Chapter134 A Step Too Late
Zachary Bailey made a beeline towards Winona Sullivan...
The thugs Austin had knocked down were still curled up on the ground, not due to heavy injuries but from sheer fear, the memory of their comrade kicked away like a soccer ball fresh in their minds.
Most people instinctively avoid obstacles, but not Zachary Bailey. Without a glance, he kicked aside anything in his path, eliciting another agonized howl.
His expressionless face and the aura he exuded made him seem devilish.
The others quickly made themselves scarce, rolling away to clear a broad path for him.
Stopping, Zachary looked down at the two elongated shadows on the ground, one belonging to Winona, the other to Austin. Two distinct silhouettes, now so closely intertwined, they were indistinguishable from the darkness behind them.
Suppressing the restless impulse bubbling up within him, he diverted his gaze back to the woman's pallid face and extended a hand toward her, "Get up."
Austin caught Zachary Bailey's hand before Winona Sullivan could respond. "Mr. Bailey, here to play the knight in shining armor? Quite the coincidence, me too. But you know, had it not been for me, by now you'd be looking at a corpse, not a damsel."
There was a touch of satire in the way he tipped his chin, insinuating someone's late arrival.
Zachary Bailey gave him a chilly glance, pausing for a half-second before saying, "Thanks."
That word sliced into Austin's chest like a blade, wiping the smirk off his face and replacing it with a displeased chill. "I didn't save you; that 'thank you' shouldn't be yours to give."
"You did save Mrs. Bailey, so my gratitude is due. Not only that, I'll cover the hospital expenses," Zachary Bailey said with a faint smile, adding casually, "And if you have any other demands, feel free to voice them."
Austin was on the verge of exploding with irritation at the man's demeanor!
Amidst the escalating tension, the piercing sound of sirens grew closer. Two police cars pulled up, and the officers got out.
One of the men sprawled on the ground scrambled to his feet, wailing and pleading, "Help! They're gonna kill us!"
The police took note of the few men lying on the ground, then fixed their eyes on Zachary Bailey, standing firm, "Who made the call?"
"It was me," Austin said as he stood up. "My friend was ambushed by these guys right outside her company. They even had weapons. If I hadn't arrived when I did, she'd be dead now."
"No, no, we just thought the lady was pretty and wanted to have a chat!"
With the police present, the group grew bold again. Frequent run-ins with the law had taught them that, given the circumstances, the police would likely detain them for only a few days, "We're good guys, just a bit scary-looking. As if we'd dare to kill! Besides, it was that woman who started the fight—check the surveillance if you don't believe us!"
This time, they weren't the first to strike, which made them speak with bold assurance, standing straighter than usual.
The officer glanced at the group and made up his mind, "Take everyone in for statements. Contact View Studio for surveillance footage."
At the police station, the group was separated for questioning. Zachary Bailey was the first to finish; by the time he arrived, the incident had already ended, which was corroborated by his car's dashcam footage.
Standing at the doorway, Zachary peered through the glass at the thugs who sat casually inside, seemingly indifferent to the police interrogation. He asked the person beside him, expressionless, "Got anything? Who's behind this?"
"These guys insisted they were just hitting on a pretty girl, claiming they did nothing to Mrs. Bailey, that it was just some verbal flirting," they said with conviction.
Zachary Bailey sneered, repeating the phrase with disdain, “Verbal flirting?”
The last incident had been days ago, right near her apartment. Now, this pack had somehow tracked her down to View Studio, conveniently running into Winona Sullivan who had been working overtime.
"Hand them over to me."
The officer hesitated, only then realizing what Zachary Bailey meant. "Mr. Bailey, that's not quite right. "
Zachary's cool gaze swept over him. "I'll do the questioning. Once I'm done, everything — testimony and individuals — will be returned untouched. You'll still get the credit."
...
The surveillance footage from View Studio was obtained. Although it showed Winona Sullivan throwing the first punch, she was the victim and hadn't actually hurt anyone, so she was free to go after giving her statement.
Stepping out of the interrogation room, she saw Zachary Bailey waiting and furrowed her brows slightly. Turning to the officer who had taken her statement, she asked, "Where's my friend? Austin."
"Mr. Robinson needs to wait a bit longer. The other party's requested a medical examination. We have to wait for the results to know when he can leave."
"Okay, got it," Winona nodded.
Zachary's eyes landed on her hand, which bore red marks from being restrained. In the dim light of the parking lot, he hadn't seen them, but now the marks appeared rather haunting.
He frowned, wanting to say something but eventually swallowed his words, simply advising, "Move back in."
Winona sat down on a bench in the hallway. "They came for me specifically; where I live won't change that."
They had shown up at her apartment before, and now they had cornered her at View Studio during her overtime — it was clear they had been following her.
"I'll arrange for a bodyguard to accompany you. The security system at Regal Oaks is better than your apartment building."
There was a greater risk in an apartment complex, even with increased patrols. But Regal Oaks was a private estate, all his, accessible only to his people.
Judging by the caliber of their opponents, he deduced that the person behind this lacked significant influence was and their reach would not extend very far.
"No..." Winona insisted, shaking her head.
The warmth in Zachary Bailey's face turned to ice with her refusal. “Or perhaps,” he added coldly, "you prefer having a few guys guarding your door all day."
She understood his implication: If she didn't move back, he'd post bodyguards at her doorstep, following her every move, just like before.
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