Three days later…
The Weasley Group's situation was getting worse.
The media hadn't let up.
Investors were still pulling out their funds.
And the board members were starting to act more openly against Sean.
But in the midst of it all…
One name still made Sean's jaw clench every time he heard it.
Mr. Freddy.
That old drunk might not have a company.
No power.
No big name.
But that bastard knew how to blackmail people.
For years, he'd lived off Sean's money through Moana.
Cars.
Houses.
Gambling.
Alcohol.
Debts.
All of it had been paid for quietly by Sean back then, just so Moana wouldn't keep crying and begging for help for her father.
And now?
That old man stabbed him in the back.
---
That night, Sean sat in his office reading the latest report.
One of his subordinates stood in front of the desk with a cautious expression.
"We've found the original source of the media leak."
Sean's gaze shot up.
"Speak."
