Henry watched him quietly. Mr. Liang watched him quietly. Even Margaret watched him quietly. Charles suddenly realized nobody was helping him anymore: nobody was interrupting; nobody was agreeing; he was standing alone. And that only made him more determined.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
"What are you doing?" Raymond asked.
Charles didn't answer immediately. He tapped the screen several times, then looked directly at Maya. "You've impressed everyone." His smile returned: thin, controlled, dangerous. "You speak Mandarin." He nodded. "You found an issue in a contract." Another nod. "Fine." The room listened carefully. "But one thing still bothers me."
Maya met his gaze. "What?"
Charles slipped the phone onto the table. "A real professional doesn't just speak a language." The smile widened. "A real professional can prove it."
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Daniel Mercer felt his stomach tighten. Henry's expression remained unreadable. Mr. Liang leaned back slightly.
Charles pressed a button; the screen lit up; a video call began connecting. Several people exchanged confused glances.
Then a woman appeared on the screen: mid-50s, professional, bookshelves behind her, sharp eyes, confident posture.
Charles folded his arms. "Dr. Rebecca Hart."
The name immediately caught Mr. Liang's attention. One of the investors murmured softly; even Raymond looked surprised. Dr. Hart was a respected language consultant who worked with international legal firms and medical institutions. She wasn't famous, but inside translation circles, her reputation was enormous.
The woman adjusted her glasses. "Charles, thank you for joining us." She smiled politely, then noticed the crowd. "The situation sounds unusual."
"Very." Charles glanced at Maya. "I need an independent evaluation."
The room understood immediately; a ripple of whispers spread through nearby tables.
Maya remained calm, but inside, her pulse quickened. This was different: not because she doubted herself, but because suddenly everything had become public—every sacrifice, every late night, every lesson from Mrs. Chen, every dream she'd put on hold. Everything was standing in front of a jury.
Dr. Hart listened as Charles briefly explained the evening: the bet, the language, the contract, the investors, the room. When he finished, she raised an eyebrow, then looked directly at Maya through the screen.
"Ms. Brooks?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"You understand what he's asking?"