Son In Law Madness novel

Chapter 734

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Chapter 734 Secret Service Agent

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

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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.

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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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