Seize His Little Wife

What was in the folder was a breakdown of Molly Bort’s money flow that she’d had Dennis look into, transfers to and from the accounts, and it was extraordinarily detailed, even the video membership that Molly Bort had spent thirty bucks on had a record on it.

But that small amount of money didn’t bother Christine White much, what she did care about, was those big transfers in and out of Molly Bort.

The profile says that every month for the past six years, Molly Bort has had large amounts transferred out of the country, destined for a foreign country, to the account of a cardholder named Toby Dean.

“Toby Dean …” Christine White whispered the name.

Isn’t that the man Molly Bort really loved?

Looks like Molly Bort is paying to keep that Toby Dean.

Christine White flipped the information back a page, and on the latter page was a summary of the transfers, and Christine White’s chest puffed out in anger as she took a look at the numbers on it.

Over the course of six years, Molly Bort actually transferred five or six hundred million dollars one after another to that Toby Dean!

That’s her own mother’s money, and it’s being spent by Molly Bort to support wild men. It’s hateful!

And that’s not all, Christine White scrolls back and realizes that Molly Bort didn’t just spend so much money raising Toby Dean, she was actually involved in the drug powder side of the business.

Poison powder is very valuable, a gram is several hundred, and Molly Bort actually spent two to three hundred million dollars on it as well, trying to make a huge profit, but the organization she invested in was seized three years ago, so naturally the money could not be recovered, and Molly Bort was not investigated because of her deep hiding.

It had to be said, though, that Molly Bort had more guts than she could have ever imagined, even daring to get her hands on something like poisonous powder.

And the rest of the hundreds of millions, except for the construction of that ballet school, was spent by Molly Bort herself in a big way.

Christine White’s heart is pumping after reading this.

To her, this was all her money, but it was being used by Molly Bort, and it was hard for her to swallow.

“Dennis.” Christine White reentered the manipulation department and slapped the file in front of Dennis.

Dennis frowned, “What do you want?”

“But in detail, I want to know the purpose of Molly Bort’s transfers to Toby Dean, I don’t believe that she is simply yanking on Toby Dean, it takes one person, it doesn’t take millions of dollars to transfer them over every month, and I want to know the detailed records of Molly Bort’s involvement in the drug powder trade.” Christine White said looking at him.

With a record of buying and selling poisonous powders, and two counts of intentional homicide, Molly Bort is out of jail, most likely on death row.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.” Denise glared unhappily at Christine White, and although a little reluctant, she turned on her computer and looked it up for her.

Christine White, knowing he was highly skilled, stood by and waited.

After waiting about half an hour, Dennis printed something out.

Christine White walked over to the printer and took the print out.

“Here’s a note from that Chi something or other, transferring money to Toby Dean as hush money.” Dennis said.

Christine White frowned, “What hush money?”

“I don’t know, just ask your brother to ask for you.” Dennis circled his arm coldly.

Christine White nodded, “That’s fine, what about the records of the drug powder sales Molly Bort was involved in?”

Dennis face darkened, “This information is a bit hard to find, after all, it’s been three years, a lot of information has been deleted, I can’t recover it for a while, it will take some time.”

“How long will it take?” Christine White asked.

Dennis nodded his chin in thought, “About three or five days.”

“Okay, then, please.” Christine White nodded.

Denise waved her hand, signaling that she could go.

Christine White got what she wanted and naturally didn’t stick around.

Dennis is a man of many faults, likes solitude, likes the dark, and won’t stay with one person for long at all times.

Stay long enough and he’ll have to kick people out.

Back in her office, Christine White carefully locked the papers in a drawer; they were evidence, too.

She then looked at the time, almost noon, and she took out her cell phone and called Baird Lane.

She fell asleep drunk and woke up at this time of night, which should make sense.

Thinking, Christine White put her cell phone to her ear.

The call came through and Baird Lane’s voice came through gently, “Christine.”

Hearing him call himself again in such a gentle voice after six years, Christine White couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her heart, and the tip of her nose flared slightly.

She didn’t give it away, though, and responded in her usual tone, “Baird, were you the one who drove me home last night? I remember calling you when I was drunk.”

There was a sudden silence on the phone, and it took a moment before Baird Lane’s voice resumed, “You … don’t remember last night?”

“Last night? Did anything happen last night besides you taking me home?” Christine White said, feigning bewilderment.

On the other end of the line, Baird Lane drops his eyelids to hide the darkness in his eyes.

I can’t believe she forgot.

But it doesn’t matter. He just remembers.

“Nothing happened.” Baird Lane said.

Christine White looked as if she was relieved, “Yeah, that’s good, I thought I was going to get drunk or throw up or something.”

“No, you’re a good drinker.” Baird Lane said with a light cough against his lips.

She didn’t get drunk, but she did have a little childish tantrum.

But it’s cute.

“That’s good that’s good, thanks Baird you gave me a ride home last night, how about I buy you dinner tonight?” Christine White took the initiative to propose.

I thought he’d say yes, but I didn’t think he’d say no.

“I probably can’t tonight, I have some things I need to take care of.”

“So.” Christine White returned with a feigned loss.

Baird Lane had his heart in his mouth, “How about tomorrow night?”

“That’ll work too.” Christine White nodded.

“It’s decided then Christine, I’ll leave you to it, I’ve got something here.” Baird Lane said to the phone as he glanced at the office door location.

Christine White hmmm’d, “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“See you tomorrow night.” Baird Lane’s lips lifted.Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

Putting down his cell phone, he gathered his expression and resumed his coldness, “Come in.”

The man at the door pushed his way in, with a file in his hand.

“President Lane, here are the divorce papers you asked me to print.” Gates handed over the information.

Baird Lane took it and looked at it, “Nothing else involved, right?”

“No, when you first married Molly Bort, Furber created a number of contracts for you to sign for Molly Bort, all of which were unfavorable to Molly Bort, meaning that in the event of a divorce between you, Molly Bort would get nothing, a complete clean break.” Gates replied.

Baird Lane nodded, “Good, you can have someone go abroad and notify Toby Dean ah, and after that, send Ann Lane to him.”

“Okay.” Gates answered.

Baird Lane closed the agreement and stood up, “Prepare the car, I’m going to The Bort Family Villa.”

Now that the divorce papers are done, there’s no point in dragging it out, it’s better to get Molly Bort to sign them before it’s too late.

“Yes!” Gates nodded, then turned to go out.

Baird Lane straightened his clothes and lifted his foot out of the office as well.

A few minutes later, he drove away from The Lane Family Group and towards The Bort Family villa.

After nearly forty minutes of driving, the destination arrived.

Baird Lane got out of the car and walked straight into the villa and up to the second floor.

The two bodyguards guarding the door saw him and saluted, “President Lane!”

“Where is she?” Baird Lane asked.

“Inside, recuperating.”

“Open the door!” Baird Lane commanded.

The bouncer answered and opened the door.

Baird Lane walks in and sees Molly Bort, sprawled out on the bed, dying, her expression cold and unchanged.

Molly Bort had been awake when she heard footsteps, and she looked up weakly, a flash of horror crossing her eyes when she saw that it was he who was coming.

“What are you … doing here?”