostly surface injuries. She should be fine…” someone tried to reassure him.

“Fine?” Kieran’s voice was icy. “Tell Bob, if Freya can’t keep her hand, I want those women’s hands on my desk!”

“Understood, Mr. Sutton.”

Meanwhile, Caleb drove Eloise to Crescent Medical Center. Upon spotting Kieran in the corridor, Eloise rushed over, concern written all over her face. “Kieran! Are you hurt?”

Upon hearing Kieran was at the hospital, Eloise insisted on coming immediately. Kieran glanced at Caleb briefly and indifferently, misunderstanding the situation. Eloise hurriedly tried to clarify her relationship with Caleb, but Kieran focused on something else.

“Eloise, who trashed your place? Who’s threatening you? Did you see who it was?” His questions were cold, his mind preoccupied with the unfolding events.

Eloise froze, caught off guard by his inquiry.