Novel Name : Son-In-Law Madness

Chapter 734

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Never in a million years did Winslow expect Donald to have no sense of shame.

This video's obviously recorded by one of his loyal subjects! Some gall he has to claim that he's got

nothing to do with it!

Winslow pulled his tie to loosen it. A wave of fury crashed through him as he fumed, “Even if you

weren't the one, you shouldn't have played this video right here during our meeting! I demand you

destroy that flash drive this instant!”

Donald gestured for Amelia to pause the video before he turned to Winslow and said placidly, “Mr.

Moore, I already told you not to get so worked up about it. I've never watched this video until now, so

how would I have known that this video could turn out to be something like this? Of course, we can

stop playing it, but would you mind telling us who was that woman you were with in the video?”

Following the direction where Donald was pointing, Winslow finally noticed that the screen had frozen

exactly at the time when he and that woman were both facing the camera.

Others might not be able to put a name to that woman's face, but there was no way Jennifer could not

recognize who that was.

“That's our manager from the commerce department, Xyla Lozano,” she revealed.

Donald regarded Winslow with a half-smile. “If my memory serves me right, isn't married your marital

status? What would your wife think if she found out you had been intimate with one of our staff? More

interestingly, after looking into the rest of the files in the flash drive, we also learned that she seemed to

be a conduit for your money laundering.”

To come up with a flawless financial report and get past the headquarters' evaluation would be out of

the question had there been no inside job.

One by one, Amelia opened the documents in the flash drive, only to find the bank transfer records

between Winslow's personal bank account and that of those who were in cahoots with him.

As compared to the information Amelia provided in bringing the company's illicit profits to light, what

Donald brought to the table was equivalent to sentencing Winslow to death. It would be a futile attempt

at that point to make anyone else a scapegoat for Winslow's own felony.

Devastated, Winslow felt as if all his strength had left his body. As he slumped into his seat, not another

word escaped him.

“What else do you have to say for yourself now, Mr. Moore?” Donald said.

“I... I was the one who pulled the strings for dozens of our company's collaborative projects. I

contributed significantly to our company's success. Give me another chance, Ms. Wilson! I promise this

will never happen again!”

Sadly, Winslow's promise meant nothing to Jennifer.

She hit the button on the table, and soon enough, two security guards entered the conference room

and seized Winslow.

In light of such detailed information, Winslow would surely have to spend the rest of his life behind

bars.

As for those people who were involved in the case, they were all at the mercy of Jennifer's judgment

call.

At first, the executive directors could not even care less about Donald's existence. Things were

different then as they began seeing him in a different light.

This brat's one vicious man. Even a sly old fox like Winslow wound up in jail because of him. Should

Donald decide to come at us, how many of us can make it out alive?

At that thought, everyone started to feel restless, their minds already wandering.

It was then that Donald shifted his attention to Sven, who was drenched in a cold sweat. He asked,

“Are you unwell, Sven?”

A sheepish smile was set on Sven's face. “I... Uh... I think my stomach's acting up again. It's just an old

illness of mine.”

“That can't be right... Why does it show that you have a healthy stomach on your files, then? You do get

migraine all the time, though.”

Donald's words only served to send shivers down Sven's spine.

Only people close to Sven knew about his on-and-off migraine. He could only wonder where Donald

had gotten the intel from.

The more Sven pondered about it, the more fearful he felt. Why do I feel like I'm looking at a secret

service agent when I look at Donald?

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