Convenient Marriage: Mr. Nelson's Love Trap
Chapter 912: A Life for a Life

"Mr. Donald, our Mr. James wants to meet you," said Atwood.

Blithe said naturally, "Since the CEO of J&Y Group invited me, I should go meet him. Where should I meet him?"

"The box of the top floor, Royal Club. Mr. James will be waiting for you there at seven o'clock," answered Atwood.

"Okay. Please let Mr. James know I'll be there."

"Okay. I'll go back to inform him now. Thank you so much Mr. Donald. In the future, if you need me to do anything, please feel free to let me know."

Blithe waved his hand, "No hurry. We can talk about it later."

Atwood said, "Okay. See you, Mr. Donald."

Blithe hummed to answer.

Seven o'clock.

On the top floor of Royal Club, in the private box with the best view, Stanford had arrived earlier than planned.

This box was in the innermost of the corridor. It had a huge French window that occupied the whole wall. A dining table was placed next to the window. Sitting at the table, they could see the night view of the whole city.

Blithe arrived right at seven. Atwood was waiting at the door. When seeing Blithe, he walked up to him immediately and greeted him enthusiastically, "Goode evening, Mr. Donald."

Blithe nodded in response.

"Mr. James is in the box now."

Atwood showed him in.

Soon, they arrived at the door. Atwood pushed the door of the box open, "This way please, Mr. Donald."

Blithe entered.

Stanford stood up from the chair. He greeted Blithe, "Good evening, Mr. Donald."

Blithe walked to him, "Good evening, Mr. James."

They shook hands. Stanford withdrew his hand and said, "Please have a seat, Mr. Donald."

Blithe sat down and asked directly, "Mr. James, did you want to see me because of Ms. Leroy's case?"

Stanford also sat down. Without hiding, he answered, "Yes."

"Mr. James, what do you want? Or what would you like me to do?" Blithe picked up a glass of water in front of him and took a sip, "Do you want me to have mercy on her?" After all, Lindsay was working for Stanford, which wasn't a secret.

Blithe didn't think Stanford would take the initiative to see him for some other reasons.

Stanford answered, "No, I don't."

Blithe raised his eyebrows, "I see. Mr. James, what can I do for you then?"

"She murdered someone and broke the law, so she should receive the punishment. I hope she can be sentenced to death."

Blithe was a bit surprised. He had thought that Stanford wanted to save Lindsay, but it turned out to be the opposite.

"As far as I know, Ms. Leroy has been working for you for a long time, Mr. James. Don't you treasure your friendship at all?" Right then, the hotel.

After Blithe had got the appointed place, he informed Abbott about it. Abbott had installed the audio monitoring system in this box in advance, so he could hear clearly about their conversation. Abbott had already got ready to beat Stanford up. However, Stanford didn't plead for mercy for Lindsay.

It calmed Abbott down a bit.

Fortunately, Stanford hadn't lost all conscience. He could still distinguish right from wrong.

However, Abbott immediately denied the last thought. Stanford couldn't distinguish right from wrong actually.

Otherwise, he wouldn't want to avenge because of things that had happened in the past.

In the box.

Stanford refilled the water for Blithe. He said, "She's just an employee. We don't have a friendship."

"This case also involved another case one year ago, which was relevant to your late wife's death. Mr. James, you should have known it, right? The fire wasn't caused because she had committed suicide. Instead, it was the suspect Lindsay Leroy who set it up. Mr. James, what's your opinion on it?"

Stanford's hands on the table slowly intertwined. He looked quite calm but he faked it.

"I married my wife for three years..." When mentioning Amanda, Stanford couldn't continue being so calm. He continued after calming himself down a bit, "I love her very much. Her death broke my heart. I hope the murderer who had killed her should be punished by the law. Only in this case could she rest in peace."

Blithe slightly raised his eyebrows, "I remember you've divorced at that time, haven't you?"

Stanford looked down a bit, his eyelashes trembling, "Yes, we have."

"Even if we divorced, we used to love each other. Otherwise, we wouldn't have got married." His voice wasn't so cold and aggressive as usual. Instead, he sounded lack in confidence.

If their marriage was based on love only, he guessed that probably they could be quite happy together now.

"Mr. Donald, could you tell me what kind of punishment she might get?"

"A life for a life. Besides, her crime circumstances were bad and had a great impact. Even if she is not sentenced to death, she will be sentenced to life imprisonment. I think depriving a person of lifelong freedom is more torture than letting her die. What do you think, Mr. James?"

"Blithe, in this case, could you please do me a favor?" Stanford looked at him.

"Mr. James, you can go ahead tell me. If I can do it, I wouldn't turn you down. Mr. James, you are now a bigwig in our city. It's my pleasure to help you."

"Thanks in advance, Blithe. I'll not make you help me in vain. If you need my help in the future, please feel free to let me know."

They kept being polite to each other

"I don't want her to have an easy life in the prison." Stanford looked out of the window expressionlessly. Watching the bright night view, his eyes were full of coldness. "Okay. I got it," Blithe agreed.

Even if Stanford didn't say so, he would do it.

"I have to go now, Mr. James," Blithe said while standing up.

Stanford also followed him to stand up, "Mr. Donald, you haven't told me what I can do for you yet."

"Mr. James, you can owe me a favor for this time. In the future, if I need your help, I hope you won't turn me down."

"Of course."

"I'm sorry but I won't have dinner here. I still have something urgent to deal with. Mr. James, see you." Blithe waved at him.

Stanford said to the door, "Atwood, please walk Mr. Donald out."

Atwood pushed the door open and entered.

Blithe walked out of the box, followed by Atwood, "Mr. Donald, let me walk you downstairs," said he.

Blithe refused, "No thanks. You can go back to your work."

Although Blithe said so, Atwood still walked him to the elevator before going back to the box.

The box was lit up by the chandelier. The neon lights refracted through the window were quite colourful. The whole room was bright and soaked in different colours.

Stanford was standing in front of the French window, peering out. His slender figure looked endlessly lonely.

Atwood pushed the door open and walked in. Looking at him for a long while, he asked, "Will Lindsay Leroy die, Mr. James?"-------