Chương 10: Chapter 10: Face slap
Alex and Gary exchanged a stunned look before erupting in laughter. The sound echoed unpleasantly in the sterile room.
"A hundred million pounds?" Alex scoffed. "Do you think you're some kind of movie star? You made all that money from gambling and the stock market in just a few years? Who are you trying to fool?"
The white policeman couldn't help but smirk, clearly siding with the Lehman brothers.
Miller sighed, a hint of mockery lacing his voice. "Ignorance is a disease, but arrogance is terminal."
He tossed another stack of papers onto the table, the crisp sound silencing their jeers.
"Here," he announced, "is the record of my investments in tech startups. Each of these companies is now a household name, and I was an early investor in all of them."
One by one, he spread out the documents. "See for yourselves. These are all legitimate contracts and investment records, with clear timestamps and signatures."
The stack was impressive, each page a testament to Miller's financial acumen. As the officers and Lehmans scrutinized the documents, a collective gasp filled the room.
"This... this is impossible!" Alex stammered, his face pale.
Even the white policeman's smug expression faltered. The evidence was irrefutable. Miller had not only amassed a fortune legitimately, but he had done so in a remarkably short timeframe.
"Lucky," someone muttered, but the word hung heavy with disbelief.
Miller's eyes gleamed with a steely glint. "Next question," he declared. "How much is my time worth, wasted on these baseless accusations?"
The white policeman remained silent, his face a mask of disapproval.
Legal Eagles Enter the Fray
Undeterred, Miller pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Lawyer Sherlock," he spoke into the receiver, "get down to the San Francisco Police Department. We have some defamation charges to pursue."
He hung up and began gathering the documents. "My lawyer will be here shortly. You two are welcome to get yourselves legal counsel as well."
The white policeman's face darkened. He attempted to interject, but Miller cut him off.
"Mr. Policeman," Miller stated, his voice firm, "I believe this evidence adequately proves my innocence. However, I intend to explore my legal options regarding the false accusations brought against me."
There was no arguing with such confidence and clarity. Miller and Fiona exited the room, leaving the others to stew in their own humiliation.
Fiona's eyes sparkled with admiration. "Brother Miller," she exclaimed, "you were a total rockstar in there!"
Miller grinned. "They were messing with the wrong guy," he replied.
Unexpected Arrivals
Fifteen minutes later, a sharp-dressed lawyer materialized at the police station. Miller greeted him as "Mr. Sherlock."
The lawyer, a man of action, wasted no time. He approached the white policeman. "Officer," he declared, "I represent Mr. Miller, and I have reason to believe these two gentlemen" – he gestured towards Alex and Gary – "have committed defamation."
A shiver ran down Alex and Gary's spines. Defamation could have serious consequences. A determined lawyer and a client with deep pockets were not a good combination.
Just then, the door swung open once more, revealing a new cast of characters. A middle-aged woman, Chris Lehman, Miller's former adoptive mother, stormed in, her pink windbreaker a stark contrast to the somber police station atmosphere.
Seeing her sons, she sighed in relief. "Don't worry, darlings," she announced. "Mommy's here."
Shifting Tides
Following Chris were two more lawyers, brought in to salvage the situation. However, after a brief consultation, their faces fell.
They huddled with Chris, whispering urgently. "Madam," one advised, "reconciliation might be the best course of action. If they pursue this, your sons won't be imprisoned, but they will likely face compensation claims. Furthermore, the media attention would be disastrous for the Lehman family's reputation."
Chris frowned, her gaze darting towards Miller. Her initial disdain was replaced by a flicker of apprehension.
She remembered her initial dislike for Miller and the years of strained interactions. Now, he stood before them, a self-made success story, utterly independent of the Lehmans.
The lawyer continued, "Perhaps a financial settlement would be..."
Before he could finish, Chris interrupted. "Ask him," she instructed, her voice strained. "How much does he want?"
The lawyer approached Miller; his voice laced with trepidation. "Mr. Miller," he began, "how much would it take to settle this matter?"
Miller smiled: "One hundred million pounds!"
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