Chapter 71
Lawrence Lowe's POV
Cigar smoke curled around my fingers, making the dim lights in the private booth even hazier.
I leaned back against the plush leather sofa, idly watching bodies writhing on the dance floor below, my whiskey glass already empty.
That's when my men brought Hank in through the back entrance.
He looked like hell. Gone was that fake authority he usually wore—his graying hair disheveled, his expensive suit covered in suburban dirt. Like a beaten dog dragged out of the mud.
"Mr. Lowe." The moment he saw me, he plastered on a fawning smile, his aging face creasing into folds that turned my stomach.
I didn't acknowledge him, just lifted my chin slightly at one of my guys.
The man stepped forward immediately, running a signal detector over Hank's body. Only after confirming he was clean did he step back.
"Mr. Harris. Sit." I finally spoke, my tone unreadable, though my gaze cut through him like a blade. "I heard you almost didn't make it back tonight?"
Hank's face flushed red. He settled awkwardly onto the furthest sofa, forcing out an excuse: "Luke's people were tailing me too closely. But don't worry—I lost them clean. Didn't lead anyone here."
"Lost them clean?" I scoffed, stubbing out my cigar in the crystal ashtray. I leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes sharp as a hawk's in the darkness. "You left, and Luke's woman followed right after. Tell me, Hank—are you really that useless, or do you think the Lowe family runs a charity for washed-up has-beens?"
My voice was quiet, but it made Hank visibly flinch.
The color drained from his face. Sweat beaded on his temples, his eyes unable to hide his terror.
"Emily? How did she—"
"How should I know?" I picked up my glass, gesturing for the attendant to refill it. "All I know is you nearly laid our entire arrangement right under Luke's nose."
The temperature in the booth dropped to freezing.
Hank knew he'd screwed up. He'd come here seeking my protection. If I decided he was worthless, his fate would be worse than anything the Victor family could do to him.
He slid off the sofa with a thump, half-kneeling on the floor, his posture abject.
"Mr. Lowe, please—give me one more chance!" He frantically pulled a manila envelope from his jacket, holding it above his head with both hands, his voice breaking. "This is everything I have left. The dirtiest secrets from the Victor family's rise to power—it's all in here! Just help me. Help me take back the Victor family, and I swear, my life belongs to you!"
I glanced at the envelope but didn't reach for it.
Of course I was interested in the Victor family's dirty laundry.
But more than digging up old dirt, I wanted to watch Luke—that golden boy—lose everything and crumble.
He'd made me look like a fool last time. That was a debt I hadn't forgotten.
"Help you?" I swirled my glass leisurely, ice clinking against crystal. "Mr. Harris, what makes you think you're still in a position to negotiate?"
Hank bit his lip, like he'd made some final decision, his voice dripping with venom. "Because I know Luke's biggest weakness! He's completely under that witch Emily's spell! Take her out, and Luke's nothing—a bird with clipped wings! Mr. Lowe, if you'll just help me—"
A sharp crash cut him off.
I glanced over. The girl who'd just poured my drink was on her knees, face white as a sheet. Spilled liquor soaked the expensive handwoven rug, glass shards scattered everywhere.
My brow furrowed instantly.
In a place like this, discussing matters like these, the last thing you needed was unwanted ears.
"Take her out. Deal with her." My voice was ice. I didn't even spare her a second glance.
"No! Mr. Lowe, please!" The girl's soul nearly left her body. She crawled toward me, grabbing at my pant leg, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't mean to! I didn't hear anything, I swear—"
I hated crying women. Just as I was about to have her dragged away, she clutched at one last straw, her voice desperate.
"I know her! I know the Miss Windsor you're talking about!"
The booth fell silent again.
My gaze finally settled on her face.
She was young and pretty, the trendy innocent type. Right now, terror made her look even more pitiful.
"Oh?" My interest was piqued. I used the tip of my shoe to lift her chin, forcing her to look at me. "How do you know her?"
The girl trembled like a leaf in the wind, but survival instinct forced her to pull herself together, words tumbling out. "I... I used to be Jacob's secretary. Emily's ex-boyfriend."
Hank watched from the side, eyes malicious, clearly catching on.
He hated Emily with every fiber of his being. He wouldn't pass up any chance to hurt her.
