In a quiet teahouse in the southern district of Jarrow City, the air was thick with the scent of sandalwood.
But Damien was in no mood to appreciate it.
Across from him sat a white-haired old man, the Clarke Corporation's former Chief Financial Officer, Mr. Drake.
"Mr. Drake, I want the truth," Damien said, getting straight to the point.
"Five years ago, how did Bastian Hawke's company, Bastian Dynamics, really collapse?"
Mr. Drake's hand, holding his teacup, paused. He then let out a sigh.
"Damien, your father forbade anyone from speaking about that matter."
"I'm running the company now," Damien's tone left no room for argument.
"My wife is missing because of this. I have no idea if she's dead or alive. Do you really think I still care about my father's orders?"
Mr. Drake was taken aback. He clearly hadn't realized how serious the situation was.
Shaking his head, Mr. Drake set down his teacup.
"To be honest, the company was ruthless during that takeover."
"Your uncle Martin was leading the charge, and you know his style—scorched earth."
"But."
Mr. Drake's tone shifted.
"What truly crushed Bastian Hawke wasn't the thirty-million-dollar lawsuit."
"What was it?" Damien pressed.
"Betrayal."
Mr. Drake lowered his voice.
"Bastian Hawke had a partner named Silas Greymark. Just three days after we signed the contract with Bastian Dynamics, Silas sold the core technology from our joint project to an overseas tech firm. Then he cleaned out all the liquid capital from the company's accounts and vanished."
"Bastian Hawke was caught between a rock and a hard place."
"He had our lawsuit on the outside, betrayal from his own partner on the inside, and he was facing prison time for embezzlement."
Damien was silent for a long time after hearing this.
It partially matched the records he had found. Bastian Dynamics had indeed breached the contract and misappropriated funds.
But it turned out he'd been set up by his partner.

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