The "Azure Wings" project wasn't just back on the table; it had become a battlefield.
Evelyn arrived at the office to find the atmosphere vibrating with a different kind of tension. It wasn't the cold dismissal of last week, but a frantic, desperate energy. Marcus Thorne, the board member who had been watching Liam like a hawk from his black SUV, had made his move. He didn't just want to cancel Evelyn's project—he wanted to use it to bankrupt Liam's reputation.
Liam didn't call Evelyn into his office. He sent her a calendar invite for a "Site Visit."
The location was not a shiny skyscraper. It was a derelict industrial lot in the South Bronx, surrounded by rusted chain-link fences and the smell of wet concrete.
When Evelyn arrived, Liam was already there. He wasn't wearing his thousand-dollar blazer. He was in a simple black sweater, his hair slightly disheveled by the wind. He stood in the center of the cracked pavement, looking at a group of local protesters holding signs that read: "No Luxury Condos in Our Home."
"They think we're here to gentrify them," Liam said, his voice barely audible over the shouting. He didn't look at her. "Marcus Thorne leaked a fake version of your proposal to the press this morning. He told them the 'Azure Wings' is actually a high-end private club that will drive up their rent and push them out."
Evelyn felt the blood drain from her face. "But it's a community center! It's for them!"
"The truth is a weak shield against a well-funded lie, Evelyn," Liam turned to her, his eyes hard and unreadable. "The board is meeting in four hours to vote on whether to liquidate the project entirely to 'save the firm's public image.' If you want to save your dream, you have to do something the 'Architect of Iron' would never do."
"What?"
"You have to go rogue."
He handed her a flash drive. "On this is the real data. The cost-saving measures I calculated, the local employment quotas, and the actual blueprints. I can't be the one to release it. If it comes from me, it looks like a desperate CEO protecting his pet project. It has to come from the 'whistleblower' architect who was 'dismissed' last week."
Evelyn stared at the drive. "You want me to sabotage the firm? Liam, if this fails, they'll blackball me from the industry forever. And you'll lose your company."
Liam stepped closer. For the first time, he didn't look like a boss. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff. "I've spent ten years building walls. Maybe it's time I let one fall. The question is, do you trust me enough to jump?"
Evelyn spent the next three hours in a chaotic internet cafe, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was terrified. This was the "innovation" in the script she hadn't expected—Liam wasn't protecting her; he was weaponizing her.
She opened SoulSync.
[Little Deer]: "He's asking me to do something crazy, Whale. He's asking me to set fire to my own career to save the soul of a project. He says he can't do it himself. He's putting his entire life in my hands. Is this a trap? Or is he finally showing me the poet?"
The reply came almost instantly.
[Deep Sea Whale]: "It's not a trap, Deer. It's a confession. He's giving you the power because he knows he's lost his own. He's been a prisoner of that 42nd floor for too long. By asking you to destroy his facade, he's asking you to set him free. Trust the compass, Deer. It doesn't point North; it points to the truth."
Evelyn looked at the silver compass keychain sitting next to her laptop. "So you never lose your way to the clouds."
She hit 'Send' on the email to the city's biggest architectural blog.
The board meeting was a bloodbath.
Liam sat at the head of the table, silent and motionless as Marcus Thorne screamed about "unauthorized leaks" and "public relations disasters." The news had broken twenty minutes ago: "The Hero of the Bronx: The Truth Behind Azure Wings."
The blog post hadn't just released the data; it had released Evelyn's hand-painted watercolor sketches of the local children playing in the gardens. It showed the midnight-blue ink notes Liam had made—the ones where he had cut his own salary to fund the solar panels.
The public's reaction was a tidal wave of support. The "Architect of Iron" was being rebranded as a "Secret Philanthropist."
"You did this, didn't you, Liam?" Thorne hissed, slamming his fist on the table. "You leaked this to that girl!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Marcus," Liam said, his voice as smooth as polished silk. "I was in a meeting with you. But it seems the public has spoken. If we cancel the project now, our stock will plummet 15% by morning. The Azure Wings stays. And Miss Lin stays as its head."
Late that night, Evelyn was still at the South Bronx site. The protesters were gone, replaced by a quiet, hopeful stillness.
A car door closed. Liam walked toward her, his silhouette tall and solitary against the city lights.
He didn't say thank you. He didn't apologize. He simply stood beside her, looking at the empty lot that would soon be a masterpiece.
"You took a big risk," he said quietly.
"I had a good advisor," Evelyn replied, looking at him sideways. "He told me to trust the truth."
Liam pulled his phone from his pocket. He didn't look at the screen. He looked at her.
"I've decided to delete the app," he said.
Evelyn's breath hitched. "Why?"
"Because," he stepped closer, the smell of sandalwood and rain wrapping around her like a blanket. "I'm tired of being a ghost. And I think the 'Little Deer' deserves a man who can look her in the eye when he tells her she's brilliant."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, vintage fountain pen. He held it out to her.
"The Midnight Blue ink?" Evelyn whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
"The Midnight Blue ink," Liam confirmed, his voice breaking for the first time. "I used it to sign the contracts for the foundation. But I want you to use it to draw the wings."
Evelyn didn't take the pen. Instead, she took his hand. His skin was warm, a startling contrast to the cold metal of his reputation.
In the distance, a siren wailed, and the city hummed with its usual indifference. But in that derelict lot, the silence was finally broken.
"Julian," she whispered, using the real name he had once mentioned in a fleeting SoulSync conversation months ago.
Liam—Julian—shuddered. He leaned his forehead against hers, the iron finally melting into something human.
"I'm here, Evelyn. I'm finally here."