LOGINChapter 205They were gathered in the corner suite of the hotel Janet's mother owned. Jackson and Liam had gutted and rebuilt these rooms three years back, and the place still smelled faintly of fresh paint when the heat kicked on.Morgana settled back into her chair. "Name's Henri Belloc. French. Runs an independent news outlet out of Brussels, reaches about three million readers. And here's the thing that matters. Zero ties to American political donors. Haddon's people can't touch him."Jackson turned the word over in his head. "Brussels."Morgana kept going. "Can't buy him, can't scare him either. Back in 2019 he wrote a piece naming a sitting French minister in a money laundering scheme. The minister sued him and lost. Guy's serving twelve years now. Henri doesn't scare easy. And he owes me a big favor."Liam spoke from the kitchenette in the corner. "Seems like everyone owes you a favor."Morgana smirked. "That's right. Twenty years of being useful, you don't get through that wit
204 Liam's POV Janet at three in the morning was something I had witnessed twice before and was always slightly awed by. She didn't get frantic. She got precise. She pulled information from sources with the calm efficiency of someone running a library search rather than a crisis, and she built what she built without explaining it until it was done, which was the most efficient approach and the most nerve-wracking. Morgana sat at the table with her. At some point around two a.m., they started trading information in a way that suggested they had arrived at some form of mutual professional respect, which, given the circumstances, was remarkable. Jackson was on his phone in the corner with a board member named Patricia Ellison, who was apparently awake because she had a toddler with an ear infection and answered his call with "Please tell me this is actually important and not more Jefferson nonsense." I was tracking Carter Wells. I had a contact in the financial intelligence world
203 Jackson's POV I called my lawyer instantly, as Morgana said he could be the one. Anyone could be right on this case, but what was different was the fact that things could never be the same if it was the person that I felt something for. Yes, Liam could be right too. But I believed so much that Avery wouldn't want to cause the family another pain by being an informant for a clown who portrayed himself as a good person; instead, he wanted to take the company away from us. Greedy old fucking arsehole! The phone rang, and I thought he wouldn't pick up. "You could be right on this one," I said, as Morgana felt that she was finally being seen and could be a useful tool for us all. Liam leaned forward. "Yeah, I could put all my money on that too; those white-collar lawyers aren't really being honest with us all." I really wanted to kiss his lips right now, but that would feel odd at this moment, wouldn't it? Theodore Marsh picked up on the third ring, which told me he was awake, wh
202Liam's POVI didn't sleep.That wasn't a metaphor or a dramatic statement.I literally did not sleep.I sat at the kitchen island with my laptop open and three separate document tabs running and a coffee that went cold somewhere around midnight, and I built a timeline.Not because Jackson asked me to. Because it was the only way my brain would stop spinning long enough to be useful.The timeline went like this.2001: James Carly appears inside Maddox Corporation through the Reyes family. Nobody questions it because the Reyes family is old money and their referrals don't get questioned. Carly spends the next eleven years building financial architecture that everyone thinks serves West Ark and actually serves something underneath West Ark that nobody can see.2003: The Delaware LLC. The same entity that Gerald Whitmore flagged. The same entity that Avery found connecting Marcus Jefferson's investment firm to a subsidiary of Maddox Corporation that no longer exists.2012: Carly "disa
Jackson's POVThere is something about a prison that gets into your bones before you even walk through the gates.It is not just the barbed wire, the guard towers, or the way the concrete seems to absorb every bit of warmth from the air around it. It is the weight of the place.The knowledge that every person inside those walls is there because someone decided they had to be separated from the rest of the world. And that decision, right or wrong, changes the shape of the air you breathe.I had been inside exactly once before. Three weeks ago.My lawyer dragged me through a side entrance that smelled like bleach and stale coffee, and we spent eleven minutes signing paperwork that officially confirmed my father had been remanded without bail.I did not look at Richard Maddox (my father) during that visit. Not once.I kept my eyes on the forms and my signature tight and controlled, and when I walked out I told myself I had not seen a thing.That the man on the other side of that glass wa
Third person's POV The prison visiting room smelled like industrial cleaning solution and decades of bad decisions.Liam Sinclair sat across from his father at 7:15 PM. The table between them was bolted to the floor. The guard by the door was watching them with the particular attention reserved for inmates whose charges involved federal conspiracy and attempted murder.Astor Sinclair looked smaller than Liam remembered. Not diminished. His father would never be diminished. But compressed somehow. Like the walls of the cell were already reshaping him into something that fit their dimensions."You came," Astor said. His voice was neutral. Neither pleased nor surprised."I need information," Liam said flatly. "You're the only person who might have it."Astor's mouth curved slightly. Not quite a smile. "Straight to business. I taught you that.""You taught me a lot of things." Liam's tone didn't change. "Most of them wrong."The guard shifted position slightly. Astor ignored him."Wha
Third Person's POVEve Dove stood in the operations center staring at the wall of screens displaying traffic camera footage, satellite imagery, and thermal scans of every building within a ten mile radius of where the white van had last been spotted. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep. Her third cu
Third Person's POVThe flight back to the States took nine hours with a layover in Houston that felt interminable. Avery sat between Jackson and Liam, Caroline sleeping in a carrier strapped to her chest, the baby's tiny face peaceful in a way that made everything they had survived feel worth it. E
Third Person's POVDanny Finn woke at five thirty in the morning, the same as he had every morning for nine years. Prison routine had carved itself into his nervous system with the precision of scar tissue. Even now, on the day of his release, his body responded to rhythms that no longer applied to
Third Person's POVVictor Ruiz sat in a cramped apartment three miles from the chemical plant where he had lost everything. The place belonged to a cousin who asked no questions and accepted cash payment for a temporary sanctuary. One room. A mattress on the floor. A bathroom with a sink that barel







