Chapter 90 Emergency
Selena's POV
"So, this is what you call an 'emergency'?"
"No... no, it's not! Ms. Hart!" Max jumped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"This is fake! This is a setup! How... how could I possibly say something like that!"
Levi beside him was shaking like a leaf, his lips trembling, unable to get a single word out.
"Fake?" I smiled. I picked up the internal phone on my desk and pressed Anna's number.
"Anna, please have the head of purchasing and the warehouse supervisor come to my office right now."
As soon as I finished speaking, Manager Chen's face turned another shade paler.
He knew I wasn't joking around with him.
I hung up the phone, leaned back in my chair, and crossed my hands in front of me, looking at him.
I was waiting.
Waiting for him to continue his performance.
"Ms. Hart, you have to believe me! I've served the company for ten years—even without achievements, I've put in the effort! Someone must be trying to set me up! They must be!" He was making his last struggle, his voice already carrying a sob.
How pathetic.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the office door.
Anna pushed it open, followed by two men.
They froze for a moment when they saw Max and Levi's deathly pale faces.
"Ms. Hart, you wanted to see us?" The department head spoke first, his face plastered with a flattering smile.
"Sit." I pointed to the sofa across from me.
They sat down, and the atmosphere in the office became even more strange.
"Department head," I looked at him, "Max just reported to me that our latest batch of products on the production line has seen a significant drop in quality rate because the supplier provided substandard parts. Do you know about this?"
The department head's eyes darted around, and he immediately put on an expression of deep distress. "Of course I know! Ms. Hart, I was just about to report this to you! Our purchasing department has done everything possible to screen suppliers! But the current market conditions are tough, and those suppliers... well, they're cutting corners for profit! We're victims too!"
He completely cleared himself of any responsibility.
"Really?" My gaze shifted to the other person. "Supervisor Mike, since there's a problem with the parts, our warehouse must have a lot of defective goods piling up, right? Have you done an inventory and kept records?"
Mike immediately straightened up. "Reporting to Ms. Hart! All unqualified parts have been registered according to procedure and sealed in Warehouse No. 3! They can be inspected at any time!"
They coordinated perfectly, as if they'd rehearsed countless times.
If I didn't have evidence in hand, I might actually have been fooled by their loyal and devoted act.
Too bad for them.
"Very good." I nodded.
Then I picked up another document and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of them.
"Department head, this is your purchasing record from last quarter. Among them, there's a company called 'Bright Metalworks' that we signed a three-million-dollar parts procurement contract with."
His expression changed slightly.
"Yes, this company... is a new supplier we developed. Their quote was very competitive..."
"Very competitive?" I interrupted him. "Competitive enough that the day after you signed the contract, your Swiss bank account received an extra five hundred thousand dollars in 'investment income'?"
His breathing stopped instantly.
"That's my personal... investment..." He was still being stubborn.
"Really?" I pressed another button on the remote.
The display screen on the wall changed.
It was surveillance footage.
The scene showed the entrance to Hart Group's Warehouse No. 3. The time stamp was three days ago, late at night.
A black truck with no markings was parked at the entrance.
The warehouse supervisor, Mike, was standing by the truck, directing several workers to load boxes marked with the Hart Group logo onto the vehicle.
The image was so clear you could even see the black mole on his face.
"Mike" my voice was like a judgment from hell, "what you sealed in Warehouse No. 3 wasn't defective goods. It was our top-grade original parts imported from Germany."
"You secretly sold these priceless genuine parts. Then you had the department head purchase a bunch of industrial garbage from 'Bright Metalworks' to fill the inventory gap."
"And you, Max," I finally looked at the man who was about to collapse in his chair, "you were responsible for using this garbage on the production line, creating defective products, and then pushing all the blame onto 'market conditions' and 'unscrupulous suppliers.'"
I stood up and walked toward them step by step.
"You destroyed the company's products with inferior parts. You lined your own pockets with the company's genuine goods. And you're telling me that after serving the company for ten years, this is your 'effort'?"
The office fell deathly silent.
The department head and supervisor had lost all color in their faces. They stared at the screen, their bodies shaking .
They were done for.
That was the only thought in their minds.
"It wasn't... it wasn't me..."
Suddenly, a trembling, sobbing voice broke the silence.
It was Levi.
The young team leader who hadn't dared say a word from start to finish.
He slid off his chair with a thud and fell to his knees on the floor.
"It's not my fault! Ms. Hart! It really isn't!" He pointed at Max, whose face was ashen, and screamed hysterically, "It was him! It was all him forcing me!"
"He said if I didn't do it, he'd fire me! And make sure I could never work in this industry again! I... I have a wife and kids to support! I had no choice!"
He was crying and sniveling, pushing all responsibility away from himself.
How spectacular.
A real dog-eat-dog show.
Max's head snapped up. "You bastard! How dare you betray me!"
Like a crazed wild boar, he sprang from his chair and lunged at Levi.
"Enough."
I spoke coldly.
He froze in place, his movement comically suspended in mid-air.
He turned his head and looked at me with desperate, venomous eyes.
"Selena, don't get cocky. You think taking down a few of us means you've won?"
He suddenly laughed maniacally, the sound particularly jarring in the quiet office.
"We're just small players! Scapegoats! If you touch us, you're touching the people behind us!"
He stared at me intently. "You think Hart Group is your family business? Let me tell you, in this building, there are plenty of people who want you dead!"