Chapter 55 Pure

Maggie's hands were becoming numb and sore from the pressing, but every time she thought of stopping, Harold would squeeze her waist or pinch her buttocks, signaling her to continue.
In truth, her technique was not skilled, and the rhythm was chaotic, scratching his flesh with her nails.
There was pleasure, but pain.
Harold's chest was as hard as a steel plate, causing Maggie's soft chest to ache. "I'm about to be marinated."
He opened his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I took a shower, and you smell like alcohol."
Maggie was a clean freak. Her pores were as clear as a freshly peeled egg, pure and flawless, like a dew-covered white flower. It was hard to doubt her words.
Changing leadership in the party and government was a fierce battle. When some people rose, others must fall.
No one wanted to be left behind at this critical moment.
Everyone was trying their best to make connections, visit officials, though it was no time before the changing. Harold was serving the number one figure in the city, and the official position and deputy position were natural rivals, the elusive and subtle factions who don't give in to each other.
Even if those in his camp couldn't offer assistance, they still had to show closeness and friendship at the dinner table a couple of times.
In the ever-changing power arena, every force was in flux. Uncertainly, there were hundreds and thousands of dollar bills hidden behind masks. He was immersed in this social class and had to follow its rules. "I will restrain myself next time I drink," he said.
Maggie cupped his face and caressed his stubble on his chin. "Are you still tired?"
The man's pupils were darker than the night. "No."
With each twist, her silky smooth skin clung to him, stimulating Harold's surging emotions. The ardor of a drunken man often came on fiercely. Harold spread open her legs and pressed against her plump hips, allowing her to feel his terrifyingly thick and hard erection. His voice was tinged with teasing. "I can still erect."
"Secretary..." Nick stood at the entrance, holding two exquisitely decorated fruit specialties, his expression uneasy. He had a good sense of timing, rarely being so rash.
Harold composed. "Just say it."
A rich, feminine fragrance overwhelmed the scent of alcohol in the room. Nick hesitated whether to enter or not. "These were found in the trunk of the car."
Maggie peeked out from his embrace, her eyes sparkling. "You two have something to discuss, I'll go upstairs."
"It's alright."
Harold refused to let go. Maggie sat between his thighs, struggling in vain. She bit her lip, her face filled with embarrassment as she hid in his shirt.
Nick entered the room, his gaze focused straight ahead. He placed the two boxes on the table.
"Check the car's black box to find out who put it there. The weight is heavy, seasonal fruits on the surface and over three hundred thousand dollars beneath."
Harold smiled without any warmth. "They're trying to frame me."
"Since the source is unknown, returning it is not an option. Secretary, how should we handle this?"
"Leave the items here, I'll hand them over to the authorities tomorrow."
After Nick left, Maggie used both hands and feet to free herself from his embrace. Curiosity got the best of her and she opened the boxes. Stacks of money were neatly arranged inside, shiny and vibrant, making her eyes blur. She pointed.
"There's three hundred thousand here?"
"Are you tempted?"
"No." Maggie withdrew her hand. "Money obtained by greed is like borrowing from a ghost." Harold's smile grew wider. "Who taught you that?" Her eyelashes trembled.
"My family."
Maggie's father worked in education, instilling in her a righteous upbringing.
Their family wasn't wealthy, but they never lived in scarcity or let her suffer.
That pure and innocent nature was deeply ingrained in her character. It originated from her harmonious and victorious childhood.
The next day, Harold brought the two boxes of golf balls to the FBI office.
The Vice President of the Commission for Discipline Inspection chuckled. "When it comes to politics, nothing is scarier than anticorruption inspections. They treat us like mortal enemies, cursing their ancestors. Secretary of Williams took a different approach."
He remained calm and collected. "What should come will come."
This wasn't the first time encountering such situations, so handling it was a piece of cake.
It wasn't just about cash, but sending funds was the most reckless and conspicuous.
Nowadays, secret bribes were valued, calligraphy and paintings, fine watches, tobacco and alcohol, women, real estate.
Through various channels and occasions, it was disguised as gifts, but in reality, it was a transaction of money and power.
Harold was indifferent to money. His father, Mr. Edwards, is involved in extensive business dealings in Havenport, straddling both the official and business worlds.
Although their relationship as father and son was distant, as high-born individuals in their twenties, they were surrounded by the honor of their family wherever they go. Their names appeared in the newspapers and few dared to not give them face.
They were treated like masters, with an inherent arrogance. Almost everything that could be enjoyed through money and influence has been enjoyed to the fullest.