Chapter 252
“They cornered me,” Penelope stated flatly.
“Did they hurt you?”
“Yes.”
“Ha! Oh, I’m not laughing. I’m just concerned for you. But you shouldn’t be calling me. You should call the police.”
“The construction company never paid their wages. Does Stone Group know about this?”
“Do you know about it?”
“How would I know?”
“Then I certainly don’t know either. After all, I wasn’t the one in charge of the library project.”
“Regardless, Stone Group still bears some responsibility!”
“Which is why I told them to find you.”
“Zebulon!”
“Those poor migrant workers have it tough, Ms. Laurier. You can’t just take your bonus and walk away from your responsibilities.”
“I’ve already resigned from Stone Group!”
“Then this has nothing to do with Stone Group anymore. You’re on your own.”
His logic was absurd, a twisted mess of deflection and blame, yet he delivered it with such brazen confidence.
“If they decide to sue-”
“Let them sue,” he interrupted. “If they can even afford it. And even if they do, we have ways to pin the blame on you!”
Penelope clenched her fists. Zebulon was taking shamelessness to a whole new level.
“However,” he added, his tone shifting, “for old times’ sake, I could help you out.”
“How?”
“The Grog Shop. Tonight. If you’ve got the guts to show up.”
The Grog Shop was a notorious nightclub in Orenth, known for being a rough place. She didn’t know what game Zebulon was playing, but she knew that walking in there would be walking into a trap.
“Ms. Laurier, please, help us. We’re at our wit’s end,” Leo begged, his hands clasped together.
Penelope looked at the desperate faces of the men around her. They were in a terrible situation and deserved sympathy.
“Honestly,” she said with a sigh, “this isn’t my problem.”
That night, Penelope found herself at The Grog Shop.
Zebulon had clearly been expecting her. A waiter was waiting at the entrance and led her to a private room. As the door swung open, she glanced across the way at anothe room where several men were drinking and carousing with women, all of them now looking in her direction.
“See? I told you she’d come.”
Penelope turned her head. The room was dimly lit, but she could make out two figures on a sofa. The speaker was Zebulon. She smirked and flipped the light switch. No need for theatrics.
The sudden brightness made both men shield their eyes. When they lowered their hands, she recognized the other man: Louis Lee, the head of Monolith Builders. The library project had been a joint venture between Stone Group and Monolith Builders. As the construction
company, Monolith was the one
directly responsible for the unpaid
wages.
“I thought you said she got beat up,” Louis said to Zebulon, clearly disappointed to
see Penelope unharmed.
Zebulon narrowed his eyes. “She knows how to fight.”
“Oh, does she?”
“She hits hard.”
“So she’s a feisty one.”
Louis was in his forties, a man who moved comfortably in both legitimate and criminal circles. Most people knew better than to cross him.
“I’m here to get the wages for those workers,” Penelope said, walking over and sitting down across from them.
“Ha! And you think you can do that?” Louis patted his beer belly. TÊœe source of this á´„ontent ɪs
“You asked me to come here, which means there’s room for negotiation, right?”
Louis grinned. “You’re a smart one,
I’ll give you that.” He stood up,
picked up a glass of liquor from the
lost of the in
table and placed in front of
Penelope. “If Ms. Laurier would do
me the honor of drinking this.”
Penelope frowned. The drink had been poured before she arrived. It was almost certainly drugged.
“And if I don’t?”
“That would be a slap in my face. And my friends over there wouldn’t like that very much.”
Penelope glanced at the other room. The men were all on their feet now, their expressions menacing. It was clear she had no choice but to drink it.