A bunch of cars screeched to a halt at the entrance.


    Seeing this, the security guards stopped wailing on Freya. Noticing she was barely conscious, they didn''t dare to keep going and turned their attention to the folks getting out of the cars. Besides the Porsche, there were a couple of cop cars too.Exclusive ? content by N(?)ve/l/Drama.Org.


    The cops jumped out and immediately cuffed the security guards.


    Walter stood in front of Freya, seeing her all bruised and battered, covered in footprints, with blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.


    Shey on the ground, half-opening her eyes. When she saw Walter, she slowly reached out and grabbed the hem of his clothes.


    "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. Amid the noisy police sirens, his words were barely audible.


    The cops showed up just in time. Getty had just sat down inside when they came in and hauled her away.


    "What the hell are you doing? On what grounds are you arresting me?" Getty snapped, struggling indignantly.


    The cop coldly replied, "Because you incited others to assault, which is suspected of attempted murder!"


    Getty argued, "She insisted on barging in. What does it have to do with me? Let me go. I was just defending myself. You can''t arrest me!"


    A voice coldly stated, "Ms. Morgan, if you keep resisting, you might also be charged with obstructing justice."


    Getty looked at the person speaking. It was none other than Walter.


    She gritted her teeth in anger but didn''t resist further. She didn''t mind being taken away herself; at worst, she would pay some money for the assault. But if the kid was discovered... Getty''s face turned extremely grim, and she signaled to the previous servant with her eyes. Before she could figure out if the servant understood, she was already being taken away. Walter noticed her subtle actions. After she left, he was about to go upstairs.


    The servant seemed to get Getty''s signal and immediately stepped forward to block Walter. "Sorry, the upstairs is a private area. Please stay here."


    Walter nced at him, raised an eyebrow, and looked back at the cop behind him. "Chief, did you hear a kid crying?"


    The chief furrowed his eyebrows and listened carefully. "Did I?"


    "How could you not? The crying was so loud just now," Walter said, pretending to have a sudden realization and looking at the servant. "Could it be that you gagged the kid?"


    The servant''s face changed. "Nonsense! How could that be possible?"


    "Oh? Why not?" Walter pressed.


    "Because there are no kids here at all!" the servant eximed, panicked.


    Walter pointed to a nearby trash can, which contained several blood-stained tissues. "Where did this bloode from?"


    The servant''s face changed again.


    "Chief, since he says there are no kids here, let''s take this blood back for testing. If my son really had an ident here, what crime would this person stopping us from going upstairs be guilty of?" Walter asked, staring intently at the servant as if trying to see through him.


    The chief also noticed the tissues in the trash can. He walked over, picked up a tissue, and sniffed it.


    The servant''s face had turned as white as a sheet, visibly panicking, almost as if the words "guilty conscience" were written on his face.


    The chief said, "If this is indeed your kid''s blood, everyone here will be charged with kidnapping and intentional harm."


    Looking at the servant, Walter dered, "Did you hear that? If you confess now, you might still have a chance to redeem yourself."


    The servant couldn''t hold it in any longer. He trembled and stammered, "I''ll tell you. Don''t arrest me."


    The servant led them to an old building which had been unupied for years. He opened a door to a storage room, turned on the light, revealing a kid curled up in the corner among the clutter.