Chapter 167

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“Sir, I already made some calls, and it seems that some members of the Blackwell Group are set to attend a gala tomorrow night. I already secured the invitation, just as you instructed. It’s for you and the Vice President,” Renard’s secretary said.

“Alright.” Renard nodded as he leaned back against his seat and closed his eyes. He then gestured for his secretary to leave. He hadn’t had any sleep for the past few days, and it was finally taking its toll on him.

Renard sat motionless, his fingers pressing against the arms of his chair. His eyes remained closed, but his mind was far from resting. There was no time for rest.

Liam’s words had set things in motion, forcing him to act immediately. He had spent the past days exhausting every possible option–calling banks, seeking loans, trying to secure enough capital to stabilize Weiss Inc. But none of them approved his requests.

Their reputation was too damaged.

The FBI investigation had turned every potential investor into a coward. Banks refused to touch them, citing the risk. Even longtime acquaintances–people who had once shaken his hand and called him a friend–had backed away.

They had used him when it was convenient–asking for favors, calling in connections, attending the same galas, pretending their ties were strong. But now? Now that he needed them?

They were gone.

Renard’s fingers twitched. Pathetic. Every single one of them.

He didn’t even try to convince himself that they were actually scared of being implicated in the investigation. That was an excuse. The truth was they didn’t want to be associated with a sinking ship.

A mistake.

Because he would recover.

And when he did, he would remember every single one of them.

He would cut them off entirely–make sure they never benefited from Weiss Inc. or its connections again. Not in this lifetime.

A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts.

Renard opened his eyes as Calen stepped inside, his expression dark.

Renard straightened, his grip tightening slightly. “What’s the news from the hospital?”

Calen stopped a few steps from the desk. “Mother is still unconscious,” he said. “The doctors say it’s not looking good.” Renard’s jaw tensed. He had already expected that answer, but hearing it still sent a wave of frustration through him. He inhaled sharply, then exhaled just as quickly. “And Monica?”

into fists. “She’s still

pressed harder against the desk. “Good,” he muttered. “I want that woman to rot in there.”

out a slow breath, his shoulders tense. “Our lawyer is concerned,” he said. “Monica has been showing signs of mental instability. There’s a chance she’ll try to use

narrowed, “What?”

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Chapter 167

she might use it along with other mental health defenses–especially since

on the desk didn’t loosen. “That’s stupid.”

“The legal system

back. His gaze sharpened. “If you had handled your issues properly, none of

Calen’s jaw clenched.

between them before he

his fists tightening at his sides.

silence between them

back to the papers on his desk, his mind already moving past this conversation. There were

family for help?”

They’re reluctant to give money because the investigation is still

His focus remained on the papers in front of him. The Johnsons‘ reluctance didn’t matter. They

secure what we need soon enough.”

brows pulled together.

answering, Renard reached for the thick ivory envelope sitting on his desk and pushed it toward Calen.

eyes scanned the contents before flicking back to Renard.

a representative of

invitation again, his fingers tightening

but that’s not the point.” His gaze sharpened. “The point is that we will have an opportunity to speak with someone

tapped against the envelope before he set it down.

didn’t change. “They’re based in Europe. Their records check out.” He gestured slightly. “They own multiple companies–legitimately. They expand by acquiring businesses, not by running them into the ground. They have holdings all

You think building connections with them is going to help us?”

the right connections,

been eyeing Weiss Inc. for months. They want

respond

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