Dear Ex-wife Marry Me novel (Maja) novel Chapter 1320

In North America, Ian's influence was constrained, and the flow of information had trickled to a slow drip. The circumstances surrounding Fitch's death still gnawed at him, feeling off-kilter in a way he couldn't pin down.

But calling Fitch was out of the question.

Back home, Bernard was still unconscious, and if any connection between Fitch and Ian, now a fugitive, was unearthed, even if Fitch was breathing, he wouldn't be able to escape the inevitable trial that would follow.

Logic dictated that Ian should stay put and wait for news, but if Fitch really was dead, implicated because of him, how could Ian possibly stay calm?

Splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom, Ian tried to wash away his disquiet. When he emerged, Nydia was waiting with news.

"Patric's ready to sing," she declared.

Patric had an innate aversion to Eric, resenting the constant praise of Eric's achievements that shone brightly in their community. The irritation was clear on his face, twisted with a remnant of brutality as he was led out of the room. As he spotted Ian, Patric lunged forward, an angry fist cocked, but the cuffs on his wrists and the shackles on his ankles allowed him only a short advance before being restrained.

His eyes bore into Ian's, and after a moment's pause, Patric scoffed, "You want intel on the research facility? I'll need a moment to ponder. After all, I've only received scraps of knowledge in that area."

"Then bring out Eric. He knows that."

"Do you think I don't want him to speak? He's been courting death over and over, now barely clinging to life. He only reacts when Maja's around," Ian said, his lashes flickering at the mention of her name.

Patric, freshly wounded from interrogation, seized the opportunity to jab at Ian's sore spot, tilting his head back with a hint of defiance.

"Your brother was head over heels for Maja, clinging to a promise they made in the confines of that facility. Ian, you just lucked out, slipping into his life while he was away."

"Luck is a part of strength," Ian retorted, his tone colder than before.

In the past, any mention of Eric and Maja would have triggered a much more visceral reaction from Ian. But now, knowing who his enemies were, he refused to engage in a war of words with Patric.

"Patric, either let Eric come forward or make an effort to assimilate those memories."

Cornered, Patric realized the gravity of his situation. He had influence in North America, and his power was nothing to scoff at, but compared to the underground fighting rings, he was still outmatched. Ian's audacity in this instance suggested that if pushed too far, Patric could well end up with a bullet in him. Nothing seemed beyond Ian's capacity for action.