Chapter 141: I Heard You Met With My Wife

Elodie rubbed her temples and asked, "So, what do you think we should do?"

Isabella grinned smugly. "George has already sorted it out for us. We'll be able to report soon."

"Wow, Isabella, having a powerful husband really pays off. I've gained so much from this."

They both laughed and made plans before saying their goodbyes.

But a few days later, Isabella got an unexpected call from Clayton about the shares and he asked to meet her in person.

Feeling a bit suspicious, Isabella decided to slip a recording pen into her bag just in case.

The meeting spot was a super secluded club. Clayton, as usual, put on his fake warm smile. "I hope you like the food here. These are the restaurant's signature dishes, and they say they're pretty good."

Isabella gave him a cold look. "Doesn't matter. I'm not here for the food."

"Let's chat while we eat. It's tough to get anything done on an empty stomach, right?"

When the food arrived, Clayton played the perfect gentleman, serving her with exaggerated politeness.

"Clayton, let's cut to the chase. I've got other things to do." Isabella wasn't in the mood for his fake niceties.

Clayton laughed and put down his utensils. "Since you're so direct, I'll get to the point."

Isabella stayed silent.

"You know my dad and I have been with the Jones Group for almost ten years. We've been loyal and hardworking. Now that Lucas is gone, the Jones Group is in trouble. We can't just walk away empty-handed, can we?"

Isabella smirked. Clayton and Andrew worked for Lucas. If they didn't want to leave empty-handed, they should go to Donna, not eye the shares.

"Clayton, you need to understand these shares belong to the Neville family. They're not company perks to be handed out."

"I've made some sort of deal with Donna."

They were indeed in cahoots. "So, you're saying you're on Donna's side now?" Isabella's eyes turned icy.

"Not exactly. It depends on who offers more, right? If you can give me better benefits, I can be on your side."

Isabella sneered, "I don't have money to give you."

Clayton chuckled, lightly placing his hand on Isabella's. "The terms of our deal don't have to be about money."

Isabella quickly pulled her hand back like she'd touched something gross, glaring at Clayton with disgust. "Show some respect."

"Ms. Neville, I know those shares mean more to you than just money. They were your grandfather's. You wouldn't want them to end up with someone else."

Isabella stared at him coldly. "So?"

Clayton stood up, walked behind Isabella, and gently pressed her shoulders, whispering in her ear, "We're all adults here. You know what I mean."

Isabella shrugged her shoulders. "I don't."

"I can help you get the shares quickly, but you need to transfer at least a third of them to me, and..." Clayton leaned in closer, almost touching Isabella's ear. "I quite like you."

Isabella was beyond disgusted. She grabbed Clayton's wrist, twisted it, and pinned his arm behind his back, forcing him to kneel with her knee.

Clayton yelped, "It hurts!"

"Clayton, who do you think you are, trying to pull this crap on me? Even if I agreed, do you really have the guts to cross George? You're playing with fire."

"I'm doing this for your own good. If we team up, we can get rid of Donna. You get what you want, and I just make a little extra."

"One-third of the shares, and you call that pocket money? You've been making quite a haul at the Jones Group, haven't you?" Isabella twisted his arm harder, making Clayton scream.

"If you don't agree, we'll just drag this out. Let me go first!"

Isabella kicked him away. "Clayton, don't even think about taking what's not yours. The shares will come to me eventually. It's just a matter of time, and it's not up to you."

Isabella walked out. Clayton rubbed his wrist and spat at her retreating figure. "Bitch, do you really think I can't deal with you? I'll get you eventually, and then we'll see how smug you are."

Leaving the club, Isabella turned off the recording pen. This recording should help her reclaim the shares, and she planned to give it to her lawyer.

She didn't plan on telling George about this little incident. But he found out anyway.

One night, a drunken Clayton was grabbed by several men in black, thrown into a van, and taken to a room. His hands were tied behind his back, and the darkness around him sobered him up real quick.

After what felt like forever, he heard the door open, and the black cloth over his head was yanked off. He saw several people. George was sitting right in front of him.

Clayton stammered, "Mr. Spencer."

"I heard you had a little gathering with my wife recently." George lit a cigarette, his tone icy.

Clayton's heart skipped a beat. He didn't know whether to admit it or not, scrambling for an explanation. "We were just discussing business."

"Business?" George raised an eyebrow, took a drag of his cigarette, and blew the smoke in Clayton's face. "Tell me, which hand of yours touched her?"

"No, Mr. Spencer, you misunderstood. I didn't do anything inappropriate to Mrs. Spencer, believe me."

George wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. He signaled to the men in black, and Clayton's tied hands were released. Before he could react, his hand was slammed onto the table.

"One hand or both?" George's voice was dripping with menace.

Clayton was terrified, his body shaking. The man in black toyed with a sharp knife, making Clayton even more scared. Soon, he was so frightened that he wet himself.

This pathetic sight made everyone present burst into laughter.

"This guy pissed himself!"

"The knife hasn't even touched him yet. What'll he do when it does?"

"He might even shit himself."

Caleb walked up to Clayton. "With guts like these, you still thought you could mess with Mrs. Spencer? You overestimate yourself."

Clayton pleaded, "Caleb, I won't dare anymore. Please, mercy!"