Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young)
Chapter 462 What Did He Uncover?

"I..." Alice was at a loss for words, scrambling for a comeback.

I took a deep breath and said, "Ms. Cruz, let's call it even. We're not enemies, and I've never tried to stand in your way. So, let's just go our separate ways in peace, okay?" Stepping out of Clearwater Residence, the sun was blazing down even harder.

After a sleepless night, my head was pounding. I caught a cab back to Maxwell's place and bumped into him just as he was heading out.

He caught sight of my dark-circled eyes and could not help but smirk, frowning, "What, did you turn into a night owl? You look wrecked."

I let out a huge yawn, saying flatly, "I didn't catch a wink of sleep. I'm off to crash."

"Hey... You!" He tried to grab me some again, but I shut my bedroom door on him, cutting off any further commentary.

The moment my head hit the pillow, I was out cold.

I slept like the dead. When I finally woke up, night had fallen.

I flicked on the light and stepped out of the bedroom. Maxwell was gone, but he had left a feast on the table-snacks, main dishes, the works. It had Maxwell written all over it.

He had left me a text saying he was tied up with some event and that I should grab a bite on my own.

I switched off my phone, whipped up a quick snack, and then drifted out to the balcony, lost in thought. Maxwell's place towered over the city, and from this height, I could see almost the entire Lake City skyline Everywhere I looked, there were towering buildings, their lights twinkling like stars just starting to fade.

Every city's night had its own vibe, but somehow, they all shared that same glow, that same buzz of life. Spending too much time in those concrete jungles messed with my head and made me feel like my soul was getting chipped away bit by bit. I had everything I needed, the city was alive with color and laughter, but still, there was this creeping sense of despair, that tangle of

The night grew deeper, and after standing so long my legs started to tingle with pins and needles. Bored out of my mind, I noticed the study door was ajar and figured I might as well check out a book. Maxwell's study was packed with economics stuff, but after some digging, I spotted 'The Legend of Jumaroshan' tucked away in a corner. A high monk's biography? Since when was that Maxwell's kind of read?

Curiosity got the better of me, and I pulled the book out, heading over to the desk to look at it.

However, before I could even open it, my eyes landed on a stack of old newspapers and some papers scattered across the desk.

Newspapers from a decade ago? What was he doing with those?

The headline about the Snakehead Mountain disaster that buried hundreds hit me like a ton of bricks, and my mind raced to places it probably should not go.

I could not help but thumb through the papers, all stuff about the development of Snakehead Mountain back in the day.

I had totally spaced on it, but after we got back from Lorrell, Maxwell had sniffed out that something was off about that whole mess. I figured he would have his doubts for a bit, but I never guessed he would actually start digging into it.

I was not sure how much he had dug up, but my heart was racing as I got ready to check out the papers on the desk. Then I heard the front door click open. I froze, knowing Maxwell was back. I hesitated for just a second before I made sure everything looked untouched.

Book in hand, 'The Legend of Jumaroshan', I stepped out of the study and bumped into Maxwell, who had just slipped off his shoes. He gave me a quick smile, but I caught a flicker of something else— stiffness, maybe? I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been on high alert from those documents. "Thought you were still catching z's. What's up? Hunting for a good read?" He dropped a bag on the floor and grinned, "Brought you some goodies. Come grab a bite."

I nodded and, book forgotten, made a beeline for the bag. Inside, there were spicy crayfish and some fancy cakes that made my mouth water. I plopped down by the coffee table, ready to dive in. Maxwell threw a glance at the study, then lounged on the couch, flipping through the book I had left behind. "Is this from my study? I have this book?"

I was already peeling a crayfish, nodding with my mouth full, "Yeah, if it's not yours, whose would it be?"

He smirked, "Must've grabbed it on a whim from the bookstore." He watched me attack the crayfish and asked, "How's it taste?"

I gave a satisfied hum, looking at him sideways, "Why'd you think to bring me crayfish? They're delicious, but you don't strike me as the crayfish type."

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