When The Rules Are Broken ✔️

Chapter Nineteen

The pre-interview stress jangled his nerves. Had it not been for Nate, he would have ripped the anchorman, Travis Michaels, into pieces. The preening peacock kept glancing into a handheld mirror with an unsatisfied expression. It was torture sitting under the glaring lights with the condescending cameras zoomed in on his face. 

"We are going live in ten seconds," someone shouted from a dark corner with a headpiece in her ear.

Travis gave him a cat-who-got-the-cream grin before turning to face his audience. He put on a pained smile as if he prepared for the guillotine.

"And we are live."

"Good Afternoon, America. We have a special guest today. Many of you have heard of the infamous James Weston, who has been accused of insider trading. Now, it has been confirmed there are no formal charges against him or any investigation by the feds. Or maybe it's a matter of time."

James cringed at the dubious introduction. The camera panned onto his face, probing to find an iota of the supposed guilt.

"Can you look into the camera and tell everyone watching that you aren't guilty, Mr. Weston?" Travis stared hard at him.

"I have done nothing wrong." James chose not to be explicit about the question. He never did any asshole's bidding. Travis needed to learn that.

Arching an eyebrow at his vehemence, the man renewed his slew of attack. "Was it a mere coincidence that you sold most of your interest right before the V-Zone's incompetence became the news? Let's face it, if you hadn't, you would have lost millions. I'm sure you can understand the public skepticism."

"My holding in this company was small. I was never privy to anything that was going on there, which wasn't common knowledge. Beyond the professional relationship, Wallace and I maintained no contact." James refused to be cowed.

"Then why are the police investigating you, if you haven't committed a crime?" Travis probed, speculation wild on his face.

"I think you should ask the NYPD this question given there is no evidence of any wrongdoing," James answered, his tone flat.

Glancing to his right, he saw Nate rocking on the balls of his feet. The latter had warned him to keep his responses to the point. So, he abstained from outright verbal lashing. Past dealings had been a great teacher. It had taught them that anything said or written had ways of resurfacing when least expected.

"Why should anyone believe you?"

"Travis, my great-grandfather established WEC from the grounds based on ethics and sheer hard work. We don't boast about such things. What people see are only wealth and a lifestyle. I have worked my ass off to bring my company to the next level, and it will continue to thrive under me."

"Are you talking about the race to autonomous driving?"

"I don't talk about things which aren't public knowledge." James stifled a groan at the irony of it.

The newscaster seemed to ponder about something but then thought better of it. "If you are convicted. James, you would lose everything, and the reputation of your company will suffer. You must be aware of the consequences of such an event."

"I think you mentioned earlier that there is no investigation against me." Maintaining his composure, he glared at Travis, who shrank into his chair.

"You aren't guilty,"

"No."

"You will not go to jail."

"No."

"You didn't commit any crime."