---- Chapter 23 23 Liam's relentless, public search was making Maya's new life increasingly difficult. The ten-million-dollar reward had turned her into a reluctant celebrity. Her photo was everywhere. People were looking for her. She had to be more careful, more elusive. She changed her appearance subtly - a new hair color, different glasses. She moved from her small Montana town to an even more remote cabin deeper in the mountains. She needed to cut off his access, to sever the last tendrils of his influence. Liam, meanwhile, was growing more desperate. His investigators finally, through a series of discreet inquiries and a hefty bribe to a contact within the Phoenix Initiative's network, obtained a new, active phone number for "Maya Evans." His hands trembled as he dialed. It rang. Once. Twice. Voicemail. A generic, automated greeting. Not Maya's voice. He left a rambling, incoherent message, begging her to call him. He tried again later. Voicemail. ---- He sent texts. Long, pleading paragraphs filled with remorse, apologies, promises. No reply. He decided to make a public act of contrition. He posted a video online. Not as Liam Goldstein, CEO, but as a broken man. He confessed his infidelity, his lies, his profound regret. He didn't make excuses. He owned his mistakes. He begged Maya, wherever she was, for a chance to apologize in person. The video went viral. Public opinion, always fickle, began to shift. Some saw him as a genuinely remorseful man, paying a heavy price for his actions. Sympathy began to outweigh condemnation. Maya saw the video. Her friends in her new, quiet life showed it to her, concerned. She watched it, her expression unreadable. "He's a good actor," she said, a cynical amusement in her voice. "He always was." She found a strange contentment in her solitude, in the thythms of her new, simple life. The bookstore, her books, the quiet mountains. It was enough. She had no desire to re-engage with Liam's drama, his public displays of remorse. She was done. ---- Her phone rang. An unknown number. She knew it was him. He was like a bloodhound, relentless. She ignored it. It rang again, from a different number. And again. He was using burner phones, new SIM cards, anything to get through. Exasperated, she finally answered, her voice cold as the Montana winter. "What do you want, Liam?" His shocked silence, then a choked, "Maya? Is that... is that really you?" "Yes, it's me," she said, her tone flat. "Stop calling me. Stop looking for me. It's over." "Maya, please, just listen to me. | need to tell you how sorry | am. | made a terrible mistake..." "| don't love you anymore, Liam," she cut him off, her words clear and sharp. "There's nothing left to say."