“So he tried to hustle someone under the Lewis family’s protection? Bold move,” someone whispered.
The officers frowned at Jason and Emily.
“If you can’t provide evidence, this looks like false accusation. You’ll need to come to the station to make a statement.”
Jason blanched and tugged at Emily to leave, but she stayed rooted, eyes on me—shocked, embarrassed, and unmistakably rattled.
The butler bowed slightly to me.
“Mr. Johnson, apologies for the disturbance. Mr. Lewis is waiting at the banquet. Shall we?”
I smoothed my lapel, let my gaze pass over Jason and Emily—both in disarray—and felt nothing at all.
“Let’s go. We shouldn’t keep Mr. Lewis waiting.”
The Maybach’s window rose, sealing out the lobby’s noise.
The engine purred; soft classical music threaded through the cabin. I had barely touched my phone when the screen lit up.
Emily was calling.
I answered. Before I could speak, her urgent voice burst out:
“Will, how do you even know the Lewis family? The butler was so respectful—have you known them all along?”
