Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption-Chapter 122: I will look into the matter

~At Another Side~

Desmond drove out of the Allen Group headquarters immediately after the press conference, his heart racing with expectation and joy of a won battle.

His head resting on the headrest, he closed his eyes for a brief rest, the planning and execution of the press conference had drained every ounce of strength from his body.

But then he needed to retrieve this crucial file from home and his mind was preoccupied with it.

Finally, today will be his crowning moment—the day he will be officially assuming the title of CEO. Elder Allen would finally step down, the transition would be complete, and Davis... finally was out of the picture. He mused.

He is really grateful and thankful for whoever had orchestrated Davis’s disappearance because, without that nuisance, his rise to power had been smooth. At least, there is no unnecessary drama.

The silence in the car was disrupted by the sudden, incessant ringing of his phone. His temples throbbed as the sound drilled into his head.

Desmond sighed heavily, he rubbed his throbbing temple in frustration. He had left a strict instruction with his new assistant—the one who had replaced Ethan to handle all company matters. Why was he being disturbed now?

Vera had also stayed back at the company, overseeing matters in line with their agreement they reached before she stepped into the Pres conference. There shouldn’t have been any issues urgent enough to warrant this call.

With an irritated grunt, he slid the phone out of his suit jacket. His fingers moved across the screen with a practiced swipe. Before he could even utter a greeting, his assistant’s anxious voice spilled through the speaker, breathless and tinged with panic.

"Sir, we have a major crisis. The company has been sued for tax evasion ." He said almost breathless..

Desmond’s heart clenched. The words sent an icy chill down his spine, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. His lungs felt stripped of air.

"No..." he whispered hoarsely. "That’s impossible." He muttered to himself, his mind racing with unanswered questions.

He had always been careful and meticulous. The company’s tax reports had been handled discreetly. Internal and external auditors had never raised an issue. How could this happen and at this time?

Desmond has an inkling that this might be a setup but then Who? Who had dared to expose him like this?

His grip tightened around the phone as his assistant continued, "The news is everywhere, sir. The reports include detailed evidence of previous payments, alterations in records, and undeniable proof of tax fraud. The media is tearing us apart."

Desmond’s vision blurred for a second.

Exposed. Completely. Without mercy.

A sharp sigh escaped his lips. He knew what this meant. There was no covering this up. There was no silencing this scandal.

His fingers trembled slightly as he ended the call. But just as he pulled the phone away from his ear, another call came through.

His father.

His throat tightened. The Old Man had been waiting. He had given him time to end the previous call before and the last person Desmond wanted to argue with.

Desmond hesitated before answering, but the moment he did, Elder Allen’s voice, cold and controlled, sliced through the speaker like a blade.

"Desmond, what do you mean by tax evasion?"

Desmond swallowed hard, his pulse hammering in his ears.

"Since when has the Allen Group stooped so low that it cannot pay its taxes? And what is this nonsense about underpaying your staff?"

The weight of his father’s words settled heavily in his chest. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He had been prepared for resistance, for questioning, but the sheer authority in Elder Allen’s voice left no room for pretense.

Desmond gritted his teeth, forcing himself to answer.

"Dad, I will look into the matter." His voice was steady, but inside, he was crumbling.

"Look into it?" Elder Allen scoffed. "This is your doing, isn’t it? I warned you, Desmond. You were so eager to seize power, but you forgot that power demands responsibility. Now, tell me the truth—just how deep are we in?"

Desmond exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. His father knew. He always did. But admitting the extent of the damage now would be like signing his own death sentence.

"I will fix this." It was the only answer he could give.

The line went silent for a moment, but the silence was deafening.

"You better," Elder Allen finally said, his voice laced with a dangerous finality. Then the call ended.

Desmond let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. But before he could process the conversation, another notification flashed across his phone screen.

Breaking News: The Allen Group Under Investigation for Tax Fraud

His stomach twisted violently as he opened the article. Reports flooded the media. Financial records, falsified documents, staff testimonies—evidence was being exposed in real-time.

How? Who?

His fingers clenched around the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. Someone had planned this. Someone powerful.

Davis?

No. Davis was gone. But even as he thought it, doubt gnawed at him. The timing was too perfect.

Another call came through.

His assistant, voice trembling.

"Sir, the board of trustees and shareholders are requesting your presence immediately—with the detailed and audited financial records of the past months."

Desmond’s pulse skyrocketed. "The accounting records." He mused with trepidation. He wouldn’t dare bring up the account records.

He quickly dialed the number of the man but then it couldn’t go through. He wanted to inform him, to ask him the way forward.

He had paid some huge amount of money over to him in these years to have his help and to meet with his request he had taken away the funds meant for the tax payment to him.

As for the record he had altered them claiming to have paid but there is no valid receipt, he had buried under layers of forged audits.

For the first time in years, Desmond felt something he hadn’t experienced before. Panic as it seems the world was closing in on him.

"Turn the car around," he ordered the driver, his voice sharper than a blade. "Head back to the company. Now."

The driver obeyed instantly, making a swift U-turn. The tires screeched slightly as they hit the road with urgency.

The tension in the car was suffocating, his mind running wild with possible escape routes. Damage control. A scapegoat. A plan—he needed a plan but nothing is coming forth.

But as he stared at the damning evidence flooding the media, he knew one thing for certain.

Someone had set him up. And they weren’t going to stop until he was completely destroyed.