Chapter 209

Chapter 209

Emily pointed to the seat beside her, "Perfect timing, why don't you sit down and try the desserts here with me? Captain Brown, you're so busy every day, I bet you haven't tried the little cakes from this place either, right?"

She handed over the juice in front of her that she hadn't opened yet.

William blurted out without thinking, "I'm not really into desserts."

The statement seemed harmless enough, but the more you thought about it, the more unsettling it became.

Emily couldn't help but look at William suspiciously. What did he mean by that?

He wasn't into desserts, so did that mean he came here today specifically to buy them for her?

Emily looked at the menu in front of her and carefully introduced each item to him, "These are all my favorites. If you don't like sweet things, try this plain tiramisu—it's really good."

Under Emily's watchful gaze, William skeptically picked up his utensils and took a small taste.

After all these years, he had forgotten that since Nolan's death, he hadn't eaten any desserts, because Elara had fallen ill too.

Back when he was young, when his parents were both still well, William would receive a homemade cake from Elara every birthday.

Although those cakes couldn't compare in appearance to the ones sold in fancy dessert shops, they were filled with a mother's love—something no amount of money could buy.

William stared at the dessert in front of him with deep emotion in his eyes, "The taste is actually pretty good. Your taste is as excellent as always."

"Of course."

Emily's expression gradually softened. She held a cup of hot cocoa, took a sip, then put it down, "You don't know—when I heard Bronte's descriptions, I felt like my whole worldview was turned upside down. What shocked me was..."

She didn't think Bronte was completely evil. Actually, she could understand her first attack on her first husband.

But why, when there were so many other paths she could have taken, did Bronte choose a dead end?

If Bronte had started out wanting to live a decent life and found herself a proper man instead of some street thug, her son probably wouldn't have gotten into trouble, right?

"No one in this world is born a demon, except for those with antisocial personality disorder. They can't feel love from childhood and can't understand that emotions exist in this world. You don't need to be misled by Bronte's words—some of what she said might be lies she made up herself."

William gazed sincerely into Emily's eyes, his voice gentle.

He knew that as a woman, Emily would naturally feel some empathy for Bronte after hearing her story.

But the first killing could be excused as being forced into it—what about the second and third times?

And Stanley's wife!

According to Stanley, if Bronte and her family hadn't approached him first, he might still be hauling bricks at construction sites with no way to get ahead.

In Stanley's heart, he was grateful to Bronte—after all, she had brought him a better life. But after everything was exposed, Bronte showed her demonic claws.

"You don't know what our colleagues discovered following Celestia during this time."

William spoke deliberately, gesturing for Emily to look at his phone.

A series of photos flashed across the screen showing rural houses and buildings. Emily had previously seen files on Stanley's home, so she immediately recognized that little rundown house with the red roof.

"Over a dozen bombs were buried around her house. If our people hadn't discovered them in time, who knows what disaster would have happened!"

William's tone became somewhat agitated. He tapped lightly on the table, "You should know—no criminal deserves sympathy."

Emily collected herself and looked up at William, "Actually, I'm not sympathizing with Bronte. I just think that people are products of society. The fact that their village produced so many criminals also means that place is truly impoverished and backward. If they had a healthy path for development, maybe they wouldn't have gone astray."

She empathized with every ordinary person who hadn't received proper education.

None of these criminals were innocent, but at the same time, none of them had perfect, happy families either.

By the time Emily and William came out of the private room, it was already 2:30 in the morning.

Who knows when staying up late had become their daily habit.

William packed up a few cups of coffee and carried them to the car, "Let's go, I'll take you home to rest first, then I'll bring these coffees over to Joshua and the others."

"It's so late and everyone's working overtime. If I go home to rest, wouldn't that look kind of bad?"

Emily stood still, hesitating about whether to go home or not.

Before she knew it, William had stepped on the gas and driven her right to her doorstep.

When she came to her senses and saw the familiar street scene outside, she asked teasingly, "You're in such a hurry to send me home to rest—you're not worried I'll steal your credit, are you? So you don't want me to keep working overtime at the station? After all, my abilities are pretty well-known!"

The breeze gently lifted the messy strands of hair on Emily's forehead. Her beautiful face was now full of exhaustion.

When Emily first came to the police station, she was unforgettable at first sight!

That lovely, charming face was deeply imprinted in everyone's hearts.

Everyone had joked back then that a beauty had joined the police force.

How long had it been? Emily had become so exhausted—it was truly heartbreaking to see.

"This case is basically wrapped up for now. We have both witnesses and evidence, so they can't overturn it. What's left is waiting for Alfonso and the others to bring the person back from Lumaria. You can get a good night's sleep."

William spoke deliberately, then bent down and gentlemanly helped Emily unbuckle her seatbelt.

He was used to being casual and habitually took care of those around him.

This small gesture seemed like nothing to William.

But Emily instinctively moved to push William's hand away, and inadvertently touched the back of his hand.

Their eyes met, gazing into each other's.

The air around them seemed to freeze in that instant. Emily drew in a sharp breath.

She laughed awkwardly and unbuckled the seatbelt herself, "I'm not a three-year-old kid—you don't need to take care of me like this, right? You should go back and rest well too. There's still a lot to do coming up. Tomorrow Jonathan has to sit in on Bronte's interrogation!"

As Emily was getting out of the car, William's voice came from behind her.

"The cake I bought for you."