CHAPTER 18: CHAPTER 18- POLICE STATION

Riley, however, didn’t seem to care.

"Ah, it’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about me. You focus on taking care of Renata when she wakes up."

"I’ll hang up now!"

With that, Riley ended the call.

"Riley—"

Catherine hurriedly called out, but Riley had already hung up.

Catherine frowned, holding her phone, trying to figure out what to do about Riley. She was worried—Riley was too impulsive, and Catherine feared she might further provoke the Channings. She wanted to head to the police station herself, but her mother’s surgery was still ongoing; she couldn’t leave.

"What happened?"

The deep voice of the man beside her reached her, pulling Catherine out of her thoughts.

She suddenly remembered the imposing presence next to her. Since he asked, it meant he had heard the phone conversation with Riley, so Catherine didn’t bother hiding anything.

"My friend just had a bit of an unpleasant encounter with Lucca in the parking lot. It escalated to the police station..."

After she spoke, the man pursed his lips and fell silent for a moment before asking,

"Which police station? I’ll go check."

Catherine looked up at him. His deep eyes were fixed on her, calm and composed.

There was a serenity in his gaze and expression that made it hard to tell whether it came from his background and status, or from years of age and experience.

Whatever the source, meeting his eyes made it feel as if there was nothing in the world worth panicking over. Even if the sky fell, it seemed he wouldn’t furrow his brow. Catherine, who had been tense, felt some of her anxiety ease under his calm gaze.

Honestly, Catherine desperately needed his help. She couldn’t leave the hospital to handle Riley’s situation herself, and he had authority and influence—even as an illegitimate child, Channing would have to take him into account. That night at the restaurant, Channing had shown him plenty of deference.

But she didn’t want to trouble him too much. He had just helped arrange the chief surgeon for her mother, and she hadn’t even had the chance to thank him yet... and now she would owe him another favor.

Then again, she thought, she already owed him for her mother’s matter, so one more favor wouldn’t hurt. Once Renata’s condition stabilized, she could properly thank him.

So she swallowed her hesitation and accepted his help.

"Then... I’ll leave it to you..."

Bert raised a brow slightly, a faint smile flickering in his eyes, then said nothing more and turned to leave.

In truth, Bert thought that if he offered help and she tried to refuse or hemmed and hawed, he would be annoyed—or even dislike her.

He considered it foolish for a woman to stubbornly maintain "modesty" and refuse help. In his view, it was smarter to be clever, to recognize advantages, even if one’s motives were partly self-serving.

Catherine had agreed without hesitation. She seemed smart—she could assess the situation, knew she needed his help, and recognized the right time to act. The saying "wise is the one who knows the moment" applied to both men and women.

Women who were stubborn to a fault often suffered unnecessarily—like her mother, Renata, who was too principled and rigid. If Renata hadn’t refused even a single penny from Channing back then, perhaps Catherine wouldn’t be in this awkward position now.

But for Renata, refusing Channing’s money had brought her peace of mind all these years.

Choices were personal.

After Bert left, Catherine realized she had forgotten to ask his name or contact information. He had helped her twice now, and she truly wanted to thank him properly.

Yet, she also couldn’t help but wonder why he was helping her so repeatedly.

Catherine didn’t naively think he was doing it purely out of sympathy. By her sense, he wasn’t the kind of person with a warm heart—sometimes, she could even feel the intense distance in him.

Forget it, she told herself. I’ll ask him later when I can thank him properly.

But just now, Catherine had heard Lucca call him "Lord Washington." Washington... could it be Burg Eltz? The famous Washington Co.? Catherine thought for a moment. There weren’t many major companies with the name Washington or anything sounding like "Washington." And the only one Channing would fawn over like that was probably Washington Co.

The world had no shortage of wealthy people, but wealth came in tiers. Families like the Channings and Gerald’s S family were considered moderately wealthy. Washington Co., however, was several levels above them—a true powerhouse. No wonder Channing had that sycophantic expression.

