In the city office, Wyatt waved his secretary away, holding the phone. "Ms. Zeller," he said politely, "what can I do for you?"

In the Chambers Group meeting room, Yvette spoke with a cool tone. "Is it okay if I put this on speaker?"

Wyatt readily agreed. "Of course. Everyone here knows Ms. Zeller."

Yvette placed her phone on the table and pressed speaker. A familiar yet unfamiliar voice filled the room. "Hello, what do you need?"

Lucas, seated behind Yvette, sat up abruptly. He recognized the voice; he'd heard it just days before. Yvette's courage surprised him; her counterattack had been decisive. He wondered what would happen next, given Nelson and Warron's previous attempt to intimidate her with Wyatt's name, only to have her call him directly.

The others exchanged puzzled glances. They were discussing the east suburb project, and Yvette's sudden call with a stranger was bewildering. Whispers rippled through the room:

"Who is she calling during the case discussion?" "How did this even happen?" "Is she contacting a big shot to pull strings?" "He doesn't seem like it. Powerful people aren't usually so approachable." "She doesn't sound like she's asking for a favor." "Do you think... could it be Mayor Langford?" "Stop dreaming! How would she have his private number? Even our chairman probably doesn't have it." "You're right. I was joking. But what if she does know him? Ms. Zeller just returned from Betrico; it's not unheard of." "Do you think officials have nothing better to do than call a chess player? That's absurd."

Then, the voice on the phone said, "This is Wyatt."

All eyes snapped to the phone. Shock, surprise, and disbelief were etched on their faces. Nelson's hand trembled as he held his cup; hot water spilled onto his hand, unnoticed in his astonishment. Warron's smugness vanished, replaced by a mixture of emotions—he looked utterly lost. He never imagined Yvette possessed Wyatt's number, much less her audacity in addressing him so directly. He shuddered, realizing it wasn't just the number, but her attitude. Their conversation suggested an unusual closeness.

Nelson awkwardly set down his cup, his hands still shaking. The phone on the table became the focal point, its speaker broadcasting the voice of Seacrity's top dog, a familiar face from the evening news.

Yvette nonchalantly crossed her legs, her eyelids half-closed as she surveyed the room. "The Chambers Group's bid for the east suburb project is ready," she said calmly, "but the city keeps delaying the review, expecting concessions. Should I give them what they want?"

Silence descended upon the room; the tension was palpable. This was far beyond their pay grade. Yvette wasn't asking for a favor; she was reporting the lower departments' misconduct to Wyatt. While rebates were common, the city's demands were excessive—the chairman had refused, hence the delay. They understood the concept of officials protecting each other; they assumed Wyatt would merely pacify Yvette with empty reassurances. Nelson and Warron felt a surge of relief.

They'd initially underestimated Yvette, deeming her foolish to accuse the mayor's team of corruption directly. Their fear subsided, replaced by a gleeful anticipation of her downfall. They didn't care if she knew the mayor; if she was asking for trouble, she deserved it.

The room was silent. Everyone awaited Wyatt's response, expecting an outburst.

Wyatt, on the other end, felt a surge of tension. He was due back in Betrico, yet corruption still festered despite his efforts. These fools dared to extort the Chambers Group—unaware of their connections to the marshal's family. The situation was a headache, especially since Yvette's arrival at Chambers Group had placed it directly in her hands.

"Ms. Zeller," Wyatt said quickly, "don't worry. I'll investigate this thoroughly. Anyone found guilty will face strict consequences. I'll personally handle the east suburb project, expediting approvals once the paperwork is complete. My secretary will contact Chambers Group shortly. Is that satisfactory, Ms. Zeller?"

Wyatt's words were clear, his tone unexpectedly respectful. The room erupted in a renewed wave of astonishment. Wyatt was the mayor, and his demeanor towards Yvette was… deferential? He'd offer personal intervention, promising swift action, and even inquired about her satisfaction.

Everyone stared at Yvette, impassive at the head of the table. A shiver ran down their spines. Wyatt's words made Yvette seem like the one in charge.

Nelson dropped his coffee cup, the sound shattering the stunned silence. He quickly retrieved it, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry, Ms. Zeller," he stammered, his earlier confidence gone. He'd underestimated her, failing to grasp her influence. If the mayor treated her with such respect, Nelson realized he needed to recalculate his alliances; his partnership with Warron might prove disastrous.