Chapter 299

The atmosphere in the firm was tense, much like the furrow that etched itself between my brows as I struggled to concentrate on the legal documents spread across my desk. The weight of Andy's impulsivity hung in the air like a storm threatening to break. I couldn't shake the feeling that his recklessness held the key to unlocking the truth behind Timothy's predicament.

My colleagues buzzed with hushed conversations, discussing the latest gossip like hungry vultures circling a fresh carcass. I couldn't blame them; scandals had a way of captivating even the most stoic individuals. But my focus was resolute on untangling the web of connections surrounding Timothy and Stella's families.

My pen tapped rhythmically against my notebook, each tap echoing my growing frustration. The memory of that ill-fated dinner at Kamran's home replayed in my mind. Andy, usually the epitome of smugness, had unraveled before our eyes, he was wild and unpredictable.

"Damn it, Andy," I muttered under my breath. Quinton’s confession about Andy’s alcohol addiction only fueled my initial beliefs, leaving me questioning everything I thought I knew about him.

My mind drifted to my own father's battle with alcoholism. A pang of empathy surged within me as I recognized the signs of someone losing control over their demons.

My father, a mere shadow of himself on most days, had fought to maintain a semblance of normalcy. The haunting memories of his struggles now intertwined with Andy's erratic behavior.

Was his behavior a result of Stella's tragic death, or was it a sign of a deeper struggle that predated the loss? Could his drunkenness have caused the loss?

The uncertainty gnawed at me, fueling my frustration.

With a sigh, I set aside my work, reaching for a clean sheet of paper. The click of my pen against the desk echoed in the quiet office as I began drafting a chart, mapping out the possible links between the two families. The complexity of their relationships unraveled before me, a labyrinth of alliances and secrets that begged to be deciphered.

As my thoughts delved into the intricacies of the case, the distant murmur of angry dialogue seeped through the walls of my office. Colleagues vented their frustrations and speculated on the scandalous details that had yet to be unveiled. I couldn't afford to let the noise distract me; there was a puzzle waiting to be solved, and I intended to be the one to piece it together.

My focus narrowed on Timothy's lawyer, a man whose name had slipped my mind until now. Determination fueled my actions as I retrieved the relevant information and dialed the number. The phone rang, each tone echoing my impatience. Finally, a voice crackled through the line.

"Mr. Wilkes speaking," came the curt reply.

"Mr. Wilkes, this is Evie Sinclair," I began, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. "I know you’ve been assigned to Timothy's case. I was hoping we could discuss some details, from one attorney to another."

A heavy pause lingered before Mr. Wilkes responded, his voice guarded. "Ms. Sinclair, I assure you that certain details are not meant for the ears of anyone outside the legal circle. Your curiosity may be admirable, but it's best you stay within the bounds of your responsibilities."

I bit back frustration, pressing on. "I understand the need for confidentiality, but I'm trying to help clear Timothy's name. Can you at least tell me what your goal is in handling this case?"

Mr. Wilkes let out a sigh that conveyed both weariness and reluctance. "My only goal is to fulfill the wishes of Timothy's father – to clear Timothy's name without tarnishing the reputation of Mr. Fitzgerald."

The mention of Mr. Fitzgerald, Kamran’s biggest business partner, sent a shiver down my spine. It seemed the scandal had far-reaching consequences beyond Timothy and Stella's families. I probed further, "Why is protecting Mr. Fitzgerald so crucial? What's the connection between him and Timothy's case?"

Mr. Wilkes hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "As you likely already know, Mr. Fitzgerald was a colleague and friend of Timothy's father. The scandal threatens not only Timothy's future but also the legacy of a man who once stood beside Kamran. We aim to bring justice without causing unnecessary harm."

Anger bubbled within me, frustration at the secrecy that veiled the truth. "Justice doesn't thrive in shadows, Mr. Wilkes. If we're to clear Timothy's name, we need to expose the facts, not tiptoe around them. What are you hiding, and how am I supposed to help if I don't know the whole story?"

The line fell into silence, a tense standoff between my determination and Mr. Wilkes' guarded stance. Eventually, his voice returned, and he responded curtly:

“Don’t.”

I wanted to scream at him, tell him that he was fighting for the wrong thing, but I’d be shooting the messenger. Kamran wanted this outcome for some reason. He preferred peace over Timothy’s innocence.

“Thank you, Mr. Wilkes, for your time,” I said slowly, moving the phone away from my ear before he could respond.

“My pleasure, Ms. Sinclair.”

I refrained from slamming the phone down onto the receiver before running my hands through my hair with a frustrated huff.

The call had only left a bitter taste in my mouth, a cocktail of frustration and disbelief. How could a father, in the midst of his son's turmoil, focus solely on the monetary aspects? It was as if Timothy's well-being had become an inconvenient detail, overshadowed by the looming financial storm.

I paced around my office, grappling with the urge to hurl my phone against the wall. Instead, I took a deep breath, allowing the frustration to settle like sediment at the bottom of a river. Kamran's priorities were not mine to control, but I couldn't shake the bitterness that lingered like an unwelcome guest.

Resolving to find another angle, I decided to bridge the gap between Timothy's family and myself. It was time to get closer, to understand the dynamics that fueled the chaos surrounding Timothy's life. Even if Andy disapproved, my commitment to justice outweighed personal discomfort.

With a determined stride, I returned to my work, the legal documents demanding my attention. The clock ticked away the minutes, each second propelling me closer to the end of the workday. As I prepared to leave the office, the lingering anger fueled my steps. I was ready to face whatever obstacles lay ahead.

The office corridors were a maze of closed doors and hushed conversations. As I walked, my mind raced with thoughts of how to approach Timothy's family. Kamran was a barrier, but perhaps my mom held the key. If I could gain her trust, maybe she would reveal the intricacies of their family dynamics that seemed so far out of my reaach.

Exiting the office building, I spotted Scarlett and her daughter, Olive, strolling by with shopping bags in tow. My determination surged, and I quickened my pace to catch up with them. "Scarlett! Olive!" I called out, my voice cutting through the air.

Scarlett turned, a surprised expression softening her features. Olive, wide-eyed, looked up from her mother's side. "Evie, hi! Mom, look! It’s Evie!"

I offered a warm smile, attempting to mask my hesitation. As I got closer, however, Scarlett’s disgusted expression became clear. She glanced at Olive and then back at me, her lips twisting.

"Let’s go, sweety.”

Olive protested as they turned away. My own heart did the same as I reached my hand out toward them. I couldn’t let things end like this. I wouldn’t.

Without a second thought, I started dashing toward them.