Chapter 174

"I still don't get what kind of luck Yesenia has to have landed Mr. Lambert. I mean, she's pretty, but not as pretty as Ms. Madison."

"And she's definitely not as competent."

It was a question they had debated endlessly, a mystery that remained unsolved. But that didn't stop the endless cycle of gossip fueled by envy.

Rosalie glanced around before leaning in closer. "Speaking of Ms. Madison, I heard she and Mr. Lambert were classmates. She started working here right when he did. I have a wild theory."

"What is it?"

"You think they're having an affair?” Rosalie whispered. "And Yesenia is just a smokescreen?"

"Are you crazy? Do you want to get fired?" a colleague hissed, quickly retreating to her own desk.

"Oh, come on, we're just talking. Haven't you noticed the way Ms. Madison looks at him? It's... intense."

“So what? That doesn't prove anything. Half the women in this city are in love with him, and Yesenia has chased them all off. It's normal for Ms. Madison to have a crush on a successful man."

"But that's my point!" Rosalie insisted. "Any woman who shows the slightest interest in Mr. Lambert gets destroyed by Yesenia. But Ms. Madison's position has always been secure. With Yesenia acting as a guard dog for the outside world, what's to stop them from carrying on right under our noses?”

She wiggled her fingers, a conspiratorial grin on her face.

Her colleagues rolled their eyes, convinced she was delusional.

But Latisha, staring at her blank computer screen, felt a chill run down her spine.

...

In a café.

“Bro, what's so urgent that you had to meet me out here?" Renata asked.

Clifford slid a folder across the table toward her.

Renata picked it up, her brow furrowed. As she read through the documents, the color drained from her face.

"This much?" she gasped, looking up in shock. The losses were far greater than she had imagined.

"That's right." Clifford then placed small audio recorder on the table and pressed play. Wallace's voice, cold and furious, filled the ain ain the can't return this money, then "

Renata's face grew paler. "What does Dad mean by that?"

"He suspects Santino embezzled the money."

"That's impossible!” Renata shot to her feet, then sank back down,

lowering her voice. "Bro he wool

never.do.comnething like thiat

Clifford's lips curved into a faint

smile. "But Dad doesn't believe that. And this isn't something you or I can decide if that hole isn't filled Someone has to take the blame. Do you understand?"

And Santino was the perfect scapegoat. He wasn't a Lambert by blood, and he was the one who had managed the project.

Panic crept into Renata's eyes. She snatched up the file again, her fingers gripping the pages so tightly they crumpled.

"Then... what do we do? Bro, for my sake, please, can you help Santino?”

Clifford considered this for a moment. "There might be one way."

Renata's face lit up with hope. "What is it?”

“Fill the hole,” Clifford said simply, as if discussing a minor inconvenience.

“But that's over eighty billion! Bro... are you joking? Where are we supposed to find that kind of money?"

A wry smile played on Clifford's lips. “We can. But it's up to you.”