The Shepherd family fell even faster than Andres expected.
Anyone in politics had enemies.
The Shepherds were no exception.
The moment Hans delivered the evidence to the proper channels, every rival the Shepherds had ever made descended like wolves.
Before long, someone published the full story online—James manufacturing a virus, profiting off panic, destroying lives.
Families who had lost loved ones in that outbreak went insane with rage when the official report dropped.
They'd believed it was a natural disaster.
Turns out it had been a man-made slaughter.
As public fury surged, the Shepherd family was shoved straight into the spotlight.
And James—the one who started it all—became a hated name overnight, like a rat everyone wanted to stomp.
An official bulletin announced that James had been stripped of all positions and would be handed over to federal authorities for trial.
But James ran.
Police launched a wide manhunt.
Then, in a crumbling house on the outskirts of town, they found his body.
"James is dead?"
Maeve had barely woken up when she heard the bombshell.
Andres didn't hide anything from her.
"He didn't die alone," he said. "Want to guess who went down with him?"
Maeve's eyes shifted slightly, and the answer came instantly. "Molly."
Andres was starting to feel like Maeve could see through walls.
"Yeah," he said. "Molly."
With nowhere left to go, Molly had crawled to James for shelter.
But James cared about only one thing—power.
Back when he'd pursued her, it had been for her talent and her looks.

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