Chapter 380: Scandal

At 3:15 PM, inside an office on the ninth floor of the Atlanta Educators Building.

Two figures were entangled beside the desk.

"We can't, Mr. Chairman, this is an office. Someone might see."

"What's wrong with you, darling? It's not the first time. Outside is my personal assistant; he's very reliable."

"Really, we can't. My husband is coming home today. Can we do it another day, OK? I don't want him to suspect anything. Besides, this afternoon is when Loran Elementary School students are scheduled to tour our building."

"Hey! Bitch, when I helped you buy that car, you didn't say that. As for those elementary school kids, it's still early."

Clough Arnold, impatient, used his hands to tear off a large piece of clothing.

But in the next instant, the wooden door outside the office was violently hammered, producing a continuous 'bang bang' sound.

"Mr. Chairman, something's happened outside. I think you need to see it for yourself."

Arnold's face showed anger, but after hesitating for a moment, he released the woman who had already given up resistance and strode to the door.

"Casey! You'd better have a good reason, or else I'll deduct your bonus, I mean it—"

When Clough Arnold unlocked the door, his voice abruptly stopped. Because before him, his assistant Casey's face was as pale as paper, without a trace of color.

"What's going on? Why do you look like a ghost? What happened?"

"BOSS, you need to see this. Southern Cable News' political news program."

Casey directly pulled the chairman of the Atlanta Board of Education into another office, where a TV was playing. Clough Arnold glanced at the logo in the top right corner and recognized it as Southern Cable News.

His attention was soon drawn to the program's content, and his pupils gradually contracted as the color drained from his face.

"—So, is it true, as whistleblower A claims, that there has been embezzlement of education subsidies for the disabled? Are the accounts and video evidence provided by Mr. A authentic? We then interviewed Ms. Russell (pseudonym), a mid-level manager at the Atlanta Board of Education who is well-versed in its inner workings."

"So this is true, Ms. Russell?"

"Yes, I witnessed it myself. The Atlanta government allocates 230 million gold shields annually as education subsidies for the disabled, but one-third is misappropriated, and another third ends up in the pockets of those gluttons. I even have evidence proving that Clough Arnold, using his authority, manipulated the procurement of educational equipment, profiting at least 40 million gold shields."

"They even colluded with the FBI. The current Atlanta Comptroller, Ms. Elizabeth Isolde, has sent three letters to the FBI requesting an investigation into the corruption of the Atlanta Board of Education. But each time, it came to nothing. They claimed Mr. Arnold was innocent, that someone was framing and smearing this honest gentleman."

"We have no choice. My colleagues and I can no longer stand by and watch the futures of disabled students be embezzled."

"I have sent the evidence I collected to the Georgia Post, the Atlanta Laborer Daily, and the Atlanta Daily Telegraph. They said they would uphold their journalistic duty and publish it in today's special editions. Also, if the time is right, I will come forward—I mean, using my real name."

At this moment, Clough Arnold's hands were trembling.

"Find her! Find this woman named Russell! And that whistleblower A—"

Arnold roared like a tyrant, then quickly returned to his office and dialed someone's mobile phone.

"Have you seen Southern Cable News' political program? If not, ask around as soon as possible. Mandev, you must help me this time. Suppress this as fast as you can, or we're both finished. Yes, finished! If I'm done for, you won't fare well either, Mandev!"

Mandev Ferguson, who received the call, was riding in his Norfolk Aegis stretch limousine on his way back to the Ferguson News Building.

"Southern Cable News?"

He had the driver turn on the car TV, but by then the program was almost over.

So Mandev Ferguson made another call, and then he was stunned.

"You mean today's program on Southern Cable News exposed Arnold and the Board of Education's corruption? What exactly was the content?"

"Education subsidies for the disabled and procurement of educational equipment? Do they have evidence?"

"The Georgia Post is involved too, right?"

Mandev Ferguson's breath was icy cold, and he was unusually irritable. He turned to his assistant and ordered: "Have someone buy the special editions of the Georgia Post, the Atlanta Laborer Daily, and the Atlanta Daily Telegraph. They should be out by now. I want to see them when I return to the Ferguson News Building."

"Understood!"

The female assistant said with a grave expression: "BOSS, this situation is unusual. Firefly Media and their backer, Flag Group, have always had a pleasant cooperation with us. Why would they suddenly attack? Also, if it really is Flag Group, this storm might not be easy to quell."

"Of course it's unusual. Someone is targeting me—and hitting where it hurts."

Mandev Ferguson snorted coldly, then made another call, this time to the CEO's office of Firefly Media.

"Mr. Noah, I want to ask, what's the meaning of today's news on your Southern Cable News? I want to know what you're thinking. Flag Group—"

When the call connected, Mandev spoke in a cold voice, but then he was stunned again. From the receiver came an elegant yet hard female voice.

"Stop, OK? This has nothing to do with Flag Group, Mr. Ferguson."

"Nanette Drew?"

Mandev Ferguson instantly recognized the owner of the voice, and his eyes narrowed: "So it seems Firefly Media's situation has taken an unexpected turn, hasn't it?"

"A few days ago, this media company was fully acquired by our BOSS for 590 million gold shields."

Nanette Drew's voice was devoid of warmth: "Then, my BOSS asked me to send you his regards. He also wants me to ask you: Are you ready to pay the price, Mr. Ferguson? The war between us starts now."

After saying that, Nanette Drew hung up without waiting for his reply.

On the other end of the line, Mandev Ferguson was dazed. When he came to, his right hand involuntarily tightened, crushing the mobile phone in his grip into pieces!