Liam’s men returned to him by the second day, their faces marked with exhaustion and dirt. Liam, usually composed and collected, couldn’t help but fidget in his seat as they entered the room. He motioned for them to sit, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Well?" he demanded, his voice laced with impatience. "What have you found?"
One of the men cleared his throat nervously, pushing a stray strand of hair behind his ear. "It's her, sir," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's Alyssa."
Liam’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched tightly. The name slashed through him like a knife, reopening wounds that he thought had healed long ago. "Alyssa," he repeated, the name dripping with contempt. "She dares to go by another name?"
The second man hesitated for a moment before adding, "
