as a mastercla

tacts. Mark stood near the entrance, his face a mask of sorrow, accepting condolences from peopl

ever he put on a show of being overwhelmed by grief. Liam watched their performance from a corner, a silent obs

He ignored it and placed a small, simple offering on the table below: a single, perfect white gardenia, his fa

or more drama, he strode toward Liam, h

e to hear. He was holding a thick stack of papers. "You come

Liam. They scattered across the floor, fille

ow Liam's father has been exploiting Emily's connections for years! B

rage shot through Liam. For a moment, the cold calm he' d cultivated vanished.

ock sliced across Mark's che

lly, a hand flying to his face as if he'd been

ed, launching herself at him, her nails scratching at his face. "My father is dead bec

the wrists. "Your father is dead because of

shifting toward the "victims," Emily and Mark. M

on... it just proves how much he has to hide. He knows we're onto him. I bet if we searche

at we should do! We need to go there now and purge all t

had been lingering in the background. "Let's go!

wept up in the drama, seemed to think it was a perfectly reasonable idea. A mob mentality was taking hold, orchestrated by