"The owner?!"
Hailey's voice turned shrill, and her phone clattered to the floor.
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the approaching old man.
Having done her homework on the city's elite, she knew exactly what the owner of Le Céleste represented.
Le Céleste was the premier establishment in Vaelion City. Its daily revenue was in the tens of millions.
Not to mention the vast business empire tied to it!
She'd heard that the owner of Le Céleste was the head of some major, renowned corporation in Elyndor!
And the old man she and Marianne had just been screaming at, mocking relentlessly...
Was actually that legendary, unfathomably powerful figure?!
Hailey wasn't the only one who was frozen in shock.
Marianne, who had also been arguing with the old man, felt her legs give out, and she collapsed to the floor.
The old man..... Mr. Marshall had reached a pale-faced Hailey.
He still wore a refined smile, but his sharp gaze sent a chill through her heart.
Mr. Marshall's smile remained as he spoke. “Young lady, what you were saying earlier was quite interesting. Come now, since I'm right here, I'd love for you to tell me all about how that Miss and I were supposedly 'all over each other.' And how did she sell herself to get with me? Such a fascinating story. Why don't you explain it to this old man, hm?"
His voice wasn't loud, and his tone was as gentle as a kindly elder's.
But each word landed like a heavy hammer blow on Hailey's heart.
Hailey's face was ashen, her lips trembling uncontrollably.
Her legs shook, and tears streamed down her face, but she couldn't utter a single word.
"What's wrong? Can't say it to my face?" Mr. Marshall chuckled, his voice still perfectly calm.
He casually glanced over at Marianne, who stood ashen-faced by the entrance.
"Since you won't speak, I'll speak for you." Mr. Marshall's tone remained level. "The Pan-Seared Scallops on Saffron Velouté' you two just knocked over was valued at one point two five million dollars correct?"
Hailey's lips quivered. She couldn't believe... the owner of Le Céleste was bringing
up the soup again.
He was the owner of Le Céleste!
Rich, powerful, influential.
To him, 1.25 million was like 125 dollars.
Why was he still nitpicking over it?
Mr. Marshall raised a hand, summoning the manager. “One point two-five million, plus public slander and defamation, damaging my reputation and that of Le Céleste's esteemed guest... Mr Mercer how many years would that warrant?"
The manager replied respectfully, "Damages to property exceeding a million
defamars, combined with public
nation and slander, require financial compensation and restitution for reputational harm. With all charges combined, it's a minimum of ten years."
"J-Jail time?" Hailey's face drained of all color. "I... I didn't, it's not slander, l-It's clearly..."
"Clearly what?” Mr. Marshall's eyes narrowed. "You didn't knock over that soup? You weren't the one spreading rumors here just now?"
“I..." Hailey opened her mouth to speak.
Mr. Marshall cut her off with a smile. "Don't be so quick to deny it, young lady. Le Céleste has cameras everywhere."
Hailey bit her lower lip.
She had just returned to the Wynn family. She hadn't even had a chance to enjoy
her new life. She refused... to go back to how things were before!
Jail time?
That was even more impossible!
Her eyes darted around, and her gaze fell on Nicholas. It was as if she had found her last lifeline. She put on a pitiful expression and began to cry at him. "Mr. Blackwood, please help us... We didn't mean to..."
Nicholas's expression was indifferent. He cast a cool glance at her tear-streaked face, and his striking eyes held nothing but icy disdain.