?Chapter 1080:


    The blonde scoffed. “Who do you think you are? Tossing Ste’s name around like it means anything.” She flicked her hand, signaling herpanions. “Teach her a lesson.”


    The group surged forward, ready for a fight.


    Five minutester, Elena strode out of thedies’ room as if nothing had happened, every hair still in ce.


    Inside, five women in designer dresses huddled together, bruised and battered, nursing swollen cheeks.


    A shattered phoney on the tiles. The blonde’s eyes were still wide with terror, her confidence long gone.


    Upstairs, in a discreet private room above the banquet hall, the air was thick with power games.


    Liam fixed Wesley with a steely look. “Mr. Spencer, have you given any thought to my proposal fromst time?” Only a tight, insincere smile crossed his lips—his patience wearing thin.


    Wesley didn’t even blink. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, Mr. Russell. My answer’s still no.”


    Dropping any pretense of civility, Liam leaned in. “Listen, I’m actually looking out for you. the will keep spinning with or without the Spencer Group, but you might not be so lucky, not withw enforcement after you. Since you don’t appreciate my goodwill, don’t me me for what happens next.” Menace crept into his tone as he pressed on, “You’re not leaving this room tonight. Your arrest warrant’s already signed. Enjoy yourst moments as a free man, Mr. Spencer—prison is waiting.”


    Everything about the Spencer Group’s so-called crisis could be twisted however Liam pleased—he held all the cards. He’d offered a chance, but Wesley had thrown it away. No alliance meant total destruction—he would see to it that Wesley’s reputation never recovered, and that Wesley would be left with nothing but ruin.


    Liam smirked. “Take a good, long breath. This is thest freedom you’ll know. Step outside, and you’re nothing but a convict.”


    Wesley chuckled, raising an eyebrow with disdain. Even at this point, Liam didn’t seem to sense his impending doom. Without a word, he lifted his champagne ss in a mocking toast to Liam.


    Wesley’s unnerving calmness unsettled Liam. What reason did Wesley have to still smile? Surely, he must grasp the situation—he’d never get out once he was behind those bars. The prison was under Liam’s control. He could keep Wesley locked up for as long as he pleased, and with a snap of his fingers, Wesley could be erased—out of sight, out of mind.


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    A fresh threat from Liam hovered in the air. “You really have no idea what you’re up against.”


    Suddenly, the door flew open, and his secretary rushed in, breathless. “Mr. Russell, something’s wrong!”


    A look of irritation passed over Liam’s face. “Get a hold of yourself. What’s the emergency?”


    Visibly shaken, the secretary said, “Mr. Russell, it’s serious. Someone from the Presidential Office is here.”


    “What?” The words sent a jolt through Liam. “Who did they send?”


    “Director of the Bureau of Investigation—he’s the President’s right hand. Graham Martin’s with him, too.”


    The blood drained from Liam’s face. What business did the Bureau of Investigation’s director have at this banquet? Had it been anyone else, he might have found a way to wriggle out. But the director’s fearsome reputation was known nationwide—his visits always spelled disaster for his target. Why in the world would he show up here tonight?


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