Victoria took the phone without a word. The three of them then stepped out of the NYPD building, greeted by daylight and the constant roar of traffic.
"Have you eaten, Emma?" Aron asked as they stood on the sidewalk.
Emma shook her head slightly.
"Why don't we eat first?" Aron continued. "Don't worry, it's on me."
Emma nodded, agreeing without much comment. Aron looked around, searching for a nearby restaurant.
"Come on, let's go there."
Emma walked beside Victoria, following behind Aron as he led the way. However, just as they passed the NYPD building, a black SUV suddenly stopped at the curb right beside them.
The car doors opened at the same time.
Four men in dark jackets rushed out, their movements fast and coordinated.
"You're coming with us!" one of them shouted.
Emma flinched. Her face turned pale as she quickly hid behind Victoria.
"You're bold to commit a crime in broad daylight," Aron said, his tone calm but firm.
"Stay out of this. Move aside!" the man barked.
Aron slowly raised both hands, then stepped slightly to the side. "Be careful with my assistant," he said, as if issuing a warning.
The man in front curled his lips into a sneer. His hand lifted, ready to shove Victoria aside.
But suddenly, his body was hurled forward, crashing face-first onto the middle of the road. It happened so fast that a car was forced to brake abruptly.
A loud crash shattered the air.
Another vehicle failed to stop in time and slammed into the back of the first. Not long after, yet another car collided from behind, throwing the street into chaos.
The three remaining men in jackets froze at the roadside. Their faces were filled with shock, as if they couldn't comprehend how their companion had been flung that far without anyone touching him.
At the same time, several police officers began pouring out of the NYPD building, drawn by the crash and the commotion.
Seeing the situation, the three men acted quickly. They ran into the street, lifted their unconscious companion, and dragged him back into the black SUV in a panic.
Without waiting any longer, the doors slammed shut. The engine roared to life, and the SUV sped away, disappearing into the flow of traffic before the police could approach.
The street gradually fell silent again, leaving only the sound of sirens and the bewildered stares of onlookers who had begun to gather.
Aron grinned as he looked at Victoria. "Wow," he said simply, clearly impressed by what had just happened.
"They asked for it," Victoria replied casually.
She then turned toward Emma, who was still frozen in place, her face clearly confused, as if her mind had not yet caught up with what had just happened so quickly.
"Are you okay?" Victoria asked gently.
Emma nodded, her eyes still wide.
"Don't worry," Aron said, trying to reassure her. "You're safe with us. Now let's go. My stomach is already demanding to be filled."
"Same here," Victoria chimed in.
"Me too," Emma added softly.
In the end, Aron chose a small restaurant well known for its burgers. Not long after their order arrived, Victoria immediately took a bite of the cheeseburger, clearly enjoying it.
"Wow… this burger is really delicious," she said honestly.
"Brooklyn has a lot of great burger places," Emma replied. "Pizza too."
"That's one of my favorite foods as well," Victoria said with a smile.
"You should try the pizza at the place where I work," Emma continued. "It's an Italian recipe. Really good."
"Is it far from here?" Victoria asked.
"Not far. By subway, it's less than fifteen minutes."
"What do you use to deliver pizza?" Aron asked.
"A bicycle," Emma replied with a faint smile. "I saved up and worked hard for almost six months just to buy it."
"Do you have any other jobs?" Aron asked again.
"I don't have a permanent job," Emma answered honestly. "Everything I do is part-time. During the day, I work as a restaurant server for five hours. After that, I arrange packages at a delivery company. At night, I deliver pizza."
Aron looked at her for a moment before asking, "What about your dream?"
Emma fell silent briefly. "I've tried sending my original songs to several recording studios. But it's been over a year… and there's been no response. I can't keep waiting. I still need to work."
Her words were simple, yet they painted a clear picture of how harsh life had been as she struggled to chase a dream that still felt far out of reach.
"When Andrew was released, the detective advised me to withdraw the accusation because of the lack of evidence," she continued. "He said Andrew would sue me if the case was closed."
"They'll always threaten you with a lawsuit," Aron replied calmly. "But it's mostly pressure to force you into stating that your accusation was false."
"And if I refuse?" Emma asked, her voice trembling.
"Then they'll actually sue you," Aron answered honestly. "That is, if they're confident they can win. The legal system in this country usually sides with the victim, especially in rape cases."
