Gerald stared at him.
“Why?”
Mr. Shu looked at Whitney.
“Because she found something your team failed to find.”
The room fell silent.
Gerald's face became expressionless.
Mr. Shu continued.
“And now I have another question.”
Gerald slowly sat back down.
“What?”
Mr. Shu didn't look at him.
He looked at Whitney.
“Did you notice anything else?”
Whitney hesitated.
She looked down at the contract.
There was something she hadn't mentioned.
A small phrase.
Buried deep in the document.
She had noticed it while translating the earlier section.
At first, she assumed it was a typo.
But now that Mr. Shu had asked, she couldn't ignore it.
“There is one other thing.”
Gerald's eyes immediately snapped toward her.
“What?”
Whitney touched the paper.
“This section.”
The lawyer leaned closer.
Whitney continued.
“This sentence says that if the Chinese investment group withdraws from the project under certain circumstances, they will forfeit a substantial portion of their initial capital.”
Mr. Shu's lawyer nodded.
“Yes.”
“But the English version says the opposite.”
Gerald's face froze.
The lawyer looked at the English copy.
Then the Chinese version.
He went pale.
“What?”
Mr. Shu took the documents.
“Explain.”
The attorney swallowed.
“In English, it says the investor receives the deposit back if the project fails to meet certain conditions.”
“And Chinese?”
The lawyer read it again.
“In Chinese…”
He paused.
“It says the investor may forfeit the deposit.”
Mr. Shu slowly looked up.
“How much?”
The lawyer answered quietly.
“Twenty million dollars.”
Nobody moved.
Whitney's stomach tightened.
Twenty million.
Not twenty thousand.
Not two hundred thousand.
Twenty million dollars.
Gerald suddenly stood.
“That cannot be right.”
Mr. Shu looked at him.
“Then explain it.”
“I didn't write the agreement.”
“But your company provided it.”
“My lawyers prepared it.”
“Your lawyers work for you.”
Gerald's voice rose.
“This is obviously an error.”
Mr. Shu's expression remained cold.
“Two errors?”
Gerald stopped.
The first discrepancy.
Then the second.
The chances of both being innocent mistakes were becoming difficult to ignore.
Whitney looked at the contract again.
Something bothered her.
The wording wasn't random.
The two discrepancies seemed connected.
She traced the clauses with her finger.
“These aren't identical.”
Mr. Shu looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
Whitney pointed to the first discrepancy.
“This one protects the company.”
Then the second.
“This one puts the investor at risk.”
Mr. Shu's lawyer looked at her.
She continued.
“Both differences favor the same side.”
Gerald stared at her.
Whitney slowly looked up.
“Your side.”
Nobody spoke.
Gerald's face became rigid.
“That is an accusation.”
“No.”
Whitney shook her head.
“I'm not accusing anyone.”
She stood.
“I'm saying the discrepancies consistently benefit one party.”
Mr. Shu nodded slowly.
“That is a very important distinction.”
Gerald looked around the table.
“You people are seriously going to take business advice from a waitress?”
The sentence landed harder than he expected.
Because this time, nobody laughed.
Not even his own associates.
Mr. Shu turned toward him.
“No.”
Gerald exhaled.
“We're going to take it from someone who noticed what we missed.”
Gerald's jaw tightened.
Mr. Shu's wife looked at Whitney.
“You said you learned Chinese by listening.”
“Yes.”
“Then listen carefully.”
Whitney frowned.
The older woman leaned closer.
“There is something else in this contract.”
Whitney looked at the pages.
“What?”
The woman pointed toward a section near the bottom.
“The name.”
Whitney followed her finger.
A signature block.
She read the English name first.
Then the Chinese name.
Her eyes narrowed.
The name didn't match.
She looked again.
Then she looked at Gerald.
“Who is Victor Hale?”
Gerald's expression changed instantly.
It was barely noticeable.
But Whitney saw it.
The color disappeared from his face.
Mr. Shu noticed too.
“Gerald?”
Gerald didn't answer.
The lawyer looked confused.
“Who is Victor Hale?”
Gerald stood.
“It's irrelevant.”
Mr. Shu's voice became colder.
“Then why is his name in our investment agreement?”
Gerald reached for the document.
“Because the document was drafted by an outside consultant.”
Whitney looked at the signature block.
“No.”
Everyone turned toward her.
Gerald stared.
“What?”
Whitney pointed to the Chinese text.
“This isn't an outside consultant.”
“How would you know?”
“Because the wording identifies him as an authorized representative.”
Gerald's eyes narrowed.
Whitney continued.
“And according to this clause, he has authority to make decisions on behalf of your company.”
Gerald said nothing.
Mr. Shu slowly stood.
“Who is Victor Hale?”
Gerald looked around the room.
For the first time all evening, the billionaire appeared genuinely trapped.
Then his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His expression changed.
He answered.
“Hello?”
He listened.
Nobody could hear the voice on the other end.
But everyone could see Gerald's face.
He became pale.
Then angry.
Then frightened.
Finally, he whispered:
“You're not supposed to be here.”
Whitney watched him carefully.
Gerald slowly lowered the phone.
Mr. Shu asked:
“Who was that?”
Gerald didn't answer.
A moment later, the restaurant's front doors opened.
A tall man in a dark suit walked inside.
He looked around the dining room.
Then his eyes landed on Gerald.
He walked directly toward table twelve.
Gerald stood frozen.
The stranger stopped beside him.
“Mr. Covington.”
Gerald swallowed.
“What are you doing here?”
The man smiled.
“I could ask you the same question.”
Then he turned toward Whitney.
His expression changed.
“Wait.”
He stared at her for several seconds.
“You're Whitney Sawyer?”
Whitney nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
The stranger smiled.
“I've been looking for you.”
Gerald's face went completely white.
Because Victor Hale wasn't an outside consultant.
He was the man who had been secretly negotiating against Gerald for months.
And somehow, he already knew Whitney's name.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Whitney stared at the stranger.
He looked to be in his early fifties, tall and impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit. His silver hair was neatly combed, and a thin pair of glasses rested low on his nose.
He didn't look nervous.
He didn't look surprised.
He looked like a man who had walked into the restaurant knowing exactly what he would find.
And that frightened Gerald more than anything else.
“Victor,” Gerald finally said.
The man's smile disappeared.
“Gerald.”
Mr. Shu looked between them.
“You two know each other?”
Victor laughed softly.
“Unfortunately.”
Gerald stepped closer.
“You need to leave.”
Victor didn't move.
“This isn't your restaurant.”
“I don't care.”
“You should.”
Gerald lowered his voice.
“You have no business being here.”
Victor looked toward the table.
“Actually, I have quite a lot of business here.”
His eyes settled on the contract.
Then on Mr. Shu.
“Mr. Shu, I apologize for arriving unannounced.”
Mr. Shu remained seated.
“You are Victor Hale?”
“Yes.”
“The same Victor Hale named in this agreement?”
Victor glanced at the document.
“Yes.”
Gerald immediately interrupted.
“Don't listen to him.”
Victor raised an eyebrow.
“You should be careful, Gerald. You're making this very easy.”
“Easy for what?”
“For me.”
Whitney watched silently.
Something about the exchange told her this wasn't a simple business disagreement.
There was history here.
And a lot of it.
Victor pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat down.