KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT

An hour later, I arrived at Armand's office, feeling the weight of the revelations that had unraveled over the past few hours. When I knocked and entered, Armand was glued to his screen, engrossed in whatever task was demanding his attention. He barely lifted his head, but when he did, his sharp eyes landed on me. With one look at my face, he huffed in frustration.

"What now, Max? What terrible news have you brought to my desk this time?" he grumbled, already bracing himself for the worst.

I didn't waste time with pleasantries. "It's Maurice," I started, and as I detailed everything John had uncovered—about Maurice being Gregory's son, the hacking, and his betrayal—Armand's expression darkened. Without a word, he stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor, and slammed his fists onto the table with such force that the desk rattled.