At the police station.

Lucca and Tracy had already quickly found a lawyer. Riley, meanwhile, remained relaxed, leaning back with her usual carefree air.

A police officer reminded her,

"They’ve already hired a lawyer. Things are escalating. Shouldn’t you take some measures as well?"

Riley shrugged,

"Let them sue. I believe in the fairness of the law, and the judge will give me—"

The officer groaned,

"Listen, young lady, you should consider settling. Once a lawsuit goes through the legal process, you’ll end up with a record!"

Riley, clearly irritated, replied,

"I’ve already told my brother. He’ll be here soon."

Indeed, Riley had called her brother, Duke, just a little while ago, casually mentioning she was at the police station and asking him to come. Unlike Lucca, who would cry and complain dramatically, Riley’s tone had been calm.

Not long after, a tall, broad-shouldered man strode through the door—well over six feet, every inch packed with muscle.

He walked directly to Riley, standing beside her, brow furrowed, and asked sternly,

"What’s going on?"

Riley smirked, tilting her chin toward Lucca and Tracy’s group nearby.

"I got into a fight with them. They want to sue me."

The man was Riley’s older brother, Duke. Like his sister, he had a height advantage. Riley, a model, already stood around 5’8", and Duke was even taller. Their parents had both been athletes, and the siblings had inherited their physical gifts.

Because Duke’s appearance was so imposing, Tracy and the others immediately noticed. Seeing Riley’s family there, their bravado faltered.

Duke coldly glanced at them, then lifted Riley slightly to stand in front of her, his voice cutting and icy:

"You’re trying to sue my sister?"

Duke, a personal trainer, was all muscle from head to toe. Even in a simple short-sleeved t-shirt in the early autumn air, his bulk seemed ready to burst from the fabric. With his height, the Channings had to look up at him. Their arrogance immediately dampened.

And Duke—his presence alone was terrifying. With that fierce, almost demonic aura, just a single finger from him could probably pin someone to the ground.

Gerald stayed outside, unwilling to get involved. He was already irritated, letting the trio make all the noise.

So here, the only man on their side was Channing—an older man, with zero combat capability. It was Tracy who still shouted stubbornly,

"She attacked our daughter! We’re going to the hospital for a medical check and then sue her!"

Duke glared, hearing that Riley had received a slap on the back of her head. Riley winced in pain but fired back,

"She pushed me first!"

Duke squinted, his voice booming,

"She pushed you first? And that’s why you went and beat her like this? What, you think she deserved it just for that one push? You should’ve left her looking worse if you’re going to complain!"

The entire room fell silent.

Everyone froze, dumbfounded.

Duke continued scolding Riley,

"I’ve told you countless times, you should train with me in the gym whenever you have time. If your punches and kicks were better, you wouldn’t be in this mess today!"

The police officer nearby was about to explode. This young woman had already been half-hearted in her attitude. They thought bringing in her parents would calm things down, but now, with this older brother here, it seemed she hadn’t hit hard enough...

The officer slammed his hand on the table, booming,

"Hey! Are you here to solve the problem or just make things worse? This is a police station, not the street! Settle it or go through the lawsuit—decide, now!"

Duke ignored him, his cold eyes now fixed on Lucca.

"You’re the one who pushed my sister?"

Lucca’s eyes welled up with tears. She shrank behind Channing, terrified. That murderous glare from Duke made her feel like even admitting it could get her thrown out.

Channing, being a man and a father, braced himself to confront Duke,

"What are you trying to do?"

Duke let out a cold snort. Just as Channing thought he might strike, a calm yet stern male voice cut through the chaos in the office,

"What’s going on?"

Everyone turned to look at him. He was dressed in a deep navy shirt and black trousers—composed, upright, his face immaculate. His brows carried the weight of experience, and his gaze swept over everyone with quiet authority, tinged with a hint of severity.