A Bumpy Road to Power

Chapter 804 - 804

Cooking? Don't even think about it; it all depends on the mood.

Most of the time, Quentin Bates doesn't get much of a friendly expression, as she is in a state of loving indifference.

You have to know that when Ruth Yarbrough was young, her suitors were also numerous.

But the young and beautiful Ruth ultimately chose the unremarkable Quentin Bates solely because he was a civil servant, seeming to have a brighter future.

But who would have thought.

Quentin Bates was the same as when they got married, even after marriage.

Stuck in the same place for so many years.

Not a sliver of hope in sight.

Eventually, she had to rely on sleeping around just to get a secretary position at the Political and Legal Affairs Committee, so the subtle shift in mentality is quite normal.

In this kind of situation.

Quentin Bates is also accustomed to it.

However, today he was somewhat different.

As he pushed open the door, Ruth smelled the scent of alcohol.

"Did you drink?"

Lying motionless on the sofa, she asked with some displeasure.

"Just a bit."

Quentin replied.

Ruth flared up.

Suddenly climbed up and pointed her finger at Quentin shouting, "Bates, haven't I told you to come home after work and not to mess around outside? Are you out of your mind?"

"Watch your mouth, all this 'I am your mother' nonsense. Who are you the mother of?"

The ever-compliant Quentin retorted this time.

Ruth was taken aback.

A bit incredulous.

She got down from the sofa.

Grabbed his ear directly, scolding, "Oh wow, you've grown some guts, even learned to talk back. How long has it been since I've made you kneel on the washboard, huh?"

She thought Quentin would still be obedient.

Unexpectedly, he swung his arm and slapped hard.

Ruth was unprepared, spun two circles on the spot, and fell into the sofa.

Just about to start cursing.

Her long hair was grabbed by Quentin's hand.

With a ferocious face drawn close.

He raged, "You bitch, I've already given you enough respect, right? What? Sleeping around with men every day, and developed a sense of superiority from it?"

"Quentin Bates, let go! If you keep treating me like this, I'll tell Secretary Lawson tomorrow, just wait for your doom."

Ruth shouted arrogantly.

Upon hearing that.

Quentin raged, "Secretary Lawson, oh, you call him so affectionately. When I want to touch you, you refuse, but when Secretary Lawson wants to touch you, you eagerly open your legs, you slut... I'm going to touch you today..."

As soon as he said that.

Quentin exerted force with his hand.

Ruth cried out in pain.

Her nightgown was pushed directly to her waist by another hand.

Her plump bottom was exposed.

The sexy underwear couldn't even be taken off in time.

Just pulled to the side.

Following closely.

Quentin took off his pants.

Raised his gun, aimed at the target, and with a thrust, there was a popping sound as he forcibly entered.

Perhaps due to the psychological resistance with no arousal.

Ruth was very dry down there.

Such forceful insertion created a slight tearing sensation, making her frown.

But Quentin didn't care about lubrication; he started the piston movement directly.

Gradually.

The adjustment began to take effect.

The body's natural lubricant started to secrete automatically.

The movement also became increasingly smooth.

Quentin flipped Ruth over.

Spread her legs widely.

Spread them until Ruth called out in pain.

After another round of prolonged impact.

Just felt a numbness around the waist.

The essence inside was completely released.

A wave of fatigue crazily surged up.

He shook a bit.

Thumped down onto the sofa, started snoring deeply.

Ruth cursed with filthy words, kicked Quentin twice with her foot, seemingly still dissatisfied, muttering, "Just wait, Quentin Bates, I'll make sure you suffer tomorrow..."

Having said that, she stormed into the bathroom.

The pig-like Quentin suddenly opened his eyes, looked towards the bathroom, the corner of his mouth upturned, sneered...

The next morning at around nine-thirty.

Quentin was working in the outside office.

Suddenly.

An elaborately dressed Ruth appeared in front of him.

"What are you doing here?"

Quentin asked.

Ruth sneered, "I'm not here for you, I'm here for Secretary Lawson, he's inside, right?"

"Ruth, don't make a fuss, I drank too much last night."

Quentin held her arm, speaking softly.

Ruth looked disdainfully.

She said, "Regretting now? It's too late, just prepare to meet your fate."

Having said this.

She swayed her hips and entered Graeme Lewis's office.

It didn't take more than ten minutes.

Sounds of applause for love faintly came from inside, mixed with the moans of Ruth deliberately shouted out.

It seemed like they were intentionally calling out for him to hear.

At two-thirty in the afternoon.

Dirk Carter returned to the office.

Arlo Yarbrough hurriedly rushed in, mysteriously handed a USB drive to Dirk.

Holding back laughter he said, "Sent by Quentin Bates."

"Done? So soon?"

Dirk was somewhat surprised by such efficiency.

Arlo chuckled with his hand over his mouth, "I took a glance, it's quite explosive. Didn't expect Graeme Lewis, at his age, to be quite the player..."

Dirk Carter squeezed the USB drive and smiled slightly.

He said, "Arrange a meeting with Graeme Lewis and tell him I want to treat him to dinner tonight..."

"Sure thing, I'll arrange it right now."

Arlo spoke excitedly.

Soon enough.

It was already half past six in the evening.

At Ty Restaurant where Jabez Shaw's group often went.

When Graeme Lewis pushed open the door and entered the private room, Dirk Carter had already finished a cup of tea.

He glanced at his watch noticing Lewis was a full ten minutes late.

Being Jabez Shaw's direct subordinate, and with Shaw's increasing wariness toward Dirk recently, Lewis naturally knew he had to keep his distance.

If Dirk hadn't hinted about discussing Ruth, Lewis probably wouldn't have come tonight.

Upon entering.

Graeme Lewis's expression was serious.

After all, he had just had a "small gathering" with Ruth that afternoon.

Dirk suddenly bringing up her name made him understandably anxious.

"Secretary Lawson truly is a busy man, can't even manage to be on time for a meal, bad for the stomach that's for sure."

Dirk spoke with a smile.

Implying something.

Outwardly showing concern.

But actually chastising him for being late.

Graeme, a veteran in politics, naturally understood.

He smiled and said, "Thank you, Secretary General Carter, for the concern. Most times, I do eat on time, sometimes I'll check if the food suits my appetite."

Hinting that while he might not be late eating with others, when dining with Dirk, showing up a bit later doesn't matter.

Also indirectly telling Dirk.

The County Committee's position doesn't carry much weight with him, Graeme Lewis.