The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 252

"They cornered me," Penelope stated flatly.

"Did they hurt you?"

"Yes."

"Ha! Oh, I'm not laughing. I'm just concerned for you. But you shouldn't be calling me. You should call the police."

"The construction company never paid their wages. Does Stone Group know about this?"

"Do you know about it?"

"How would I know?"

"Then I certainly don't know either. After all, I wasn't the one in charge of the library project."

"Regardless, Stone Group still bears some responsibility!"

"Which is why I told them to find you."

"Zebulon!"

"Those poor migrant workers have it tough, Ms. Laurier. You can't just take your bonus and walk away from your responsibilities."

"I've already resigned from Stone Group!"

"Then this has nothing to do with Stone Group anymore. You're on your own."

His logic was absurd, a twisted mess of deflection and blame, yet he delivered it with such brazen confidence.

"If they decide to sue—"

"Let them sue," he interrupted. "If they can even afford it. And even if they do, we have ways to pin the blame on you!"

Penelope clenched her fists. Zebulon was taking shamelessness to a whole new level.

"However," he added, his tone shifting, "for old times' sake, I could help you out."

"How?"

"The Grog Shop. Tonight. If you've got the guts to show up."

The Grog Shop was a notorious nightclub in Orenth, known for being a rough place. She didn't know what game Zebulon was playing, but she knew that walking in there would be walking into a trap.

"She hits hard."

"So she's a feisty one."

Louis was in his forties, a man who moved comfortably in both legitimate and criminal circles. Most people knew better than to cross him.

"I'm here to get the wages for those workers," Penelope said, walking over and sitting down across from them.

"Ha! And you think you can do that?" Louis patted his beer belly.

"You asked me to come here, which means there's room for negotiation, right?"

Louis grinned. "You're a smart one, I'll give you that." He stood up, picked up a glass of liquor from the table, and placed it in front of Penelope. "If Ms. Laurier would do me the honor of drinking this."

Penelope frowned. The drink had been poured before she arrived. It was almost certainly drugged.

"And if I don't?"

"That would be a slap in my face. And my friends over there wouldn't like that very much."

Penelope glanced at the other room. The men were all on their feet now, their expressions menacing. It was clear she had no choice but to drink it.