What? Cat Got Your Tongue, Executive Senior Director Han?

Tension crackled through the sunroom like a live wire as Qui Bo Han spat out the accusation and hurled the stack of incriminating photos at Han Ke Ming. His hand trembled with barely contained fury, sending the images scattering across the polished floor and table like fallen leaves. Han Ke Ming's face drained of color, his fists clenching reflexively at his sides.

Han Ke Ming's mind went blank for a moment as he stared at the photos. He could barely make out the blurred images, but he knew they spelled trouble. His heart pounded in his chest, a wild, erratic beat that drowned out the ambient noises of the room. The memory of that night at Club Fester came rushing back – the haze of alcohol, the vague recollections of conversations with Wang Hai. That night, Wang Hai had assaulted a girl in the room. What if the person who took these pictures had also witnessed that and listened in on the conversation they had about Feng Tian?