Chapter 480

Evelyn Laurent was reviewing documents sent by Harrison when her phone rang abruptly.

"We found Ethan Sullivan!"

Theodore Langley's voice came through the receiver, hoarse from sleep deprivation.

The surveillance footage showed Ethan's last known location—the east suburbs. He had entered a black sedan, and the license plate was quickly identified.

"The car is registered to Xander Quincy."

Evelyn tapped her fingers lightly on the desk, her gaze turning icy.

Xander's return to the country was too coincidental.

Ethan's disappearance was even more suspicious.

She hung up, knocking over her coffee cup as she stood. The dark liquid spread across the files like dried blood.

"Evelyn?"

Victoria Langley's voice drifted up from downstairs.

Evelyn grabbed her coat and rushed down the steps. She snatched a custard bun from the breakfast tray, taking a large bite.

"I'm going to the Quincy estate."

Richard Langley set down his newspaper, his eyes sharp. "Do you need backup?"

"No." She was already at the door. "I'll handle this alone."

The door slammed shut behind her.

Victoria watched the swaying curtain, murmuring, "That girl..."

"Let her go." Richard picked up his teacup. "The Quincys have crossed the line this time."

For three years, the Quincy family had been in decline.

First, Bianca Fairchild's scandalous revelations before leaving the country sent their stock prices plummeting. Then Beatrice Quincy was forced to retire from acting. The combined pressure from the Langley and Sullivan families had left them struggling.

"They're desperate now," Victoria said coldly.

Richard stood, straightening his suit sleeves. "I'm heading to the office."

"Time to strike?"

"If they broke the rules first," Richard's eyes were razor-sharp, "then we won't hold back."

Evelyn's car screeched to a halt in front of the Quincy mansion.

She looked up at the once-opulent estate, now exuding an air of decay. The peeling paint on the wrought-iron gates mirrored the family's decline.

"Xander Quincy." She whispered the name, her fingers digging into her palms.

If Ethan had so much as a scratch...

She strode forward and pressed the doorbell.