The door swung open.
Wang Xiaoliang sat behind his desk, several documents spread out beside him, and glanced up at him.
He smiled.
Blood rushed straight to Gu Junhao's head.
What are you laughing at? That I spent fifteen days locked up? That you invalidated my online banking access? Or that I still had to come to you?
Or that you cleaned me out while I was gone?
Whatever it was, he was definitely laughing at the joke Gu Junhao had become.
He didn't go in, his feet rooted to the threshold.
Who reported me?
The police had been far too precise that day: the time, the place, the people, they hadn't missed a thing. There had only been a few of them playing cards, and it definitely wasn't any of them.
Everyone else in the company was a possibility.
Only they knew, but they had all taken favors from him.
It was probably Wang Xiaoliang, wasn't it?
He had already worked through this question in the detention center.
Once he got out, he had tried every way he could to get revenge.
Gu Junhao clenched his fists tight. Fifteen days ago, he had been certain this man was here to burnish his résumé and would move up in six months, not for money, but to match his celebrity wife.
Forget it. Go in.
No hurry to flip the table. My money's still in the company accounts.
But all the business was still in his hands. He hadn't lost his trump card. As long as he had it, there was room to negotiate.
Gu Junhao stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
"Mr. Gu, you're out?"
Wang Xiaoliang half rose from his chair and looked him up and down. "You look pretty well. Your belly's shrunk, and you look