Barnard had pulled every string imaginable to secure a private visitation with Clement in the holding facility.
Gone was the jovial, ever-smiling billionaire. Clement looked haggard and gaunt, his skin ashen and his expression tight with stress.
But the moment he saw Barnard step into the room, a flicker of desperate hope lit up his eyes. “Barnard! Thank god you're here. You need to find a way to get me out of this mess. I was completely blindsided by this dragnet. I—”
“Mr. Williams, the scope of this investigation is astronomical. They are going to tear through every file we have,” Barnard interrupted, his voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “Even if you claim you were just caught in the crossfire this time, do you really think the truth about The Williams Group's laboratories will stay buried? They are going to dig up everything. Dumping this massive mess in my lap... honestly, it puts me in a very difficult position.”
A chill crawled down Clement’s spine as the hidden meaning in Barnard's words registered. His hopeful smile vanished. “What the hell are you saying?”
“I'm saying the risk I'm shouldering for you is no longer acceptable. The lab is blown. If we maintain this stalemate, they won't just lock you up—they'll bring the hammer down on all of us. The priority now is damage control. I have a proposal, if you're willing to listen.”
Barnard sat calmly across from him, the harsh fluorescent light reflecting off his gold-rimmed glasses. A sickening feeling of dread coiled in Clement's stomach. The situation was spiraling completely out of his control.
“Speak,” Clement growled.
“Since the lab is already exposed, why don't you simply take the fall for it entirely? The media is only interested in the big fish hauled back from Silvania. You can spin a story about being coerced by the cartel. While you're in here, I'll pull strings on the outside to secure a reduced sentence. If you don't do this, we all go down, and there won't be anyone left to fight for you.”
“You son of a bitch. I never realized you were harboring this kind of ambition,” Clement snarled, his eyes blazing with fury.
For years, Barnard had played the part of the fiercely loyal, meticulous protégé. It was precisely that flawless obedience that convinced Clement to entrust him with the empire.
Now he realized he had invited a viper into his inner circle.
“Ambition has nothing to do with it. I'm simply trying to salvage your legacy,” Barnard replied smoothly. “Let’s be realistic—you’re out of options. Even if you refuse to confess, your subordinates will trip over each other to testify against you for a plea deal. Why not take control of the narrative and save what you can?”
“You covet my company, and now you sit there pretending you're giving me friendly advice? You're playing your own game. Spit it out. What’s your real angle?” Clement demanded.
Barnard smirked. “I think my angle is quite clear. I'm just trying to ensure I don't go down with the sinking ship.”



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