Chapter 273 What Are You?

Chapter 273 What Are You?

Craig had just taken a step forward when Jeremy's cane struck the ground heavily with a dull thud.

"Wait."

Jeremy took half a step forward, chin slightly raised, with that air of someone who'd spent decades running Marentis business circles and was used to controlling every room he walked into.

"Mr. Hubbard, that's not how this works."

He looked at Ethan, his voice rising slightly.

"The Gonzalez family has been rooted in Marentis for fifty years. When any family here has something to celebrate, we show up to congratulate them—we've never needed an invitation. That's social etiquette. That's mutual respect. The Hubbard family has only been back in Marentis for a few years. You really don't understand how things work here?"

The hallway went quiet for a moment.

Ethan stood his ground, neither stepping aside nor changing his expression.

He just looked at Jeremy, like watching someone who'd said the wrong thing.

"Mr. Gonzalez, are you finished?"

Jeremy let out a cold laugh.

"I'm not done yet. Jason came to apologize, not to cause trouble. You won't even give him a chance to apologize—what does that say about you? Are you afraid the Gonzalez family might say a few words to Abigail?"

Jason stood nearby, playing his part perfectly, his whole body slightly hunched, voice kept low.

"Mr. Hubbard, I really just wanted to apologize to Ms. Thomas in person. What happened before—I was wrong, I admit it. But you can't use that as a reason to say I'm here to scheme against her. That's not fair to me."

His eyes even reddened slightly, looking like he'd been terribly wronged in front of everyone.

"I know you're very protective of Ms. Thomas, and I understand that. But to say in front of all these people that I came here with ulterior motives—Mr. Hubbard, do you have proof?"

He raised his head, looking straight at Ethan.

His expression was perfectly calibrated.

Aggrieved, sincere, innocent.

If you didn't know him, anyone would easily believe it.

Ethan looked at him, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

It wasn't a smile—it was the look of someone watching a performance they'd already seen through.

"Proof?"

Ethan took a step forward, hands in his pockets, voice not particularly loud but clear throughout the hallway.

"Jason, you came here today with a gift box, chose to appear halfway through the recognition banquet, came through the side door, and made enough noise for half the hall to hear."

He paused, letting each detail sink in.

"If you really came to apologize, you could have come this morning. You could have given me a heads up. You could have quietly left the gift and gone without disturbing anyone. But you didn't."

Ethan's gaze settled on Jason, his tone flat.

"You chose this time, this place, to stand here and let all the guests see you publicly admit your mistakes. And then what? Tomorrow the whole city will be saying the Gonzalez family showed real sincerity while the Hubbard family is unreasonable. That's the outcome you were betting on, right?"

The layer of grievance on Jason's face cracked.

His lips moved but no sound came out.

Jeremy's expression darkened, his grip on the cane tightening.

"Ethan, you're slandering my son!"

"Slander?"

Ethan turned to Jeremy, his gaze calm in a way that didn't suggest argument.

"Mr. Gonzalez, your son bribed media to stake out the hospital and photograph my sister, paid trolls to smear her online—and you think I'm slandering him?"

Footsteps came from down the hallway.

Several guests stood behind the half-open side door, peering out through the gap.

Jeremy opened his mouth to argue back, but every sentence Ethan spoke hit specific facts, leaving him momentarily unable to respond.

Jason bit his lip, his voice suddenly rising half a pitch.

"Mr. Hubbard! None of that had anything to do with me! Someone's been operating behind the scenes, pinning all this on me!"

He suddenly turned toward the people behind him.

"Matthew's always had it out for me—he could easily fabricate all of this to frame me!"

"Enough."

The voice came from the end of the hallway.

Matthew stepped forward.

His face showed no expression, his eyes cold as stone.

"Nico."

Nico came forward from behind, holding a tablet with the screen already lit.

Matthew took the tablet, flipped to the first page, and turned the screen toward Jason.

"Here, take a look and see if this is fabricated."

On the screen was a screenshot of a chat conversation.

The sender's avatar and name were right there in black and white—Jason's private account.

The content was a conversation between him and a PR company manager, discussing how to get the original design drafts from Abigail at Summit Tech Group to file a copyright infringement complaint and suppress Summit Tech Group's new project.

Jason's face went white.

Matthew flipped to the next page.

Transfer records.

Three payments to three different social media accounts, amounts ranging from twenty thousand to fifty thousand dollars. The notes read "article fees" and "video placement."

He flipped to another page.

Communication records with Lynn. Though the main chat had been set to auto-delete and was gone, a confirmation message Lynn sent to Jason from a backup account before her arrest had been fully preserved in a screenshot.

The message read: [Got the information, what's the next step?]

Jason's reply: [Spread it out, the more people see it the better.]

The hallway went completely silent.

Behind the side door, several guests' eyes widened. Someone whispered something to the person next to them, who tugged at their sleeve, and they immediately shut their mouth.

Jason stared at the tablet, his lips beginning to tremble.

He jerked his head up, voice practically squeezed from his throat.

"This is fake! You made this up!"

He stepped back, raising his hand to point at Matthew's face.

"You've always wanted to drive me out of the Gonzalez family! You act like the golden boy in front of Sawyer while you pull this stuff behind the scenes to come after me! These chat records are doctored! The transfer records are fake too! Dad—"

He whipped around toward Jeremy.

"Dad, you can't believe him! He just wants to—"

A heavy thud cut him off.

Everyone froze.

Sawyer's cane struck the stone floor of the hallway, the sound traveling up from the ground, making even the walls seem to shake slightly.

The entire hallway went quiet as if someone had hit mute.

Sawyer stood in the middle of the crowd, body leaning slightly forward, supporting himself with his cane. His gaze swept from Jason to Jeremy, finally stopping on Hannah.

He didn't speak.

But the disappointment and anger accumulated in those eyes was heavier than any words.

Jason's mouth hung open, the rest of his sentence stuck in his throat, unable to come out.

Sawyer stared at Jeremy, voice not loud but seeming to press out from deep in his chest.

"Jeremy."

Jeremy's knees went slightly weak.

"Take your wife—and that bastard son—and get out of the Gonzalez family today."

Sawyer moved his cane forward half a step, pressing his full weight onto it.

"All three of you."

His gaze turned to Jason.

Jason's face had completely lost all color.

Sawyer's next words were interrupted by the side door suddenly being pushed open.

Abigail stood in the doorway.

Her gaze swept over everyone in the hallway, finally landing on Jason's face.

"You just said who's framing you?"