Chapter 576 Confirming Biological Parentage
"Uncle George, why are you always so nice to me?" Seraphine asked, her head tilted and eyes full of curiosity.
George knelt, gently smoothing her slightly messy bangs. "Because you're the cutest little princess in the whole world, Seraphine."
Sophia watched the scene unfold, her experienced eyes catching the special tenderness in George's gaze. It was unmistakably the look of a father towards his daughter.
"Grandma, Uncle George bought me a huge teddy bear!" Seraphine exclaimed, throwing herself into Sophia's arms.
"That's because our Seraphine deserves the best," Sophia said softly, stroking Seraphine's cheek while her eyes thoughtfully followed George's retreating figure.
That evening, Sophia made her way to the Russell Villa and found George. "Can we talk?"
George served her a cup of coffee. "Sure, have a seat."
"I know about Seraphine," Sophia said directly, noticing the tension in George's jawline. She quickly added, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, not even Emma."
George's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Thank you."
"But I need to know," Sophia's gaze was piercing, "about Emma and Michael..."
"There's nothing between them," George said firmly. "Emma's heart has always belonged to me."
Tears welled up in Sophia's eyes. "I knew it. The way Emma looks at you, it's just like before."
While George was lost in the joy of reuniting with his daughter, a different scene was unfolding at the Lakeside Haven Police Department. In the interrogation room, the harsh light illuminated Phoenix's face, her makeup smeared, and her body covered in blood and wounds. Her hands were cuffed to the chair, but her eyes still held a trace of arrogance.
"Ms. Lewis, you're charged with assault and conspiracy. The evidence is clear. Do you have anything to say?" Detective Kurt Lowe threw a stack of photos on the table, showing her and Wanda plotting.
Phoenix glanced at them disdainfully. "I want to see my lawyer."
In the adjacent room, Wanda wasn't faring much better. She was trembling, her meticulously styled hair now a mess, and her expensive dress stained with blood. The most shocking sight was the tight bandages on her face.
Phoenix had disfigured her.
"Wanda, we have evidence of your and Phoenix's conspiracy. Confessing now might get you a lighter sentence," a young female officer tapped the table.
Wanda suddenly screamed hysterically, "Do you know who I am? How dare you treat me like this?"
In the police chief's office, smoke filled the air. Deputy Chief Allan Jennings was on a mysterious call, his expression growing more serious.
"Yes, I understand. George did make a call, but... Okay, I'll handle it."
Hanging up, Allan immediately dialed an internal line. "Put a hold on Wanda and Phoenix's case. Don't send it to the prosecutor's office yet."
Meanwhile, at the City Attorney's office, George's old political rival, Manuel Barnett, was leisurely sipping coffee. His secretary handed him a file. "Mr. Barnett, are you sure you want to hold back on Wanda and Phoenix's case? Won't this anger the Russell family?"
Manuel smiled knowingly. "The Russell family? George is finished. He can't even protect himself, let alone interfere with the judiciary. It's a joke."
The next morning, a heated debate erupted in the police department's conference room.
"The evidence is solid. The suspects' attitudes are terrible. They must be punished!" Kurt slammed the table.
Allan gave him a cold look. "Mr. Lowe, watch your tone. This case has special circumstances. Wanda has an alibi. Surveillance shows she was at a salon during the incident."
"What?" Kurt's eyes widened in disbelief. "We have George and his daughter's testimonies. We have witnesses!"
"His daughter is a minor, her testimony doesn't count. George is visually impaired, he can't be a witness. This case needs further investigation," Allan said firmly. "As for Phoenix, her actions don't constitute a crime. A few days in detention and some education will suffice. If Wanda provides a letter of forgiveness, Phoenix will be cleared."
The conference room door suddenly opened, and a representative from the prosecutor's office walked in. "Mr. Jennings, we've decided not to press charges."
Kurt stood up abruptly. "This is against protocol!"
The prosecutor handed over a document. "This is a directive from above. Also, George is under investigation by the FBI for judicial interference."
In the hallway, young officers whispered among themselves.
"Did you hear? George's political backer has been ousted."
"No wonder Wanda's getting off. Her backer is Mr. Barnett."
"Keep it down. The department is full of Barnett's people now."
In the holding cell, Phoenix was touching up her makeup in a small mirror. A female officer opened the door. "Phoenix, you're free to go."
Phoenix lifted her chin arrogantly. "I told you, you can't keep me here." She adjusted her collar with a smirk. "Tell George this isn't over."
In the next room, Wanda had already changed into new clothes brought by her maid and was taking selfies for social media. "Thanks for the concern, it was just a misunderstanding."
Outside the police station, a luxury car was waiting.
As the sun set, George stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in his office, listening to his assistant's report.
"Mr. Russell, our insider at the police station, has been reassigned. The case is lost."
George's clenched fist showed bulging veins, but his voice remained calm. "I understand."
The assistant hesitated. "And the FBI investigation..."
"Let them investigate," George said, his eyes sharp as knives. "Tell everyone to keep a low profile for now."
As night fell, the city's neon lights flickered on. Beneath the seemingly calm surface, tensions were rising.
Wanda returned to her apartment to find a gold-embossed invitation on the table.
The message was simple: Tonight at 8 PM, Cloud Top Club.
Wanda's fingers traced the raised gold lettering. Michael's personal seal glinted coldly in the light.
She hadn't completed the last task. Was Michael really going to kill her this time?
At 7:50 PM, Wanda, dressed in an emerald green velvet gown, arrived at the private suite on the top floor of the Cloud Top Club. As she opened the door, Michael stood with his back to her, his tall figure outlined by the city's neon lights.
"Sit," Michael said without turning, his voice as cold as ice.
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