NTR: Mommy Will Help You! 302. Are You Threatening an Officer?!

Shortly after, multiple police cars screeched to a halt and parked close to the chaos. Officers jumped out, drew their pistols, and trained them on Elle and her men, who remained utterly composed despite the barrels pointed their way.

The sight that greeted the cops was gruesome: corpses strewn across the highway amid the twisted metal and debris from smashed vehicles.

Without the helicopter touching down beside them and the squad of heavily equipped soldiers emerging from it, the police would have opened fire immediately.

"HOLD IT! Drop your weapons RIGHT NOW!" the lead officer bellowed, gun steady on them. "This is a major crime scene! We want explanations! All of you, come with us to the station and tell us what happened!"

But no one obeyed; Elle stepped ahead coolly instead, her rifle slung over her shoulder, addressing him fearlessly.

"Officer, I can give you all the answers you need. But you'd better lower that gun first—my team won't hold back against anyone aiming at my boss. Not after everything that went down."

"What kind of rubbish is that!?" the cop yelled, demanding, "Are you threatening a police officer? What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

Elle flashed a sly grin, cocking her head, then replied, "Believe me when I say one word from me could wipe you all out? That's exactly what'll happen if you don't stand down now. That's my guarantee."

The officer's rage boiled over at her bold, haughty words. How could she dare issue such threats? Did she have no clue about the repercussions?

Before he could fire back, Elle's men behind her shouldered their rifles, sighting in on him and his team. A chill ran down his spine at the sight—he'd clearly misjudged the danger.

A nearby cop stammered nervously, "Captain... maybe we should hear her out... They're offering to assist and work with us on this mess."

"Quiet, idiot!" the captain snapped at his underling, who recoiled. Deep down, though, he got the point: no sense clashing with folks who fought dirty.

"Tch, fine, you got it," the captain grumbled, holstering his weapon while glaring at Elle. "Care to join us at the station and clue us in on this madness? I've got corpses everywhere, and your chopper shows up with armed goons spilling out."

Elle dipped her head agreeably. "Of course, officer. We'll gladly assist however we can."

Soon, sleek black sedans rolled up to the site, and suited figures emerged, making straight for Oliver and his crew.

Oliver spotted the group's head, flanked by aides, as John, Ashford Global Enterprises' star attorney. They exchanged greetings, piled into the cars, and drove off to the precinct.

Meanwhile, officers managed the cleanup: cordoning the zone, clearing debris, and processing the gangsters' remains.

At the station, they were ushered into a bare room lined with chairs. The guiding cop invited them to sit anywhere, and Oliver did just that.

"Mr. Oliver, the chief's waiting for you shortly. I've briefed them, so expect no issues." John assured him, eyeing the others. "Relax—I've got this handled."

Relieved by John's confidence, Oliver nodded, content to let the sharp lawyer manage it all.

Maya beside him leaned close, gripping his hand firmly.

She trembled from the prior terror, the horror replaying sharply in her thoughts. Without Oliver's steady nerve through it all, she'd have been lost.

The other women felt it too—ordinary folks thrust into peril from their quiet lives. Timely rescue had saved them; fate might've been far crueler.

Sensing their unease, Oliver soothed them. "Girls, relax now. No more threats. It's all handled."

They nodded mutely, steadying themselves from the trauma.

After a hushed wait, the door swung open to reveal a portly, balding officer. "Mr. John, chief's set for Mr. Oliver. This way, please."

John rose, guiding Oliver out as the cop held the door.

The others remained, since only Oliver had to recount the events to the chief.