Chapter 105 When Are You Flying Back?

• Liam leaned back in his chair—the kind that probably cost as much as a small car—and stared blankly out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city skyline blinked back at him like a stubborn riddle he couldn’t solve. The air conditioning hummed quietly, doing its best to pass for ambiance, but all it did was underline the silence.
• Evelyn had just left. Efficient as ever, like a sleek knife in heels. The 9:30 had gone well, technically. Numbers matched expectations. Graphs tilted the right way. No scandals, no panics—just spreadsheets and strategies and more projections than any sane human should have to endure before lunch.
• But Liam’s jaw remained tight, as if it had signed a non-disclosure agreement with the rest of his body to keep the stress inside. He twisted a pen between his fingers, though his eyes barely registered the movement. Something about the quiet—it wasn’t peaceful. It was too spacious, too hollow, like a room that used to be full of laughter and now echoed with ghosts.