Fake Mating To My Ex's Powerful Enemy

Chapter 135: Chapter 135 Hudson’s Mate? You’re Delusional

Christina’s POV

I frowned as I studied Maxwell more carefully.

Something about this man didn’t add up. There was no way this sleaze belonged in Hudson’s company.

Perhaps he wasn’t from LGH at all.

Perhaps everything coming out of his mouth was complete bullshit.

While they droned on about business prospects, I discreetly slipped my phone from my purse and snapped a quick photo of him.

I sent it straight to Hudson with a message: [This guy. Do you know him?]

Several minutes passed before Hudson replied.

[Yes, he’s a Senior VP at Laurent Global Holdings. Why?]

He was secretly meeting with suppliers.

I started typing, then stopped. Deleted everything.

Typed again.

[Trying to feel me up under the table.]

Send.

I flipped my phone screen-down and opened the recording app.

Just as Franklin was about to launch into another sales pitch, I cut in.

"LGH must have really strict policies, right? Like, employees can’t meet privately with suppliers. No gifts, no cash, no freebies, not even discount vouchers."

Maxwell paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "I’m not taking anything from them."

"You think this spread magically appeared?" I gestured toward the butter-soaked lobster tails and oysters swimming in brown sauce. "None of this is free."

He hesitated, then slowly lowered his fork.

He attempted to shrug, but his shoulders were too heavy to pull it off properly.

"If this counts as bribery, I couldn’t have dinner with anyone ever again."

"It’s just a meal," Franklin quickly interjected. "Nothing improper about it."

Preston jumped in, "Yeah, we invited Elder Maxwell and he was friendly enough to come. That’s all."

"Exactly," Franklin added, "someone of Elder Maxwell’s standing naturally receives occasional gifts during the holidays."

I let them flounder for a moment before giving Maxwell a lazy smile. "A man’s gotta eat. And you look like someone with expensive taste. Nothing wrong with making a little extra on the side. I get it."

My smile widened, appearing genuinely friendly.

"You’re joking, Miss Vance. I don’t take kickbacks." His tone was stiff.

I glanced pointedly at his watch.

"How noble of you. All those supplier relationships, all those project budgets, and you’re living on just a salary? Must be quite the struggle."

I clicked my tongue and shook my head slowly, feigning disappointment like he’d shown up without wine.

"Shame. I thought a man who could afford a Patek Philippe might take a she-wolf somewhere nice. Guess not."

Got him.

His gaze swept from my lips down to my collarbone. The disgusting scent of his arousal made Akira bare her teeth in my mind.

He leaned closer, his voice low and greasy.

"I have plenty of money. Come with me, baby, I’ll take you to all the fancy places you want."

His cheeks bunched like fermented dough around his smile.

I forced myself not to gag.

Tilting my head, I kept my tone casual. "Really? And where does all this money come from?"

He swayed slightly, his eyes unfocused.

Definitely drunk enough to brag.

"Where the money comes from doesn’t matter, what matters is I’ll spend it on you." He waggled a finger. "Nine figures in assets, sweetie."

His hand moved toward my waist. I shifted away, then widened my eyes. "Elder Maxwell, what’s your position at LGH? You probably make what—a few million a year? Let’s say three million. If you have nine-figure assets, that’s thirty straight years of working, no breaks, no shopping, no eating."

A cold smirk tugged at his lips. "Of course, LGH alone doesn’t pay me that much."

"So you just skim off the top." I shrugged. "Whatever."

"No, no," he said quickly. "Skimming sounds so improper. What I do is... fair exchanges."

I kept my expression neutral, eyes slightly widened in fake surprise. "I don’t understand."

"See, these people give me gifts because they want to. I never ask. They know the game. I approve their bids, their products meet specifications, nobody gets hurt. Win-win." He turned to my father sitting on the other side. "Right, Franklin?"

Franklin nodded. "Exactly. Win-win." Even as an Alpha, Franklin’s submissive posture toward this elder showed just how desperately the Crescent Pack needed this deal.

He glanced at me, noticed I wasn’t rolling my eyes or playing with my knife anymore, and relaxed his shoulders with a satisfied nod like we were in this together.

He raised his glass to Maxwell. "Once we secure the contract, we’ll make sure you’re well taken care of, Elder Maxwell. Hope you’ll put in a good word for us during the final negotiations."

Maxwell grinned. "That won’t be a problem."

Franklin clinked glasses with him.

I leaned closer, keeping my tone deliberately casual. "So... aren’t you worried about anyone tracing the cash? Or do you insist on paper envelopes and hide the money under your mattress?"

Maxwell gave a smug chuckle. This time he didn’t touch me, just leaned in slowly, his tone becoming condescending.

"My wife deals in antiques. Your father just needs to pick out a vase and pay for it. Simple as that. Completely legal, squeaky clean."

"Oh, that’s—" I paused, genuine surprise in my voice. "That’s clever. These things are worthless, aren’t they? Old junk nobody wants, sold at ridiculous prices. So technically, no one’s paying you, they’re just overpaying for garbage. Your wife pockets the profit, and you walk away clean." freewebnøvel.com

Maxwell beamed with pride. "You’re sharper than I gave you credit for, Miss Vance. Now do you believe my nine-figure net worth?"

"That bastard is proud of his corruption," Akira growled inside my head. "I want to rip his throat out."

I exhaled slowly. "You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. But if your Alpha found out, you’d spend the next twenty years in a northern prison with your pack status revoked."

His face twitched.

Franklin saw it too and immediately barked at me, "Stop talking nonsense. Elder Maxwell is a pillar at LGH. Someone like him would never get arrested."

I snorted. "Oh yeah? You think he’s more untouchable than Alpha Hudson Laurent of the Sabreridge Pack?"

Preston narrowed his eyes. "Cut the crap. You talk like you actually know him."

He scoffed. "I remember you bragging about marrying Hudson Laurent last time. Still living in that fantasy? Dropping his name like it gives you some kind of leverage."

"You don’t believe I married him?"

Preston laughed. "That might work on Aunt Caroline, but not me. You’ve never brought him home, never even shown a photo. You probably realized the lie couldn’t continue, so you dropped it. And now you’re throwing his name around again? You sound mentally unstable."

"I do know him. And if you’re not careful, I might tell Hudson about all of this."