134 Playing Pretend
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He didn’t say a word.
Maxwell started twitching.
‘Mr Laurent, I was just–this is just a business dinner. I’ve been doing due diligence. Research. Vetting suppliers. Logistics firms, you know-‘
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
His face was still blotchy from the whisky, but the colour had drained from around his mouth.
Getting no reply from his boss’s boss, Maxwell tried again. ‘Such a pleasant surprise for you to join us, Mr Laurent. Why don’t we all sit down, talk it through—‘
‘Yes, yes!‘ Franklin jumped in. ‘Please, let’s sit! Preston, order more food–quickly!‘
Maxwell bent so low I thought he might kiss Ashton’s shoes. He gestured at the table with both hands. ‘Please. Sir, make yourself comfortable–‘
Ashton didn’t move. He looked at Maxwell’s hands the same way an executioner at the guillotine might eye a condemned man’s
neck.
Maxwell hesitated. He looked down at his hands as if searching for blood stains. Then he tried to shove them behind his back.
But Ashton grabbed his meaty wrist.
His grip tightened slowly, steadily, until the tendons in Gary’s wrist started pushing against his skin.
‘Mr Laurent?‘ Maxwell was in pain, sweat pouring down his face.
‘Which hand touched my wife?‘
Maxwell gulped, mouth open. ‘Wife? What wife? I don’t–I mean, who-‘
I cleared my throat, loud enough to turn heads.
Then I raised my hand like I was back in Year Nine maths class.
‘Me,‘ I said. ‘I’m the wife.‘
Franklin almost dislocated his neck, whipping around so fast.
I pointed at Maxwell’s arm. ‘Wrong hand. It was the left.‘
Ashton grabbed the man’s left wrist and twisted hard.
A loud snap cracked through the room.
Maxwell screamed. His knees buckled.
Franklin and Preston jumped back like someone had fired a gun.
I flinched too.
The angle of Maxwell’s hand was all wrong, bent backwards with knuckles pointing towards his elbow.
I winced and turned away.
That wrist was not coming back from that.
Maxwell sat on the floor in a heap, blinking at his damaged wrist like he couldn’t believe his
eyes.
Then the full extent of the pain, dulled by alcohol, finally hit him.
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Chapter 134 Playing Pretend
He started screaming.
And kept screaming.
He clutched his arm, mouth wide, face white as a sheet.
His howling bounced off the walls, sharp and high and desperate, like a dog being disembowelled.
He didn’t roll around, but it looked like he wanted to.
His voice, when he managed to find it, was high–pitched and wheezing. ‘M–Mr Laurent, it’s a misunderstanding. I didn’t mean anything… I didn’t touch her, I swear!‘
I cut him off, ‘You grabbed me in front of half the room, and now it’s a misunderstanding?‘
He shook his head. ‘I wasn’t trying to grab you. It was a handshake
‘Was it?‘ I smiled.
He flinched like I’d pulled a knife.
‘I was invited by Vance Overland. By your father. We were discussing business. That’s all. I wouldn’t–I mean, I didn’t-‘
His eyes flicked to Franklin, desperate for help.
Franklin didn’t move.
He stared at the floor like it might offer him an escape route.
I shrugged. ‘Setting aside the grope disguised as a handshake, there’s a more important issue at stake. Mr Maxwell here accepted a bribe. He was this close to settling the kickback terms before dessert. Not his first time, either. He’s skimmed at least nine figures over the years.‘
I looked at Ashton. ‘That’s straight from the horse’s mouth. LGH had an internal audit department, right? Might want to ask them to look into that.‘
Maxwell’s forehead was drenched.
Sweat soaked the collar of his shirt and ran down his temples like he’d just crawled out of a sauna in a suit.
?
“That’s not true,‘ he protested weakly. ‘I’ve worked at LGH for years. I’ve always followed the rules. I was just joking. Must’ve been the wine… Someone misunderstood. Right, Franklin?‘
Chapter 135 Arrest ThemAH
