Alessia scrolled further down the page. Someone had alreadypiled a spreadsheet listing every one of the Quincy family’s forged works over the years. But as for the third trending topic, she couldn’t muster up any


    interest.


    The Quincy family’s influence simply wasn’t strong enough <i>to </i>stir up much online debate. Most of thementary revolved around parenting and children’s sports days, not the family itself.


    Getting this topic trending wasn’t really about starting a public discussion–it was meant for people in the know. No one who’d made it this far in the art world was foolish; once they realized the Quincys had duped them, any business rtionship would be over for good.


    As for the Quincys‘ paintings and auctioned pieces–whether anyone would still buy them was questionable. At any reputable art exhibition or design firm, the family’s name was now untouchable.


    They’d grabbed the Quincys by the throat. Even if the family could still wriggle, their fate was sealed: all they could do now was watch themselves slide toward ruin.


    By the <i>end </i>of that night, the Quincys were truly infamous–just not in the way they’d ever wanted.


    Some people, Alessia thought, definitely wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.


    She set her phone down on the desk and stepped out to deal with her two little ones.


    Her prediction was spot–on. At the Quincy home, every light zed.


    Hamilton paced the living room, leaning heavily on his cane. The family gathered around him, tense and silent, barely daring to breathe for fear they’d be his next target.


    The adults could keep themselves in check, but the children were another


    07:59


    matter–especially Tammie, who’d never been taught restraint.


    Tammie squirmed restlessly in his mother’s grasp, unable <i>to </i>keep still for even a moment. Hamilton’s face was thunderous, but the boy seemed


    unfazed.


    Tammie’s mother mped a hand over his mouth, but he was a noisy, spoiled child and wouldn’t be silenced. He whined that he wanted <i>to </i>go to bed,ined that his legs hurt from standing <i>so </i>long, and


    at demanded that Hamilton pick him up.


    His mother’s face flushed with embarrassment, but all she could <i>do </i>was clutch his hand tightly.


    The crying and fussing grated on Hamilton’s already frayed nerves.


    “Enough!” he snapped. “All this crying and whining–this mess the Quincys are in is your fault!” He shot Tammie a re, all trace of affection gone, reced by cold disgust.


    Tammie was stunned. His grandfather had always treated him like a treasure; he’d never seen Hamilton look at him like this.


    He shrank back, wide–eyed and confused, unable to understand what he’d done wrong. The next second, his lip trembled, and he broke free from his mother, copsing onto the floor and wailing in earnest.


    Kicking his legs and howling at the top of his lungs, he made everyone’s ears ring–and sent a fresh spike of pain throbbing through Hamilton’s temples.


    “I want to go to bed! I don’t want to stand here! Grandpa’s mean! Bad grandpa! I hate you!”


    “Tammie, honey, you’ll get to sleep soon. Just be quiet for a minute, okay?” his mother pleaded, trying to hush him, but Tammie shoved her away. Off bnce, she fell,nding awkwardly on the floor.


    No one else moved. They all tried to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible, some even watching the scene unfold with a hint of schadenfreude.


    <b>2/3 </b>


    07.50


    After all, Tammie had always been Hamilton’s favorite–spoiled and overindulged, he’d been allowed to boss the rest of them around since he could talk. Now that he’d caused a disaster of this scale, no one was about to stick their neck out for him. In fact, more than a few were


    enjoying the spectacle.


    “Sleep? The Quincys are ruined because of you, and you still want to sleep? You thought you were so clever–if your stupidity hadn’t been exposed for all to see, would we be in this mess?” Hamilton’s fury poured out onto Tammie, conveniently forgetting that he himself had nted the seeds for all of this.


    Tammie couldn’t understand. The grandfather who’d always adored him–why was he suddenly like this? In the past, a single tear would have brought Hamilton running tofort him.


    The thought made Tammie cry even harder.