I looked down at this shaking girl, so desperately trying to prove her worth, and a knowing smile curved my lips.
Talk about perfect timing.
Luke treasured his little lawyer, didn't he? I'd love to see his face when his sharpest blade got tarnished beyond cleaning—or better yet, when it turned against him.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Julie." Her voice shook with the tremor of someone who'd just escaped death, but a small flame of hatred kindled in her eyes. "My name is Julie."
Julie.
Now I remembered.
A few months ago, some woman had come to me claiming to be Jacob's secretary, saying she had dirt that could drive a wedge between Emily and Luke.
I'd given her a chance and resources. She'd been like a pebble tossed into the ocean—not even a ripple before Luke's people crushed her into nothing.
Useless pawns only had one fate: disposal.
I'd assumed she'd vanished into some dark corner of New York by now. Didn't expect to run into her again.
"So it's you." I released her chin, settling back against the sofa, glass in hand, lazily examining her. "A failed pawn who still dares bargain with me?"
My voice was soft but poisoned with ice, freezing Julie's nascent hope solid.
She knew if she couldn't produce something valuable tonight, she'd end up like that shattered glass.
"No! Mr. Lowe, I didn't fail!" Julie insisted frantically, voice shrill. "Emily's just too cunning! When she was with Jacob, she'd already set up countless escape routes! I know everything. Everything!"
"She's not some elite lawyer—she's a gold-digger who'll do anything to climb the ladder!" Julie's face twisted with sick satisfaction. "In college, she had an affair with her professor. That's how she got her Wall Street internship! She targeted Jacob for the Johnson family connections, wanted to use him as a stepping stone!"
"The three years she was with Jacob, she had him buying her luxury goods, jewelry—even the startup capital for her first law firm came from Jacob! And then what? Then the moment she got her hooks into Luke, she tossed Jacob aside like a used tissue! Women like her are rotten to the core!"
The details were specific, the timeline clear. It actually sounded somewhat credible.
Hank listened with gleaming eyes, already picturing Emily's ruined reputation. He chimed in, "Mr. Lowe, I told you that woman was no good! Luke's just blinded by her face!"
I ignored Hank's chattering, watching Julie with interest.
I didn't care whether Emily's past was clean or dirty. I cared whether this could be weaponized against Luke.
"What else?" I swirled my glass, voice flat, like I was listening to a boring story.
She kept talking, spewing those stories twisted and reimagined by Jacob, each word dripping with nauseating malice.
I listened quietly until she'd exhausted herself, squeezing out every last drop.
"Finished?" I asked.
"Finished." Julie panted, looking at me with hopeful eyes like a dog waiting for its master's treat. "Mr. Lowe, is this enough? If we leak this, Emily won't be able to show her face in New York! Even if Luke protects her, he can't silence everyone! Then—"
"Then you get to leave and start fresh, is that it?" I finished her sentence, a cryptic smile on my lips.
Julie's eyes lit up. She nodded frantically like she'd grabbed a lifeline. "Yes! Mr. Lowe, I just want out of this place. I promise I'll never appear before you again. I'll disappear completely!"
I looked at her flushed, excited face and chuckled softly.
Poor thing.
She thought vomiting up all her secrets would buy her freedom.
She didn't realize that once a pawn lost all value, it lost its reason to exist.
I gave one of my men a look.
He understood, walking toward Julie expressionlessly.
Julie's smile froze. She seemed to realize something, pupils dilating with fear. "Mr. Lowe... you..."
"People who know too many secrets can't disappear cleanly." I drained the amber liquid in my glass, my voice cold as death. "Next life, be smarter."
"No—no, you can't do this to me—"
Her terrified scream was muffled by a large hand, and two muscular men dragged her out of the booth.
Hank sat there witnessing the brutal scene, not daring to breathe, cold sweat pouring down his face. He probably finally understood that being by my side was far more dangerous than staying with the Victor family.
That's exactly what I wanted him to understand.
I set my empty glass on the table with a crisp sound, my gaze falling on the manila envelope he'd offered earlier. "Everything you mentioned—that's all Jacob's side of the story, correct?"
Hank froze, then realized I was asking about what Julie had just said. He nodded quickly. "Y-yes. Julie was Jacob's secretary. Whatever she knows, Jacob must have told her."
I leaned back against the sofa, fingers tapping lightly against my knee.