Chapter 24
“Call a meeting now. Prepare a response plan and find out where their funding is coming from,” Annabel ordered coldly.
“No need,” Kenneth suddenly interrupted her. “Liam probably never really switched sides. He was only pretending.”
Annabel sharply turned to him. “What do you mean?”
Kenneth nodded, his gaze complicated. “You thought he worked for Morse Group. But the truth is, he was only working for his own benefit.” Annabel’s mind raced. If that were the case, then this was far simpler than she had imagined.
She grabbed her coat. “Get the car. I’m going to Morse Group.”
Kenneth frowned. “What for?”
She didn’t look back. “To look for Tristan.”
When Annabel pushed the door open, Tristan was standing by the floor–to–ceiling window. His figure looked thin, almost like a shadow.
He turned slowly at the sound. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a dull emptiness.
“Well, this is rare.” His voice was hoarse. “Ms. Smith, are you here to inspect my work personally?”
Annabel walked straight up to him and shoved the tablet into his hands. “Explain this.”
Tristan glanced at the screen and frowned slightly. “I didn’t know about this.”
“Liam was your man!”
“Yes, he was. Just like I was yours, once.” Tristan looked up, his dark eyes staring straight at her.
Annabel’s breath hitched.
They stared at each other for a moment. She suddenly took a deep breath and said, “I want you to fix this with me.”
Tristan was momentarily stunned.
The rain outside grew heavier, water trailing down the glass like tears.
“Why?” he asked softly.
Annabel was silent for a moment before she gave an answer that even surprised herself.
“Because you’re the only one who understands how the Morse Group’s former executives work.”
W
That wasn’t the whole truth. Half of the former executives were under her command now. However, she wasn’t about to admit that something inside her cracked when she saw his medical report.
Tristan stared at her for a long time. He suddenly let out a tired but resigned chuckle. “Alright.”
He turned and pulled out a file from the drawer, handing it to her.
“This is the relationship map and leverage I’ve compiled on them. It should be enough for you to hit back.”
Annabel flipped through the file. Her pupils contracted.
The information was incredibly detailed, and it was clearly not something prepared recently.
“You saw this coming?”
He simply walked to the coat rack and reached for his suit jacket. “Let’s go, while I still remember how to act like Mr. Morse.”
His posture straightened. For a fleeting moment, a faint trace of his former sharpness returned.
This might be the last thing he could do for her.
In the Morse Group’s conference room, Annabel slid the last file to the far end of the table.
“Everyone’s severance pay has been deposited.” Annabel’s voice was calm as she scanned the senior executives, whose expressions varied.
“From today, you are no longer affiliated with Morse Group.”
The finance director spoke in a trembled voice. “Ms. Norton, we’ve served the Morse family for 30 years…”
“And that’s why you’re walking away with double compensation,” Annabel said, tapping the table with her fingers. “Or else, you might spend your days in a cell like Cassie, counting stitches on her face.”
The room fell deathly silent.
In the comer, Tristan sat with his head bowed. The dampness of last night’s rain still clung to his wrinkled suit. He hadn’t said a word, like an empty shell drained of its soul.
After everyone else had left, he remained seated.
“Is there anything else?” Annabel closed the folder.
He suddenly reached out and pressed down on It, his knuckles pale. “Is there really no chance left for us?”
Annabel’s gaze dropped to his hand. There was a fresh cut on it, probably from when he shattered the mirror the night before.
Memories from years ago came flooding her mind.
Once, the young Tristan climbed the wall to bring her strawberries. Barbed wire cut his palm, yet he smiled and said, “It doesn’t hurt.”
“That day, do you know what I was thinking about in that sack?” She said softly, “I was thinking that if you just turned around and looked at me, even for a glance…
Tristan’s pupils shrank sharply.
“But you didn’t.” Annabel pulled the file back. “So the answer is no. There is not even a sliver of chance left.”
Kenneth’s words echoed in her mind.
He was right. The best ending to revenge was forgetting.
She turned toward the floor–to–ceiling window. Sunlight broke through the clouds, bathing her silhouette in a faint golden glow.
