"That's the same question I have in mind, Mr. Cortez," Draymond asked with a cold, monotone voice, brushing his chin with his fingers. Then, he rested his chin on the palm of his hand while his elbow was on the table's surface, looking straight at Amado for three seconds. "Why?" he added.
Still seated at the head of the table, Draymond leaned his back on the office chair and crossed his arms. "Mr. Cortez, the evidence we've presented is compelling. It's not just about the company's financial losses; it's about potential criminal activities that have taken place," he said with a weary tone and looked at Keiffer, nodding his head as an indication of a go signal. Keiffer responded with a sly grin, then reached for his phone and dialed something.
Then, an employee whispered in Keiffer's ear, "Sir, the cops are outside."
"Let them in," Keiffer ordered. "What perfect timing, ha ha," he murmured, looking at Simon with a playful smirk.
