Chapter 279

The fact that Margaret was willing to negotiate at fifty billion meant she had the funds.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Dominic Blackwood’s office at Blackwood Group, casting golden streaks across the polished mahogany desk.

Dominic scanned the list of students who had studied under Professor Sebastian Whitmore. According to Wesley Ashford’s revelation the previous night, the professor’s secret protégé wasn’t middle-aged, nor was it a man—which significantly narrowed down his search.

Then, his gaze landed on Evelyn Thorne’s name.

Evelyn had been one of Sebastian’s students, but because she had pursued medicine, Dominic had initially dismissed her file without much thought.

Her academic record appeared straightforward—nothing beyond coursework and published research papers. He pulled up one of her publications online, but the dense medical jargon might as well have been hieroglyphics. He closed the tab.

Perhaps Evelyn wasn’t as unremarkable as he’d assumed. Sebastian wouldn’t have taken her under his wing if she were ordinary. Wesley had admitted that even he hadn’t been deemed worthy enough to be a direct student—only an assistant.

If Evelyn had such talent, why had she abandoned medicine after graduation? Was it truly just for money? And if so, why waste two years studying under one of the most demanding professors in the field?

Dominic’s brow furrowed. He picked up a pen and wrote Evelyn Thorne on a notepad, then branched out to Sebastian Whitmore and Apex Innovations. Finally, he jotted down Mike beside the company name.

Apex Innovations’ sudden profitability had coincided with Mike’s arrival. Mike had once boasted to Nathan Cross about his hacking prowess, and indeed, there was no trace of him anywhere online.

Why would a hacker of his caliber willingly work for Evelyn?

Dominic drew a question mark beside Mike’s name.

Meanwhile, in the cemetery, Evelyn stood before her father’s grave with her mother and children.

"Dad," she murmured, placing a bouquet of lilies on the polished granite. "Mom and I are here. And your grandchildren came to see you too."

Richard Thorne’s photograph smiled back at her from the headstone.

"I’ve rebuilt Thornfield Industries," she continued softly. "And James Worthington is behind bars now. You can rest in peace."

A cool breeze swept through, rustling the leaves. Just then, her phone buzzed in her purse. She pulled it out and saw Margaret’s name flashing on the screen. Without hesitation, she answered.

"Evelyn," Margaret’s voice was hoarse, as if she hadn’t slept all night. "I’ve considered your terms. I can’t pay fifty billion upfront, but I can sign a contract guaranteeing full payment within a year."

She hadn’t wanted to spend a single cent saving her brother, but her parents had threatened to disown her if she refused.

Evelyn’s lips curled into a cold smile. "Oh?" Her tone was glacial. "Then we have nothing to discuss."

Margaret’s breath hitched. "What do you mean?! You said if I paid fifty billion, you’d settle this privately!"

"Did I?" Evelyn’s fingers brushed the edge of her father’s gravestone. "I said I’d consider it. And after careful consideration, I’ve decided James should face the full weight of the law."

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Let him rot."