Second Chance: Marrying into Wealth Chapter 184

"I knew it! No wonder Ms. Turner was so tough on me today, sticking up for Quinlan. Turns out you two are related. So, who are you planning to hire as a lawyer?"

Marlowe's voice suddenly cut through the air behind me.

I turned around and met her mocking gaze.

Her tone dripped with sarcasm, like she had been waiting for this moment.

Of course, she was friends with Jason. If she got him involved, my chances would be even slimmer.

I felt a bit disheartened, but I refused to let Marlowe get the better of me.

Marlowe seemed to read my emotions perfectly, her eyes gleaming with even more smugness, her smile almost arrogant.

But then, her gaze shifted to Christopher, who was standing not far from me, and her smugness vanished instantly.

Marlowe quickly changed her expression, regaining her usual composure. She smiled at Christopher, "Christopher, what brings you here?"

Her simple greeting made my heart sink again.

Dealing with Jason was already tough enough. If Christopher got involved too, it would be a guaranteed loss.

I felt a heavy weight in my chest, my head buzzing.

I couldn't focus on what they were saying anymore. I just wanted to see Quinlan as soon as possible. She was so young, and it was her first time at the police station. She must be terrified.

I also needed to know what exactly had happened.

What was the deal with Marlowe's brother? Did Quinlan know he was Marlowe's brother?

"Officer, I want to see Quinlan." I made the request again.

This time, the officer didn't make it difficult for me and allowed me to see Quinlan in the interview room.

The moment I saw Quinlan, I noticed her swollen face, and my expression darkened.

"Melinda..." Quinlan wasn't crying. She just looked so frail, her eyes filled with vulnerability, and my heart ached for her.

I rushed forward and grabbed her hand.

She reeked of alcohol. I had heard she was at a bar, and I could guess what might have happened.

She was probably forced to drink. The other half of her face, untouched by the beating, was flushed pink from the alcohol.

She fidgeted with her fingers, apologizing softly, "Melinda, I'm sorry for causing you trouble again."

"It's no trouble at all," I reassured her, patting the back of her hand. I wanted to touch her swollen face but was afraid of hurting her.

"Who hit you? Was it Marlowe?"

Only Marlowe would dare to be so ruthless, probably taking out all her anger from earlier today.

Quinlan shook her head quickly, "I quit my job. She can't control me anymore."

I suspected she was trying to avoid causing me more trouble.

But she didn't outright deny it, which meant it was indeed Marlowe who hit her.

Regardless, we needed to think this through carefully, and this wasn't the place to talk.

I asked the officer, "As Quinlan's guardian, if I sign the papers, can I take her home?"

The police were reasonable.

They had asked all the necessary questions and didn't make things difficult for us.

After getting our contact information, they let Quinlan go.

As we walked out of the interview room, I noticed Christopher and Marlowe standing three feet apart. Marlowe was busy on her phone, probably replying to messages.

I figured Christopher was giving her space out of respect.

I figured he wouldn't need me to take him home. He'd probably use this chance to take Marlowe home since it was getting late.

As I led Quinlan out of the station, I casually said, "Mr. Collins, we're heading out now."

Christopher frowned, his expression dark.

He immediately followed me, "I'm coming with you."

I opened my mouth to say something, but Marlowe, seemingly done with her messages, stepped forward and grabbed Christopher's arm, "Christopher, weren't you waiting for someone?"

Christopher didn't even glance at her, continuing to follow me, "They're here."

Marlowe's eyes flashed, her gaze lingering on me, uncertain, "You were waiting for Ms. Turner? Have you been together since you got off work?"

She was clearly shocked.

Not long ago, I might have explained to avoid any misunderstandings with Christopher.

But now, my impression of Marlowe was so bad that I didn't bother.

Christopher paused at Marlowe's question, his voice emotionless, "This isn't an interview."

Marlowe looked at Christopher with a hint of grievance, "Christopher..."

Christopher's expression remained indifferent, his words carrying authority, "Ms. Grey, it's best to leave some room for future encounters. Don't go too far. Let's end this here."

I was almost out of the station when I couldn't help but look back at Christopher.

My earlier worries and hidden frustration were soothed by his simple words.

More importantly, if Christopher could get Marlowe to back off, it would be good for Quinlan.

Marlowe, however, seemed unwilling to let it go, "Christopher, I'm not trying to make things difficult for her. But she schemed to get close to my brother today. Who knows what she might do to him in the future? My brother already has mental issues and is pitiful enough. If I let this slide, I'm afraid of the consequences."

"You keep saying she deliberately approached your brother. Do you have any evidence? If you do, no one will say anything, and you can let the police handle it. But if you don't, then it's just malicious speculation. Even if you pull strings, it won't change the fact that she's innocent."

Marlowe was playing dumb, even though Christopher had made it clear.

She still asked urgently, "Thank you for reminding me, Christopher. I'll gather evidence as soon as possible. I might not be able to do it alone, but I trust you, Christopher. You must know some great detectives, right? Can you introduce me to one?"

Christopher gave her a long look but didn't answer.

When I started the car and drove to the station entrance, Christopher ignored Marlowe and got into the back seat.

I was about to drive off when I glanced at Marlowe, who was stomping her foot in frustration, and couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Collins, it's late. Shouldn't you take Ms. Grey home?"

"No need! Jason will be here soon!"

He really trusted his friend with the person he liked. I couldn't tell if it was naivety or just being clueless about relationships.

No wonder they were good friends.

I couldn't understand how these two outstanding young men both fell for someone like Marlowe.

I was not jealous.

I just didn't get it.

Quinlan, who had been silent, suddenly spoke up, "Melinda, I sent my address to your phone. You can just drop me off at my place."

But I refused firmly, "You're staying at my place tonight."

I wasn't about to let her stay alone tonight.