<h4>Chapter 522: Chapter 522: This Is the Murderer</h4>


    Maxwell Saxon showed a hint of surprise in his eyes: "You want to let her go?"


    "Yes, Young Master, could you not hold her ountable? Or if you have to, can she avoid prison time?" Scarlett Yates pleaded with him, her eyes full of imploring.


    Maxwell Saxon seemed as if he couldn’t understand her, remained silent for a moment, then frowned, "Have you considered that if I hadn’t been there, and she had stabbed you in the chest, you could have been in mortal danger?"


    "I know."


    "So why ask me to let her go?"


    "Let’s just say I owe her."


    "What is this all about? Miss Yates, asking me to release someone, you ought to exin the situation to me."


    Scarlett hesitated for a moment and then told Maxwell Saxon the full story: "That’s about it."


    Maxwell Saxon listened in silence, frowning slightly, as if pondering something. After a while, his deep and dark eyes fixed on Scarlett, and he said seriously, "Miss Yates, ording to what you said, she attacked you out of hatred. Even if I let her go, that hatred will remain in her heart - she won’t be grateful to you."


    "Her first failed attempt might leave her dissatisfied, and there could be a next time. You’ll be in great danger; do you still want me to release her?"


    "If possible..."


    "Miss Yates, being too soft-hearted isn’t necessarily a good thing. Although what Matthew did was somewhat excessive, it’s done and can’t be changed. If you still insist on me releasing her, I will respect your opinion."


    Scarlett thought seriously for a moment, then nodded, "Yes, please let her go this time, Young Master."


    Maxwell Saxon seemed to have anticipated her response. He shook his head and gently sighed, "Alright, as per your wish."


    "Thank you, Young Master."


    --


    Twenty minutester, the car stopped outside the police station.


    Scarlett followed Maxwell Saxon, and two uniformed police officers led them to a detention room.


    The police were very courteous to Maxwell Saxon; one opened the door and respectfully gestured invitingly: "Mr. Saxon, please enter."


    She was about to meet the so-called assant.


    Scarlett took a deep breath and paused for a few seconds outside the door, then slowly walked in behind Maxwell Saxon.


    At a long table, a person sat there, with a police officer standing on each side.


    Upon hearing the door open and footsteps, the person suddenly looked up.


    A very ordinary face, the kind with features somon that one wouldn’t look twice in a crowd; short hair, very thin, a pair of eyescking spirit briefly nced at Maxwell Saxon and Scarlett, then slowly lowered again.


    Is this the assant?


    Scarlett stood at the door, stunned, staring at the person.


    She blinked, then widened her eyes a bit more, afraid she had seen incorrectly.


    Indeed, the person was a man, a man she had never seen before.


    "Miss Yates." Maxwell Saxon turned his head, his thin lips slightly curving, pointing at the person, "This is the assant. He confessed to everything. If you have any questions, you may ask him now."


    "He’s the assant?" Scarlett incredulously drew back her surprised gaze from the man. After the shock, she quickly calmed down, soon working out some things in her mind.