THE BENNETTSThe night before March's Blackwind and Monique Moffat’s wedding should have been quiet. Instead, the Bennett house looked like the aftermath of a storm.Drawers were half-open. Papers were everywhere on the floor like fallen leaves. Suitcases sat abandoned in corners, some packed, some overturned as if whoever had started simply gave up halfway through.Silence pressed against the walls. Not peaceful silence, the suffocating kind. The one that comes after everything is lost.Ryan sat on the couch, unmoving, staring at nothing. His phone lay on the table in front of him, screen dark. It had been ringing all day, investors, reporters, unknown numbers, but now even the calls had stopped. News travelled fast. Faster than damage control. Faster than lies.The company was gone.Shut down.Seized.Frozen.The investigators had arrived that afternoon, calm, polite, devastatingly efficient. They carried folders, warrants, and the kind of quiet authority that didn’t need raised voi
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