Maverick's face hardened as he stared at Doran's blunt text ssage. Just one word—"Nope"—followed by another text that slamd the door in his face: "I've already spoken to Maxwell too. Don't waste your ti."
He tried calling Doran again, his finger jabbing at the screen with increasing frustration. The call went straight to voicemail. Doran was deliberately avoiding him.
Maverick ran a hand through his hair, pacing the length of his office. With both Doran and Maxwell refusing to help, his options were dwindling. Then a mory surfaced—Edric ntioning that he'd had so professional interactions with Malcolm Blair. They'd even shared a al together.
Hope flickered. Maverick imdiately pulled up Edric's contact and called him, but the call went unanswered. Hours passed before his phone finally lit up with Edric's na in the evening.
"I need Malcolm Blair's contact information," Maverick said without preamble after they exchanged brief greetings.
There was a pause on the other end. "I don't have Mr. Blair's number," Edric replied, his voice asured.
"You don't?" Maverick's skepticism was evident. "Didn't you have dinner with him and my old man before? You guys didn't exchange contacts?"
"No," Edric said simply.
Maverick's grip tightened on his phone. "Are you sure? Or did my old man tell you not to give it to ?" His voice held an accusatory edge.
"I really don't have it," Edric insisted, confusion coloring his tone. "Even though we had dinner together, I'm not familiar with Mr. Blair. Honestly, I think in his eyes, I'm no different from a stranger. He's not the type to take care of juniors—he's actually pretty distant."
Maverick's shoulders slumped. He could tell from Edric's explanation that he was telling the truth. Another dead end.
"Why do you want to contact him?" Edric asked, curiosity evident in his voice.
"Just to talk about sothing," Maverick replied vaguely, unwilling to dive into the ssy details.
Edric was silent for a mont, piecing together the situation from Maverick's frustrated tone and the context of their previous conversations. "Did Ms. Crystal and Dario have so kind of falling out?" he finally ventured.
Maverick was taken aback by Edric's perceptiveness. "Is it that obvious?"
Edric didn't imdiately respond. His mind was working through the information he'd gathered over ti. Maverick had previously claid that Veronica and Dario were romantically involved, suggesting Veronica was targeting Niall out of jealousy over her talents. But Edric had observed them at last year's banquet and hadn't detected any romantic tension between them.
It wasn't until his ti at the training base that Edric discovered Veronica was also a student of Malcolm's. That revelation had clarified Dario's protective attitude toward her—it wasn't born from romantic feelings but from a shared connection to their ntor.
Even before knowing about this ntor-student relationship, Edric had doubted that Veronica was the type to target other won out of jealousy. The assumption that she and Dario were romantically involved now seed clearly mistaken.
"So, what exactly happened?" Edric finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Maverick exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples as if trying to massage away a headache. He gave Edric a condensed version of recent events, his frustration mounting as he spoke.
"I know Niall was partly at fault here," Maverick admitted reluctantly. "But wanting to terminate the contract over sothing like this—don't you think that's just ridiculous?"
"I'm not going to comnt on that," Edric responded carefully. "But you want to contact Mr. Blair just because you think Dario went too far?"
Maverick didn't imdiately answer. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts and mounting tension.
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