That Woman, Emma.

Justin

"Will you please stop drinking, Vic? I'm not taking your drunk ass back to your house," Jasper scolded Victor, gently prying the glass of whiskey from his grasp.

I let out a weary sigh, exchanging a concerned glance with Jasper. We were both deeply troubled by Victor's state. He had temporarily taken refuge in my penthouse until the storm surrounding Hughes and Silvester's law firm blew over or until their name was cleared from the scandal.

"Here, drink this," I murmured, offering Victor a glass of water in place of the alcohol. I watched as he absentmindedly traced his finger along the rim of the glass, his expression weighed down by despair.

"Everything is ruined," Victor muttered, his voice heavy with defeat.

Victor had acted swiftly in the aftermath of the news breaking. He had heeded the calls to distance himself from James Silvester, promptly announcing his resignation from the senior partnership and committing to removing his name from association with the firm. Additionally, he had wasted no time in initiating an external forensic investigation to delve into the matter and thoroughly scrutinize the operations of the firm. It seemed he had taken all the necessary steps available to him in such a tumultuous situation.

As expected, the firm's name was being dragged through the mud, a consequence Victor had likely anticipated. Meanwhile, James Silvester's whereabouts remained unknown – whether he was missing or simply laying low, only time would tell.

"Nothing is ruined yet, Vic," I reassured him, hoping to offer a glimmer of optimism amidst the chaos. "Sure, things are rocky at the moment, but this will pass, okay? They will find James and—"

Before I could finish my thought, Victor cut me off, his expression grim and resolute.

Victor's eerie laughter sent a chill down my spine. "They are never going to find him," he slurred, his words laced with bitterness as he averted his gaze in anger.

Jasper's brow furrowed in disbelief. "What do you mean they're not going to find him?" he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration. "The borders are sealed tight. He can't escape. The FBI has been hot on his trail; they'll track him down for sure. And don't forget, they've been monitoring his every move. They've reached out to your past colleagues and followed every lead. I'm telling you, by tomorrow morning, that son of a bitch will be behind bars!" Jasper seethed, his hand balling into a fist on the countertop.

I nodded slowly, my concern deepening as I glanced at my brother, who remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. With a heavy sigh, he lifted the glass of water I'd offered, taking a sip before speaking in a somber tone. "I'm telling you, they'll never find him – not alive, at least," Victor murmured, his hand reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Jasper's eyes widened in alarm at Victor's ominous words. "What do you mean? Are you suggesting that someone will get to him before the police do?" he pressed, his voice tinged with apprehension.

Victor shrugged, his expression weighed down by the gravity of the situation. "I don't know for sure. But considering the high-profile names that have already been implicated, including a sitting governor, who's to say how many other powerful figures are tied to this racket and have yet to be exposed," he explained solemnly. "James knows he's in deep waters. If the FBI catches up to him, they'll squeeze him until he spills everything. No matter how tough he thinks he is, he won't be able to keep it all to himself forever. Eventually, he'll have to cut a deal, and given the extent of his crimes that have already come to light, he'll likely want to avoid facing the consequences," Victor paused, his gaze locking with Jasper's.

"If he's backed into a corner, he may choose to take matters into his own hands rather than wait for someone else to come after him. And if he goes down, he'll take all the information with him," Victor concluded, his words delivered with a calm demeanor that barely concealed the storm brewing in his eyes.