Three days passed in a strange limbo of professional tension. Liam, now operating with restricted access, kept his distance from Isabella in public—a calculated performance for whoever might be watching. Their communications had virtually ceased, leaving Liam isolated and increasingly suspicious.
Late Friday evening found Liam hunched over his personal laptop in his apartment, scrolling through financial data he'd quietly extracted before his access was limited. The pieces were there, but the pattern remained elusive.
'They've hidden it well,' he thought, rubbing his tired eyes.
His phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:
*Ashworth Building. Server room. Midnight. Come alone if you want proof.*
Liam stared at the message, suspicion warring with curiosity. It could easily be a trap, yet if there was evidence clearing his name...
He typed a response: *Who is this?*
The reply came instantly: *Someone who knows the truth about Seraphina and Jeremy.*
