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Chapter 371
Chapter 371:
“Of course, Cole,” Richard stammered, his voice thick with pathetic submission. “Of course. We will follow your timeline perfectly p>
A wave of physical nausea washed over Cole’s stomach.
He stood abruptly. He did not touch a single bite of food. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket and turned his back on them.
He walked out of the private room without another word.
He had just used one hundred million dollars to smash the Beasley family into silence and bought himself three months. But as he walked down the hotel corridor, the realization settled over him like a suffocating weight: his money could control the Beasleys, but it could not buy back a single second of June’s time.
The private viewing room inside the Manhattan Club was completely silent, insulated from the chaotic noise of the city below.
June sat in the back of a black town car, staring at the passing traffic. After the violent confrontation at the hospital and Cole’s refusal to sign the divorce papers, she knew playing by the standard rules of their months-long ongoing case was no longer an option. She needed a sharper strategy — a weapon he would never see coming.
She had coordinated the meeting with Easton through his cousin Sloane Harper that morning. Sloane had promised to sit in on their strategy session.
June stepped out of the elevator and made her way into the exclusive club. A waiter in a crisp white uniform guided her to the private room overlooking Central Park — the same space they had used for all their previous case strategy meetings over the months.
𝗠os𝘵 r𝗲а𝘥 𝗍his 𝗐𝖾e𝘬 𝗈𝗇
A man was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the door.
He wore a bespoke dark grey suit that fit his broad shoulders with perfect precision. He stood completely still, radiating a heavy, immovable presence like a mountain.
Hearing the distinct, metallic clicking of her crutches, the man turned around immediately.
He was in his mid-thirties. His features were sharp and strikingly handsome. His dark eyes were piercing, as though they could instantly dissect a person’s deepest secrets — but a polite, controlled smile rested on his lips, softening at the edges when he saw her.
He walked forward in two long strides, his hands outstretched to steady her before she could even shift her weight.
“Easy there,” Easton Hahn said, his voice deep and smooth, laced with quiet professional courtesy. “I had them move the armchair closer to the door the second you texted you were five minutes out. No need to push yourself on that leg p>
June shifted her weight onto her left leg to accommodate the heavy walking boot and let him guide her forward, a faint, grateful smile touching her lips. “Thank you, Easton. That’s very thoughtful of you p>
At that exact moment, June’s cell phone vibrated in her purse.
She pulled it out. It was a text message from Sloane.