Everyone Can Hear My Thoughts, and Now They're Panicking

Jane Lancaster had already noticed the staff member’s familiar figure, and now that he had spoken, she scrambled to get away.

Watching her quickly back away, Caleb Lowell ultimately retracted his hand.

Clayton Lowell looked flustered. "Sean, what are you doing here?"

He felt a suffocating pressure. He had just been thinking of using Caleb Lowell as a selling point, and now here he was, appearing out of thin air.

Clayton Lowell wanted to step down from the stage as well, but his bulky frame made it difficult. He could only force a wide smile. "Would you like to come up and say a few words to everyone?"

Caleb Lowell didn’t answer, turning instead to explain to Jane Lancaster, "You asked me to find out what was going on, so I came."

Jane Lancaster eyed the staff uniform he was wearing. "...President Lowell, you must be joking."

’Nonsense. I never told you to dress like this and sneak in!’

’The way you’re phrasing that is so misleading. People are going to think I put you up to this.’

On the stage, Clayton Lowell was filled with a mix of shock and fury. ’Aha! I knew Jane Lancaster was up to no good!’

Caleb Lowell glanced up at Clayton Lowell and composed himself.

With a single push, he agilely vaulted onto the stage.

Una Holt greeted him with a smile, "Cousin."

Caleb Lowell didn’t even glance at her. He took the microphone and his gaze swept over to Clayton Lowell, who was forcing a smile.

A few days ago, he had made a special trip to the old family home to visit Clayton Lowell and Mrs. Everett.

To be honest, he’d had his suspicions about Clayton Lowell’s recent, drastic weight gain. But that was before he saw his uncle tie on an apron and personally cook an entire spread of food. Only then did he realize he’d been overthinking things.

Mrs. Everett wasn’t deliberately making Clayton Lowell overeat every day; it was Clayton Lowell himself who had devoted his time to studying the culinary arts, which led to his gradual weight gain.

Over dinner, Clayton Lowell had talked about how his hobbies had shifted from literature and classical music to cooking, explaining that literature and music were utterly useless.

As a man, he had ambitions and aspirations. He wanted to run his own business, not be a failure who accomplished nothing, like some pretty ornament.

Recalling Clayton Lowell’s words from that day, Caleb Lowell’s heart softened.

"My uncle has actually been devoting himself to the culinary arts recently," Caleb Lowell said, glancing toward Jane Lancaster in the distance. "I’ve tasted his cooking for myself, and it’s genuinely delicious."

Jane Lancaster mulled it over.

’Why is he looking at me like that? Is he trying to tell me that he saw Clayton Lowell cook with his own eyes?’

’So the real question is, did you want to have more after you were done?’

"Is Uncle’s cooking really that good?" Una Holt chimed in with a supportive smile.

Caleb Lowell had ignored her greeting earlier, but now he answered her definitively. "It’s delicious. So good that I wanted more even after I was full."

Una Holt was ecstatic. "Then I’m in for a treat in the future."

She suddenly felt that her hundred-million-dollar investment was worth it. Completely worth it!

This way, she could often have family dinners with Caleb Lowell. Over time, she was sure he would eventually see how great she was!

Jane Lancaster lowered her gaze, lost in thought.

Caleb Lowell retracted his gaze and continued, "However, investing should be approached with caution. It has nothing to do with how good my uncle’s cooking is. I hope everyone will consider this carefully."

Regardless, it was wrong to use him as a gimmick to lure in investors.

If people were investing based on their trust in Clayton Lowell and their confidence in the project, then he wouldn’t object.

"If you’re just blindly following the crowd, you’re bound to get burned and lose your entire investment." Caleb Lowell’s tone grew heavy, hoping to deter some of the attendees.

But if people still insisted on investing, he wasn’t going to stop them.

They were all adults and should have their own judgment. He had said his piece; he wouldn’t take responsibility for their risks.

The audience was in an uproar. They had thought Caleb Lowell was here to support Clayton Lowell, but now it didn’t seem that way at all.

The more timid members of the audience immediately had second thoughts. They had assumed that Caleb Lowell and The Lowell Group were providing their seal of approval, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

Others, however, interpreted Caleb Lowell’s words differently. Clayton and Caleb were uncle and nephew, after all. It was impossible that he wouldn’t support his uncle’s venture...

They took his words as a test and became even more eager to invest.

Clayton Lowell was still deeply dissatisfied. He could have raised so much more money, but now more than half the people had backed out. He had put so much money and effort into this appreciation event; it was a total waste.

But he couldn’t turn on Caleb Lowell, so he could only glare at the one who started it all.

And then he saw that Jane Lancaster had somehow gotten back on stage.

"Stop! What do you think you’re doing?" Clayton Lowell suppressed his rage. "Are you trying to steal the pastries? I’m sorry, but those are a perk reserved for our SVIP customers."

Una Holt added, "You’re not trying to play the part of some cutesy foodie, are you? At your age, do you really think that’s adorable?"

’Hmph, when it comes down to it, isn’t she just trying to get Caleb’s attention?’

’Does she think people can’t see through her little tricks? So shameless.’

Jane Lancaster ignored her. She reached out, uncovered a platter on the dessert cart, picked up a pastry, and crushed it before bringing it to her nose to smell.

"What do you think you’re doing?" Una Holt froze for a second. "You don’t actually think they’re poisoned, do you?"

"That’s right. They’re poisoned. Don’t eat them." Jane Lancaster lifted the entire platter and dumped its contents into the trash bin attached to the side of the cart.

Clayton Lowell nearly fainted from rage. This was a blatant provocation!

"Jay!" Caleb Lowell yanked the cart away to stop Jane Lancaster from destroying the rest of the pastries. He frowned. "Calm down. My uncle made these himself."

’He suspected Jane mistakenly thought Mrs. Everett had made them.’

"Security! Grab her, now!" Una Holt shrieked.

This time, Jane Lancaster leaped off the stage and turned to leave.

’A bunch of idiots. You’re all insane. And I can’t believe I actually fell for your crap.’

’Even the pastries are laced with trace amounts of poppy husks. How could the rest of the food be safe?’

’Since you all love it so much, go ahead and eat your fill. It’s not like it’ll kill you, anyway.’

Seeing several security guards give chase, Alvin Lancaster scrambled to his feet, spreading his arms to block them from reaching Jane Lancaster. "What are you doing? It’s just a plate of pastries! I’ll pay for them!"

Willow Summers didn’t quite understand why Jane Lancaster had destroyed the pastries, but she had her back unconditionally.

She shot up and rushed forward. "Why are you making such a huge scene? Don’t tell me there’s actually something wrong with them?"

"Nonsense!" Clayton Lowell was about to lose his mind with rage. They were actually turning this back on him! "I made those pastries with my own two hands! What could possibly be wrong with them?"

Caleb Lowell frowned at Jane Lancaster. "Jay, you’ve really misunderstood. My uncle would never have any ill intentions."

Lana Sterling felt like her head was spinning. How could there be another twist? Who was she supposed to believe now?

"Auntie, what are you spacing out for?" Jasper Sterling said as he got up and walked over. "You don’t actually still want to eat those poisonous pastries, do you?"

Caleb Lowell’s gaze froze, his expression slowly turning grave. ’Jasper Sterling is here, too?’

He subconsciously glanced behind him. If he remembered correctly, Jane Lancaster had also seemed to come from that direction earlier.

Clayton Lowell was so angry he was practically hopping on the spot. "Jasper Sterling, don’t you slander people! The pastries are not poisoned!"

Damn it, he was going to die of anger!