Unmasking Mrs. Newton's Secret Identities novel Chapter 1668

Ainsley blinked in disbelief, taken aback by just how polite Lincoln was. He opened the invoice, and the sight of the numbers hit him like a punch to the gut.

"One, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand, hundred thousand, million… Six million dollars?"

With double the compensation, that meant a total of 12 million.

Ainsley glanced over at the slumped Basil, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Basil, you really went off the rails this time. Your entire lifetime's salary wouldn't even come close to covering this mess," he thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Chandler led the children down a quiet, deserted hallway. He suddenly stopped and turned to Lincoln, his expression serious.

"Why didn't you agree when Mr. Talbot begged for mercy earlier?"

"Are you actually defending him?" Lincoln asked, his confusion evident as he looked at Chandler.

"Just answer me," Chandler replied, his voice carrying an authoritative edge that left no space for argument.

"First of all, they're the ones who caused all the trouble. I showed restraint by not retaliating. Second of all, Mr. Talbot had more than enough chances to uncover the truth but chose not to.

"And lastly, being lenient with enemies only harms oneself and one's family, so I had no reason to back down," Lincoln replied evenly, his calm demeanor unshaken.

"Did your mother teach you that?" Chandler asked, his face impassive, betraying no emotion.

"I read it in a book," Lincoln replied candidly. "Books are full of wisdom and insight. I've read many that have helped me understand people and the world around me."

Chandler's lips twitched into a small smile. "It's good to see you thinking for yourself."

Curious, Jenson turned toward the noise and saw Taylor's head peeking out from underneath the table.

"What on earth are you doing? Are you trying to be a Ninja Turtle or something?" Jenson asked, genuinely surprised.

A Ninja Turtle?

As Taylor glanced back at the table, he couldn't help but think the comparison was a bit accurate.

He awkwardly bit his lip and whispered conspiratorially, "You're not being followed, are you?"

As he spoke, he stretched his neck to glance toward the door.

"Nope," Jenson replied, his composure unshaken. "Get out of there, it's dirty!"