Given the circumstances, she had no choice but to take the initiative.


    This was a silent game of strategy, with neither side willing to make the first move.


    Poppy made her way toward the door, deliberately slowing her pace, hoping for a word from Soren. But he remained silent, not even ncing her way. She paused at the threshold and, with forced effort, lugged her suitcase onto the front step, sneaking a nce over her shoulder at him.


    "Wait."


    His voice, low andmanding, finally broke the silence behind her.


    A barely-there smile flickered on Poppy''s lips.


    She turned to see Soren striding over, taking the suitcase from her without a word. Just as she was about to speak, he carried it outside and set it firmly beyond the door.


    Her smile froze.


    "I''ll have Gregory drive you," Soren said, his tone cool and final. "The new building has tight security. You''ll be safe there."


    The hope that had just sparked in Poppy''s chest was doused as if with a bucket of ice water.


    She hesitated, then forced a smile. "Alright."


    It didn''t matter.


    The game wasn''t over yet.


    Evangeline and Soren were already divorced.


    Even if she couldn''t stay in the house, there would be other chances for her and Soren. After all, she still worked at Fawkes Enterprises—and she had Flora on her side.


    Compared to Evangeline, her odds were much better.


    The bar was alive with noise and energy, the air thick withughter and pulsing music. In a rtively quiet booth tucked away in the corner, Evangeline and Finn sat across from each other. Between them was a neat row of shot sses, each filled with potent liquor, with several more bottles chilling in an ice bucket nearby. "Truth or drink," Finn announced. "If you''re scared, you can still back out."


    Evangeline nced at the sses in front of her-nothing but the strongest spirits, some shots even mixed with several types of hard liquor.


    She smiled. "If you''re not afraid, why should I be?"


    She raised an eyebrow. "Do you know what people used to call me before I got married?"


    Finn''s eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What did they call you?"


    "The Iron Lady," she said, lifting her chin with a hint of pride. "At Whitmore family dinners, I could drink every man at the table under the table—all by myself."


    There was no room for weakness at the bar. Even if she couldn''t drink as much as she imed, she''d never let it show.


    Finn let out a low whistle, rubbing his brow in mock despair. "That''s bad news for me. Three drinks and I''m done for."


    Evangeline shot him a look. She didn''t buy it for a second, but she didn''t bother calling him out.


    He shrugged, feigning regret. "Guess I''ll have to stick to the truth, then." Evangeline arched an eyebrow. Truth be told, Finn was too good at ying a part -good enough that with that face of his, he could easily pass for a movie star. Sometimes, even if he lied, she couldn''t tell the difference.


    But tonight, the rules were set: a game of "Truth or Drink," trading questions, and every answer had to be honest. If someone refused to answer, they had to take a shot.


    Finn had suggested the game, so tonight, she''d trust that he''d y it straight.


    "Let''s roll to see who asks first," Finn suggested, reaching for the dice.


    Before he could grab them, Evangeline picked up a shot, downed it in one smooth motion as if it were water, and set the empty ss down. "I''ll go first."


    She fixed her gaze on him. "You and Victor-what''s really going on between you?"


    Finn''s fingers stilled for a moment.