Chapter 182

"Mom, Easton Shaw found out which company that bastard works for!"

Easton Shaw was a local troublemaker, usually idle.

But he had a knack for gathering information.

Tyson Richter hadn't held out much hope.

Unexpectedly, he actually succeeded.

"Excellent! I was worried we couldn't find him. Now we have a way. Come on, son, let's go find him—"

Deborah Melville's eyes lit up, eager and impatient.

Lately, staking out the Roscente residence had only made Victoria Roscente afraid to leave her house.

It had achieved nothing else.

But now things were different...

Half an hour later.

"This is Ethan Roscente's company? Such an impressive building. How rich must he be?"

Tyson tilted his head back, staring at the towering glass facade.

His Adam's apple bobbed. Greed glittered in his eyes.

Deborah also clicked her tongue in awe. "Goodness, your sister really landed a wealthy one this time. This level of luxury isn't your average rich!"

If they could seize this chance to get a payout, they'd be set for life.

Mother and son exchanged a look.

They walked inside without hesitation.

Ethan's company was located in a prime downtown area.

Security was tight. Outsiders couldn't just enter.

Deborah spotted some janitors cleaning.

She sneaked into a supply closet, found two sets of uniforms, and they disguised themselves as cleaners to slip inside.

The moment they entered the lobby, the opulent interior stunned them.

They gaped around, completely out of place.

Oblivious, they followed the crowd into an elevator when the doors opened.

"Son, did your friend say which floor he's on?"

Deborah felt dizzy looking at the dense array of floor buttons.

Tyson shook his head. "No, but the boss must be on the top floor."

The elevator dinged open.

It was the top floor.

They stepped out. "It's so big. Which way?" Deborah asked.

Tyson was also bewildered. The place was enormous, with no signs. "Just... straight ahead, maybe?"

They decided to try their luck.

Not far ahead, they spotted a plaque: "CEO's Office." Tyson's eyes lit up.

Suddenly—

"You two, stop right there! I'm talking to you!"

An assistant rose from his workstation and strode toward them, his gaze scrutinizing.

"Which floor are you cleaners from? What are you doing on the top floor?"

And heading straight for Mr. Roscente's office...

Highly suspicious.

"S-sorry..." Deborah immediately fabricated a lie. "We're new. We accidentally got on the wrong floor. Since we're here, we might as well clean..."

She made a move toward the office.

"Stop! You can't just enter Mr. Roscente's office. Cleaning is handled by specific personnel."

The assistant's eyes fell on Tyson's face. This cleaner...

He was too young! And a man!

He frowned. "If you could get on the elevator, you must have key cards. Show them to me."

Deborah froze.

Tyson began to panic, his eyes darting away.

The assistant grew more certain these two were trouble. "If you can't produce key cards, I'll have to call security!"

Seeing the ruse was up, Deborah dropped the act.

She sneered, straightened her posture. "Who said we're cleaners? I'm here to see Ethan Roscente. Tell him to come out!"

Tyson found his courage too. "Why does a mere employee care so much? Get Ethan Roscente out here! We have business with him!"

The assistant watched their brazen performance, his brow furrowed.

He was about to call security when Ethan emerged from a conference room.

"Mr. Roscente..."

The assistant breathed a sigh of relief.

Ethan had just finished a negotiation.

He saw two cleaners causing a commotion outside his office from a distance.

Connecting it with what Victoria had mentioned days before, he immediately guessed who they were.

"Go attend to your duties," he dismissed the assistant with a wave.

Then, he pushed open his office door.

Without needing an invitation, Deborah and Tyson swaggered inside.

Only then did Ethan take a proper look at them.

The woman had sagging skin, sunken eyes.

Her features had a good foundation; she must have been a beauty in her youth.

Unfortunately, her chin was sharp, her lips thin, her eyes shifty, giving her a mean, calculating look.

Isabella Langley resembled her by about sixty or seventy percent.

As for Tyson...

He had a narrow, foxy face, dressed like a hoodlum, clearly not holding down a proper job.

While Ethan assessed them, Deborah was doing the same.

The man was tall, handsome, impeccably dressed in a suit, like a leading man from a TV drama.

Only his eyes were too cold. Not an easy mark...

Her gaze fell on the watch on Ethan's wrist.

She didn't recognize the brand, but it was studded with diamonds, glittering brightly. It had to be worth a fortune.

That damn girl sure knew how to pick them!

Deborah swallowed, her greed almost palpable.

She itched to get straight to talking money.

But then she reconsidered. She couldn't rush this. The final step had to be steady.

She lifted her chin, adopting the posture of someone seeking justice. "So you're Ethan Roscente? You got my daughter pregnant and then abandoned her? Think our family has no one? You have to give us an explanation today!"

"An explanation?" Ethan smiled, a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"That's right! If it weren't for you, how could she have ended up like this? You bastard! Give me back my daughter's innocence—"

She raised her hand as if to strike him.

But under the man's icy stare, she flinched, shrinking her neck, and awkwardly lowered her hand.

Seeing this, Tyson stepped forward to back her up. "Think our family has no one? You slept with my sister for free. Now she's lying in the hospital after a miscarriage, suffering so much. You have to make this right!"

"This is a society of laws, we follow rules. Push us too far and we'll see you in court! See who ends up embarrassed!"

Ethan watched their performance calmly, his expression unreadable.

Finally—

"Finished?"

Deborah and Tyson exchanged a glance. "What... what do you mean?"

Ethan's voice was flat. "Just say it. How much do you want?"