"But… there's no evidence," Emma said hopelessly.
"Who says there isn't?"
Victoria suddenly spoke up. Aron and Emma turned to her at the same time.
"You forgot about your phone," Victoria continued.
"My phone?" Emma looked confused.
"When you entered the singer's house, you secretly recorded," Victoria explained. "While he went to get the money, and after he came back. You forgot to stop the recording."
Emma immediately stood up from her chair, startling several customers in the restaurant.
"Yes," she said, her breathing slightly fast. "I did record it."
"Do you have any relatives or friends here?" Aron asked seriously.
Emma sat back down and slowly shook her head.
"Then you'll have to come back with us," Aron said firmly. "I can't let you stay alone. They will definitely come back."
"Who are 'they'?" Emma asked.
"I'm not entirely sure," Aron replied honestly. "But I'm certain the men earlier were hired by the singer's recording company."
Emma lowered her head, her fingers clasped tightly together on the table.
"Don't worry," Victoria said, her voice softer. "Now you have strong evidence."
Emma looked up at Victoria. "But… we haven't even watched the recording yet."
Victoria smiled with confidence. "Just trust us."
She continued, her tone shifting to something more strategic. "If they know you're holding strong evidence, they'll have no choice but to offer compensation. At that point, you can decide—accept the money or proceed with the charges."
Emma fell silent, clearly deep in thought.
"If I were in your position," Victoria added casually, "I'd set two conditions. First, accept the compensation. Second—the artist must sing a song you wrote."
Emma's expression changed instantly. Her eyes widened, as if the suggestion had opened a door she had never imagined before.
"I'll follow your advice," she said.
***
Williamsburg
Three men rushed out of a black SUV and headed straight into an old building that looked gloomy from the outside. Their steps were quick, their faces tight with tension.
The moment they passed through the automatic doors bearing the sign Old Street Records, they immediately took the stairs to the second floor without looking back.
In front of an office, the door was knocked on several times—impatiently—before being pushed open without waiting for permission.
"How did it go?" asked a heavyset man sitting behind a desk, his voice deep and impatient.
The three men in dark jackets didn't answer right away. They stepped fully inside before the door was shut tightly behind them.
"We failed, boss."
"What?" The heavyset man sprang to his feet. "The three of you couldn't even bring in one girl?"
He paused, then added, "Wait… where's Brush?"
"At the hospital."
"What happened?"
One of the men swallowed before answering. "We're not sure, boss. Everything happened too fast. Somehow, Brush was thrown into the middle of the road when we were trying to take the girl."
The heavyset man slammed his palm down on the desk.
"I told you—no violence. Bring the girl in properly!"
The three men lowered their heads, not daring to respond.
"Did someone help her?" the man asked again, his tone now more controlled.
"Yes. A man and a woman."
The heavyset man ran a hand through his hair several times before sitting back down. His face creased with worry, clearly thinking about something far bigger than the failed attempt.
"No matter what," he said quietly but firmly, "we have to appease that girl. Otherwise… this record label could collapse."
At that moment, the office door opened.
A man with long hair falling past his shoulders stepped inside. His neck and arms were covered in tattoos, his movements relaxed, yet the pressure of his presence filled the room. His eyes swept over the three men in jackets, one by one.
"Where's the girl?" he asked coldly.
No one answered.
His gaze shifted between them and the heavyset man seated behind the desk, his expression clearly confused—and displeased.
The heavyset man let out a long sigh.
"Why do you always cause trouble, Andrew?"
"I already explained it to you," Andrew replied, his tone hard yet casual. "Everything happened by accident."
He leaned against the office wall, his expression calm, as if the matter being discussed had no effect on him at all. Andrew was no stranger to fame—he was one of the indie rock singers currently at the peak of his popularity.
"There's no such thing as an accident in a rape case," the heavyset man snapped. "Try saying that to the police."
Andrew let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Why are you the one panicking? There's no evidence. So what's the problem? Just bring the girl here. I know how to persuade her."
"And if she refuses?" the man asked, clearly uneasy.
"Then we sue," Andrew replied without hesitation. "I'm confident she has nothing to prove it."
The heavyset man stared at him for a long moment before speaking. "Don't forget… you slapped her."
Andrew nodded slowly, still showing no trace of remorse. "You're forgetting one thing too," he said coldly.
"The police commissioner's daughter… is my devoted fan."