Winning My Ex-Crush

Laird’s POV

I looked at the esteemed Mr. Golden sitting on the sofa across from me, his hands continuously shoving cookies into his mouth. Was he not afraid of diabetes? The man looked like someone who hadn’t eaten anything for a week.

“How about I cook spaghetti for you, sir?” Sharon blushed as she looked at Prosecutor Golden with a special offer.

“I want some too!” Matthew raised his hand eagerly.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

“You’ve already eaten. Stop raiding the food in this house.” I gave Matthew’s arm a light smack.

“Uh, I don’t mean to be rude, but I love all of Mrs. Sharon’s cooking. I wonder why I haven’t visited her more often.” Jessy giggled.

“Don’t tell me you all have been living here like parasites for a week,” Prosecutor Golden scoffed.

“Watch your mouth, sir! We’re not living here for free!” Matthew exclaimed, pointing at Golden’s face.

“Yeah. We help washing dishes, cleaning the house, and going grocery shopping,” Jessy said, frowning and offering his defense in a low voice. It seemed he had just realized that their efforts had not been enough to be considered mutually beneficial.

“You’re incredibly shameless,” Prosecutor Golden growled, glaring at all of us with his sharp eyes.

“It’s okay, sir. I’m just glad they’re comfortable staying here. After all, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a house this lively since Fenella went to New York.” Sharon, being kind, then laughed with rosy cheeks.

“They’d better be out of this house once we capture Peter.”

“It’s not up to you to decide that.”

My eyebrows shot up as I spoke sharply, cutting through the room. Everyone fell silent immediately. The old man now stared at me with the same piercing gaze. His eyes glittered, reflecting the light from the fireplace.

“You also don’t have the right to forbid me from giving advice to Mrs. Baxter,” said the old man Golden.

“Hey, enough. Everyone is welcome in this house, okay? No need for any bans.” Fenella waved her arms between me and Prosecutor Golden. “We should focus on tonight’s topic, okay?”

“She’s right,” the old man said.

“Fine.” I agreed with Fenella. “Say what you’ve found from your investigation.”

“I’d better work on my spaghetti now.” Sharon chuckled and disappeared into the kitchen.

The old man’s jaw tightened, but he finally stopped prolonging the issue of my rudeness towards him. He pulled out several sheets of documents from his bag and handed them to me. Fenella, Matthew, and I gathered around and read all the FBI notes.

“As you read, Laird. Thanks to the suspicious large transaction done plainly, we managed to catch the woman using Alan’s credit card. Coupled with Alan’s bank reporting and search warrants, we had the freedom to trace Alan’s account.” Prosecutor Golden explained the investigation timeline, in line with the notes in my hand.

“Linda? Isn’t that the name of the jewelry store manager from yesterday?” Fenella asked with a quick breath.

“That explains it now,” I said.

“Yeah. No wonder she was scared when I asked for Alan’s credit card yesterday.” Fenella shook her head with a crooked smile. “Has she been arrested?”

“Done. The FBI has interrogated her, and it seems she did it purely out of desperation. She bought a kidney donor illegally for her brother, who was suffering from an autoimmune disease,” Prosecutor Golden explained quickly.

“Oh, shit. She was unlucky to get the credit card that had already been targeted by the FBI. If only she had waited until we finished our operation, she probably wouldn’t have been caught.”

Matthew sighed deeply. I raised an eyebrow and looked at Matthew suspiciously. He shrugged.

“From tracing Alan’s accounts and matching various amounts with work contracts, we’ve concluded a strong suspicion. Peter has built a mafia network with his friends disguised as a social foundation and joint venture investment company.”

“Wait, a social foundation? Does that mean it’s related to Amy?” Fenella asked with her mouth open and eyes blinking.

“Yep. I’m also starting to see a similar pattern from this transaction record series. The social foundations of artists, celebrities, and fashion designers are one common link that cannot be separated,” I said, handing the notes to Fenella.

“Wait a minute. Friendship Circle of Mallory West Foundation?”

“That and various other social foundations throughout the state of Massachusetts are controlled by Amy. Including international joint venture investment companies, I’m sure they’re just shell companies,” I asked for confirmation from Prosecutor Golden. He nodded.

“What do you mean by shell companies?” Jessica asked with a furrowed brow.

“Shell companies are entities that only exist on paper. No real business activity takes place. They’re just a cover, and the companies are used to funnel illegal money, so it’s not easily tracked,” I explained patiently to Jessy.

“There are many shell companies interconnected, and they all form a network with the companies owned by these people involved. One of them is Alan’s business network, Amy’s, Mallory’s, Oscar’s, and various other celebrity-owned businesses.”

“But these are all names in Mallory’s circle of friends,” Fenella said with wide eyes as she read the list of names in the notes.

“Wait, wait. So, you mean their companies are just fronts for money laundering?” Jessy was equally shocked.

“Just like the expensive branded clothes you often wear, Jessy. They can easily mark up their products under the guise of brand or artwork prices that can’t be precisely determined. But have you ever seen someone actually buying and wearing them?” Matthew chuckled.

“Similarly with Alan’s retail company. Sales data could be manipulated to make it seem like the money is from sales even though it’s actually money laundering,” I added.

“You mean, all those sudden skyrocketing sales are not real? The people queuing to get into the store aren’t real?” Jessy’s mouth dropped open again. “I can’t believe this.” She shook her head.

“Well, they could be real purchases, but their value is negligible compared to the illegal money. They might also just be paid visitors.” I shrugged with both hands now crossed over my chest.

“I was once paid by a coffee shop to sit for hours while enjoying one of their menu packages. It created the illusion that their shop was busy,” Matthew laughed heartily.

“Laird, isn’t this too big for mere suspicion? Is there really solid evidence? I mean, this involves a lot of people,” Fenella’s brow furrowed, and I could see the horror in her eyes.

“They’re dangerous people blinded by wealth and power, Fenella. They’re a mafia network, and Peter is the leader while Alan, Amy, and Mallory are his accomplices.”

“Yes, but is there concrete evidence?” Fenella asked, breathless. It seemed she couldn’t accept that the fashion and celebrity world she had been part of was so dark.