JUN'S POV
"So, you're saying there's a mole in my company feeding information to Yifan?" My voice is sharp, and controlled, though my fists clench under the table.
"Yes."
"And why should I believe you?"
Riley doesn't waste time beating around the bush or small talks. Instead, she slides a photo across the table, her manicured nails tapping it lightly. I glance down—and feel the blood in my veins ignite.
It's a picture of my garage in America. The place no one should have access to except me.
My jaw tightens as she produces two more photos, this time of my car's engine. Detailed, high-quality images. The kind that could only be taken by someone with direct access. My teeth grind against each other.
"I have more," Riley says evenly, her gaze unflinching. "But I want something in return."
"Name your price."
"Yifan's death."