He rose to his feet, adjusted his collar, and leisurely walked towards Pearson.

He nudged the door open.

Without mincing his words, Pearson began, “Was it you who sent the recording to me?"

Pearson slammed his phone on the table.

Stetson, sitting opposite him, was the epitome of calm.

His legs were crossed casually.

"Indeed, it was me."

"What do you want?"

A shadow crossed Pearson's face.

“Aren't your actions a bit too unethical?"

“Unethical?”

Stetson seemed amused by the word.

“Are you really lecturing me about ethics?" Stetson sneered, “Have you forgotten your own unethical deeds? How do you think you build that office building? Others may be clueless, but I'm fully aware.

Someone lost their life in the process, didn't they?"

Pearson's eyes narrowed, “I've made amends for that."

"Made amends? You shattered a family to acquire the land. Could the word compensation absolve you of all guilt?"

“What exactly are you driving at?" Pearson's temper seemed to flare.

Stetson smirked.

"There's no need to rush."

He continued at a leisurely pace, “You manipulated my family crisis to win the project, telling my ex-wife I was unfaithful. The subsequent divorce distracted me, giving you the upper hand..."