Chapter 929:

She stepped away from Shaba and allowed the officers to cuff her hands.

Shaba gave a low, frustrated growl and slipped back through the shattered picture window toward the trees.

Police escorted Rylie, Deandre, and the rescued wealthy guests to the station.

Deandre had no intention of accepting custody quietly. He was already working through options, mixing muscle with strategy.

Inside the transport vehicle, he leaned close and murmured, “We have a team waiting past the reserve. They’ll send spike strips and take the cruiser. We’ll be out before anyone notices.”

Rylie shook her head. “Not happening. I refuse to run.”

Deandre guessed aloud, “This is because of Brad, right?”

She gave him a small, knowing smile. “I came for what happened at Everswell. My aim goes beyond stopping their hunts.”

Deandre frowned. “What else are you going to do?”

Rylie’s fingers found the camera button on her chest as she looked down, her expression sharpening. “I will set a reckoning in motion.”

Memories of the specimens flickered through her mind, and her stare turned cold. “I want every guilty person exposed. I want the lives they stole to stand as proof.”

Deandre felt her fury and squeezed her hand. “I’m with you, every step of the way.”

As Rylie was escorted into the patrol car, Storm zipped the last of his gear and spoke into the radio. “Britton, let the lawyer know it’s time to head for the station.”

“Got it,” Britton answered.

Inside the police station, tension hung thick in the air.

Word spread quickly to the families of Felipe and the others.

Within hours, powerful parents—anxious for their children—crowded the premises. Those stuck overseas joined via video calls, demanding constant updates from the authorities. Their lawyers arrived in record time, quick to spin the story and shield the young heirs from blame. Every accusation was redirected toward Deandre and Rylie, stacking the charges like a wall: unlawful entry, armed assault, and worse.

In the interrogation room, Rylie and Deandre sat across from a row of uniformed officers and several high-ranking officials whose presence made the power imbalance unmistakable.

“Mr. Owen. Miss Owen.” The senior inspector’s voice rang out as he dropped a thick file on the metal table. “You’re charged with unlawful trespass, possession of restricted weaponry, and murder.”

He slid a set of photographs forward, his tone sharp enough to cut. “Eight dead. Multiple wounded. These men were of high standing. Care to explain yourselves?”

Deandre leaned back in his chair, somehow still looking like a man in control despite the cuffs biting into his wrists. “There’s not much to explain,” he said coolly. “We saw cruelty and stopped it. That’s all.”

Rylie’s tone remained calm as she met the senior inspector’s sharp gaze. “I acted in defense. They were about to kill a girl, and I stepped in to protect her.”

The inspector flipped through his papers with a hard slap of the file. “We’ve already spoken with the injured girl’s father,” he said flatly. “He claims you nearly shot her. You lured him to the reserve under the pretext of finding his lost daughter, then tried to kill her, didn’t you?”

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