Storm frowned. “Are we really going to trade with Eshea? Their government’s strapped for cash, and our equipment doesn’t come cheap.”

Rylie’s lips curved faintly. “That’s not the point. This is media warfare. Let them speculate.”

Storm blinked, then let out a low whistle. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.”

Rylie’s expression remained cool. “Still, I’m curious. Who came up with this tactic? Has Ares Global brought in new advisors?”

At the mention, Nightingale quickly jumped in to explain, eyes gleaming with gossip. “As a matter of fact, yes. A few new faces showed up at their subsidiary factory recently. One of them’s from Eshea, an academic type. Word is he might be a military strategist.”

Rylie narrowed her eyes slightly. “Got it.”

When the meeting finally ended, she leaned back in her chair and stretched her neck. Just then, her phone buzzed — Kendrick was calling.

“Are you free tonight?” Kendrick asked. “The Morgan family is hosting a homecoming party. They’ve invited us Serenity Manor folks for dinner.”

Rylie’s brows drew together. “Homecoming party? Who exactly is coming home?”

“Brad’s parents,” Kendrick replied.

“Why would they invite us?” Rylie asked as she grabbed her handbag and walked out.

Kendrick thought for a moment before answering, “Maybe they want to know who spread the rumor about their death. The Morgan family has built a strong foundation over the years. Sean handed both military honors and business affairs to Brad, and Brad has done well. He was the first to bridge politics and business.”

He paused, then added with a faint grin, “Life abroad can’t be easy. Perhaps his parents are back for money. Either way, it’s their family’s matter, not ours. We’re just going for dinner, and I’ll introduce you around.”

Rylie nodded. “Will my brothers be there?”

“Only Marcus,” Kendrick replied. “Felix is tied up in the mountains with a mining project, and Deandre is abroad handling mafia dealings and lab work. They’re both busy in their own way.”

Her brow furrowed. “Mining? What kind of mine needs him to go himself?”

“I don’t fully know,” said Kendrick. “From what I’ve heard, it’s an undeveloped vein. He’s been working on it while also focusing on the chip technology field.”

Rylie’s face grew tense. “An undeveloped vein? Did he bring a proper team?”

“Of course,” Kendrick reassured. “Felix would never risk his life carelessly.”

“Don’t worry, Rylie,” he added gently. “He’s busy, but he treasures his own life.”

She knew Felix was the one under the heaviest strain. They spoke more often by phone than in person, and she could sense the weight he carried.

No one understood the dangers of undeveloped veins better than her. When she had uncovered that uranium deposit, the surrounding toxins had poisoned her again and again. Only her own preparations—medications and antidotes crafted from the toxins themselves—had kept her alive.

The thought made her uneasy. After ending Kendrick’s call, she tried phoning Felix, but the line was dead. He was out of range.

If he was truly in the mountains, only a satellite phone could reach him. Anything less would be useless.

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