Wesley entered the room and noticed that Graham was the only person there. The dish on the table emitted a steady stream of steam into the air. A layer of fiery red chili oil coated its surface, resembling a python's tongue poised to engulf him and drag him to the depths of hell.
Upon looking up, Wesley met Graham's sly gaze, which left him so startled that his knees buckled, and he tumbled to the ground.
Graham flatly remarked, "What's with the courtesy, Mebane? It occurs to me that we were almost family!"
Sweat poured down Wesley's face as he remained motionless on the floor.
Graham instructed his men to assist Wesley to a seat on the opposite chair. It was a stark contrast to his earlier arrogant demeanor when he was intoxicated.
Graham regarded Wesley with contempt.
During their engagement, Wesley had never met Maisie's family. His constant overseas travels left him with little time to do so. Moreover, he held a low opinion of her maternal family, deeming it unnecessary to meet them. Little did he anticipate that he would encounter Wesley under such circumstances.
"Mebane, my wounds haven't fully healed," he said coldly. "But I secured your release. Do you know why?"
"I-I don't," stammered Wesley.
"Because I want the truth from you," Graham replied, staring at him coldly and grinning.
Wesley's mind went blank.
The past few days in the police station had been strangely comfortable, possibly due to the Bayers' influence. It reminded him of the saying, "A starved camel is bigger than a horse."
Even though the Bayers had lost some of their former glory, they could effortlessly subdue him like a bothersome fly. He couldn't afford to cross them.
Kneeling on the ground, he implored, "Mr. Bayer, please, tell me... What do you want to know? I'll divulge everything I know!"
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