The next morning, Lana arrived as usual to deliver breakfast to Charlotte. As she reached the front of the building, she spotted that familiar Rolls–Royce parked by the entrance.

The chauffeur stepped out to open the rear door, and Evander emerged, fastening the buttons on his suit jacket with practiced ease.

Lana gave him a respectful nod. “Good morning, sir.”

Evander’s gaze drifted to the insted food container in her hands. His tone was calm, almost indifferent. “Who’s the meal for?”

“Uh… it’s for Mrs. Sterling.” Lana’s expression was awkward–she’d promised not to mention anything.

But if Mr. Sterling asked directly…

He fell silent for a moment, a faint crease forming between his brows. “Is something wrong with her?”

Lana snuck a nce at him. How could he not know his own wife was in the hospital? The more she thought about it, the more sorry she felt for Charlotte. These two young newlyweds–who knew what silent standoff they were locked in? One refused to speak, and the other seemed utterly unbothered.

“She’s been admitted to the hospital. I’m just bringing her breakfast.”

“Hospitalized?” Evander’s face darkened a shade. “Since when?”

“Three days ago,” Lana said quickly, noticing his expression. “Mrs. Sterling didn’t want to worry you, so she made me promise not to tell.”

Suddenly, a small, wry smile tugged at his lips. “She told you that?”

Lana blinked, then nodded honestly. That was more or less what Charlotte had said.

He gave a soft grunt. “I see. Go on, then.”

Lana took the container and, seeing that he made no move to rush to the hospital, hesitated as if wanting to say more–but thought better of it. She hurried away, her heart a little heavy.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, police officers arrived to take Charlotte’s statement and record the details of the incident.

They briefed Charlotte on the suspect’s background: a history of mental illness, multiple violent episodes, and documented incidents across several districts.

Charlotte sat in stunned silence for a long time, confusion clouding her features. “But… even if he was having a psychotic episode, how did he manage to find the hospital so precisely–and find me?”

The two officers exchanged a look. She wasn’t the only one who found it strange. If not for the testimony from other precincts and the psychiatric evaluations confirming uncontroble violent behavior, even they would have suspected he was faking.

“Ms. Sterling, we’ll do our best to help you negotiate with his family,” one officer exined. “Since this involves a mentally ill individual, we can’t open a criminal case. Even if you pursue legal action, the court will only mediatepensation.”

“The suspect’s family has already agreed to a settlement. If you’re willing, we’ll proceed with the paperwork.”

Charlotte lowered her gaze. After a deep breath, she nodded. “Alright, let’s do it.”

The officers had barely left when Lana arrived with breakfast.

She set the tray on the table, hovering uncertainly as she watched Charlotte, clearly wanting to say something.

Charlotte noticed, and smiled up at her. “Lana, if you have something on your mind, just say it.”

“Ma’am, I… I ran into Mr. Sterling on my way here.”

Charlotte paused, her expression calm as ever. “Did you?”

“He asked, so I told him you’re in the hospital…” Lana was never good at lying; she couldn’t keep secrets to save her life and never tried to. That unvarnished honesty was the reason Charlotte had chosen her over the dozens of highly qualified housekeepers. By the standards of experience and education, Lana couldn’tpete, but she was straightforward–give her her pay, and she’d do her job without scheming.

Charlotte sighed, a little resigned. “It’s fine. If you told him, you told him. I’m not upset with you.”

Hearing this, Lana finally breathed easy.

At the police station, the suspect’s family had already signed the settlement

paperwork and were waiting outside to take their son home.

They were numb to his violent episodes by now, as long as their only child could avoid jail, they were content to solve everything with money. After all, as the sole heir, even if he killed someone, he’d never see the inside of a prison cell.

Natalie stepped out of her car, nked by a team ofwyers, and entered the station. After more than ten minutes inside, a police officer emerged to address the couple. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go home for now. The suspect can’t be released today.”

The woman’s face changed instantly. “What do you mean? We agreed to the settlement, and the victim isn’t pressing charges. How can you go back on your word?”

Her husband’s expression turned sour as well. “Get your chief out here! I want an exnation face to face. Do you really think we’re going to let this slide?”

The officer could only look at them in exasperation. They knew their son was unwell and still let him roam free–who was really to me?

“This isn’t about disrespecting Commissioner Yates,” the officer said tly. “It’s just that your son picked the wrong person to mess with this time.”