Chapter 8

Early the next morning, Ian received a call from his assistant saying that Liam's company's stock price had plummeted; someone had anonymously released some evidence of the cooked books. Evelyn looked at the financial news photo of Liam, looking frantic and overwhelmed. She felt no sense of vengeful pleasure, only a vast, desolate emptiness. "Was it you?" she asked softly. Ian was frying eggs. He turned back and smiled. "Just adding fuel to the fire. What truly terrifies him is the unknown threat." He slid the fried eggs onto a plate, the edges crispy and golden. "Eat something. We need to see John today." As soon as they stepped out of the apartment building, they saw Maya standing by the fountain, holding the baby from the hundred-day celebration. She wore a loose sweatshirt, her face haggard, with heavy dark circles under her eyes. "Evelyn, please let us go," Maya blocked her path, her voice hoarse. "If the company collapses, we won't even have a place to live." "This isn't