Chapter 97 Would You Divorce Me?
“Correct me if I’m mistaken, Mr. Lane, but just a few days ago, you made it clear that you would rather hand over Landon to Arnold Cartier than give me a chance, Dexter chuckled softly, his face clouding over in the dim lighting.
Martin swallowed, narrowing his eyes. “Mr. Russell, let’s be honest here. I could easily use Alex’s injury assessment to take your employee to court. You won’t even have the time to contend with me anymore.”
Thinking of Josic, Dexter’s usually expressionless face changed slightly. He set down his cup and asked. “Mr. Lane, do you know where your brother took Justin Warren out from?”
“Who is Justin Warren?” Martin couldn’t even follow where Dexter’s question was leading him to.
“He is the person that started all these, Dexter reminded.
“Where?”
“My hotel, Mandarin Oriental. Dexter, the man always under control, revealed a sinister smile. “Your brother has been doing all the illegal deeds. He has blood stains all over his hands from all these years, not to mention usury. I could expose him with the proof of him engaging in violence and debt collection
alone.”
Martin hadn’t been handling things personally for years, so it wasn’t surprising that he was unaware of Dexter’s capability. He snorted, “Mr. Russell, don’t forget. I have connections.”
“Mr. Lane, there’s a reason why Mandarin Oriental has steadily stood its place in Wavery for so many years, Dexter spoke faster, exuding a compelling momentum that silenced people.
That night was destined to end in discord, and the conversation ended with his face completely darkened.
“Now I wonder if Mr. Lane’s people can save you from the charge of embezzling public funds.”
The waiter came in with tea, and Dexter stepped forward, walking past him and out of the private room. Ivy, who was waiting outside, immediately followed. “Mr. Russell, isn’t this too radical? We haven’t secured Landon yet. What if they managed to save Martin?”
“It won’t happen,” Dexter replied decisively.
Ivy was slightly stunned. She had followed this man for years and rarely saw him being irrational. However, she had already witnessed him losing control so many times in this project, and all of it was related to that woman.
“Make sure to clean up the mess at Mandarin Oriental, and don’t give anyone a handle,” Dexter reminded in a low voice.
“Got it. How about the situation with that employee? Should I go on behalf of the company to offer condolences?”
“No need, Dexter said, tilting his head and glancing at her.
Stunned, Ivy pursed her lips, a wave of jealousy thrummed through her.
“What has Arnold Carter been up to recently?”
“There was an incident in his project, and someone died. Public relations hadn’t been handled properly, so
he went to deal with it. He’s been stretched thin in Wavery recently.”
“Alright.”
Dexter snapped out of his recollection, and his gaze fell on Josie, who was half–leaning on the table. She had poured a bowl of corn rib soup and brought it to him.
“It’s sweet. Want to taste it?”
She smiled sweetly, not caring whether he had eaten or not.
Dexter took over the bowl. His eating manners were elegant, sipping it in tiny mouthfuls, and he quickly finished it. “Did you remove the bandages at the hospital today?”
“Well, there’s still a scar, and it’s really unsightly since it’s not healed properly,” Josie said.
“The wound is not deep. It will be fine in a few days,” Dexter reassured her, gently pinching her chin as he examined her scar under the bright light.
Josie felt uncomfortable with the physical contact; her body tensed, and her gaze fixed on him. “Dexter, would you divorce me if the scar on my face wouldn’t heal?”
