Oops, Mommy Slept With A Tyrant
Chapter 243 Maxwell Kensington

Chapter 243: Chapter 243 Maxwell Kensington

In Adler Group, the five people stood around, waiting for something, anything, to happen after Jane pushed the button.

Several seconds later, Craig shifted uncomfortably, hopping from one foot to the other for a while before voicing out worriedly, "What if it’s a bomb?"

"Ms. Sutton wouldn’t mail a bomb to me." Jane exhaled lightly, her eyes narrowing at the button again.

Craig turned to her with a huff, "That’s what I’m saying. How are you certain she’s the one who sent it? She didn’t confirm doing so down at the station with you, did she?"

Jett immediately glanced at Jane and she sucked in a deep breath.

Indeed, she hadn’t thought of that.

She was going to call Kelsie this morning to find out why she mailed a box to her in the first place, only for her to call from the interrogation room saying she had been arrested.

So she did what anyone would do to help a client in trouble—take the box mailed to her in the cover of night to the one person she was asked to be with when she pushed the button inside _{f.r(e)e\webn.ovel.co\m}

Pointing at the box shakily, she suddenly stumbled backward and gulped down hard.

"I never told Ms. Sutton my home address... how did she know where to send it?"

"Keep the phone! Just let me get the hell out of here. Please!" Craig yelled, desperately trying to shove Eric out of the way, even more convinced the box was a bomb.

Jane clenched her jaw tightly, her voice trembling slightly, "I didn’t think that kid from the Baker family still held a grudge against Ms. Sutton. But even if he does, mailing a bomb to me is just too much."

Jett was the only one who remained calm and collected as he quietly thought it through.

Bryan Baker was too dumb to get his hands on something as complex as a bomb disguised as a box.

If this was anything close to what they feared, it wouldn’t be sent by the Baker family. Instead, it’d be the...

"Lois, you want me, so I’m here!" A voice suddenly boomed at the end of the hallway.

"Sir, excuse me, you’re not supposed to be here. If you have anything to discuss with Mr. Adler, I suggest you book an appointment first." Came the familiar voice of the secretary in front.

"Lois, I’m here! I told you to push the button if you wished to summon me. Though, I must say, twenty-six years is far too long to wait!" The same voice chuckled, a hopeful tremor hidden underneath.

"Master, we have to go in. The signal seems to be coming from inside." Another voice chipped in.

"I swear, if you take even a step closer, I won’t hesitate to call security and have you thrown out!" The secretary snapped impatiently.

But they only heard a mocking laughter.

"Did this coat fool you already? You bring in security with the intent to harm my Master, and I’ll rack up quite the bill for your Adler Group—and possibly a few disability pensions for your guards."

It was both a warning and a threat.

"Don’t just stand there, Jett. They came for you. You should go see them." Craig couldn’t listen any longer and probed Jett, still trembling like a leaf.

"Leave this to me, Mr. Adler. I’ll take care of..." Eric was saying when the sound of subtle footsteps filled the room as two men strode in briskly.

The one trailing behind wore a hat and sunglasses, his coat billowing behind him as he held up a computer he peered into with all seriousness.

The tall man in front, broad-shouldered, had sunglasses shielding his anticipating eyes, his coat dancing in the breeze as he halted in the center of the room.

"Tell Lois the one she summoned has just made his entrance."

Jett, however, didn’t move an inch, scrutinizing the man and his butler from where he stood.

The man glanced around the room as though the others didn’t exist. After a moment, he frowned and peeked at the time on his wristwatch.

"She calls me here then runs off? Aren’t we a little too old for such games?"

The butler’s brows knitted slightly when he looked down at the laptop, realizing they weren’t even in the exact spot the signal from was coming from.

Jane and Jett stood with their backs turned to it, shielding it from view, so he couldn’t see it from where he stood.

Following the signal on the laptop, the butler began stepping toward them.

When he got to them, it showed he was standing at the exact location, so he bent over and just as he expected, the briefcase sat prettily on the floor.

"Why do you have that?"

"You’re in my company. I should be asking the questions." Jett glanced down at him, retorting stoically.

"I asked where you got Ms. Fletcher’s box." The butler repeated through clenched teeth, slowly getting on his feet.

Jett, who was just about to tell Eric to call security, froze at the mention of that name.

"Fletcher? Do you mean Lois Fletcher?"

The butler’s master snapped his head toward them at that moment.

"You know the name, good. That means we’re in the right place. Now go ahead and call her."

Jett looked him over.

The sunglasses hid much of his face, but his naturally squared shoulders and air of authority sparked a realization.

"Who are you?"

In response, the man slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of very familiar brown eyes.

They were warm, bright—yet cold.

Handing the glasses to his butler, he slid both hands into his pockets, his cheeks pulling into a small, apologetic smile.

"In my rush to meet her, I left my manners downstairs."

"Maxwell Kensington. You must be Lois’s business partner. I read about the Adler family on the way here, seems it’s gotten quite big over the past few years. That’s because of her, isn’t it?"

Craig and Jane didn’t understand a word he said, but Jett and Eric were stunned.

The Kensington family?

One of the so-called ghost families rumored to possess unimaginable wealth.

Unlike most families with generational wealth who got rich at some point, the Kensingtons were said to be rich from the very beginning. They were never poor.

As time passed, they only grew more sophisticated, quietly expanding and just as quietly retreating from public eye.

Back then, it was said that a Kensington was born already knowing the back and front of a laptop.

The moment they opened their eyes, all they could see was code. And the moment they understood what a computer was, they’d begin writing it.

Yes, some of it was exaggerated—but most of it was absurdly true. They were the original geniuses of computing.

It wasn’t far-fetched to call them the founders of everything that could be coded, built, or programmed.

"This madman must’ve lost his way in. Hurry up and call security so they can throw them out—along with the bomb," Craig groaned impatiently from behind.

"Bomb?" The butler snickered and bent to pick up the briefcase.

"I don’t expect a simpleminded fool like you to understand something as sophisticated, complex, and rare as this."

"This is the first tracking briefcase Master Kensington ever made. It was so effective, he made only ten. In the tech world, this is known as the tracking brief. All efforts to replicate it by other engineers have failed."

"Not only does the exterior resemble a regular briefcase—it doesn’t rust. You could drop it in water, and as long as the button is pressed, we’ll know where it is. That’s why the last eight he made were auctioned off two years ago for 12 billion."

"T-twelve billion? Who in their right mind would buy a box for that much?" Craig scoffed.

The butler merely glared at him while Maxwell chuckled.

"This was one of my first two models. It was designed to help you pack and follow you wherever you go in the world. It doubles as a chair, a stool, and a table."

"My last eight, however, I made it possible to be turned into a pocket-sized, wrist locket after realizing bored billionaires with nothing better to do liked to explore uncharted manholes."

"They could pack clothes, shrink it, and wear it as a wristwatch. If they got stuck somewhere, they’d use it."

"It worked so well, the first user testified to it. Other billionaires with similar hobbies began fighting over it, hence the high value."

"Now, that’s enough. I believe I’ve earned the right to see Lois after twenty-six years. Let me see her."

Jett thinned his lips and quietly looked away.

Craig strolled toward them and sighed tiredly, "What nonsense are you spouting? I’m certain Kelsie Sutton isn’t even twenty-six yet, and she’s the one who asked us to push the button."

"So if you’re looking for someone who should be your age, I believe it should be a woman in her fifties. Her mother, perhaps? But the last time I looked into Kelsie, her biological mother died in a car accident twenty-six years ago."