On the drive to the industrial layout which Hanson had sent him the location to, Jeremy reflected on his relationship with Sinclair. For some odd reason, he felt really bad reflecting on how much he had become dependent on the lawyer. During his first few months getting introduced into the Kingston case, the only person he walked closely with was Hanson whom he had known a long time ago. But somehow, Sinclair had gotten into the picture and now he couldn't even deny that the man was a strong bark behind him throughout the race. He also felt bad for trying to sideline him, although this time not because he mistrusted him but because yet again he was trying to make sure no one got trapped in the dynamite that was his life. Jeremy sighed lightly, his hands tightly wrapped around the steering wheel as he turned into the busy street. Hanson had informed him of a certain account officer who was closer to lord Kingston than the rest. He figured that if anybody knew much about the whereabo

Hilda stood at the edge of the balcony. Looking down at the distance longingly. She had never been a fan of giving up or believing that all was over, but as she looked at the field below, She could sympathize with all suicide victims. For a minute, despite her strength and resilience, Hilda almost contemplated jumping down from the balcony and ending it. It would be the end of all her worries and sleepless nights, she would finally rest peacefully knowing that nobody claimed the inheritance and she had to watch them take over all she and her husband had worked for. But in a twisted way, Hilda also knew that would be a failure. It would mean that she did not get to the inheritance anyway, dead or alive. With a heavy sigh, she swirled the wine in her glass slowly and pulled her coat closer, blowing out the cold air. It was mid-morning and the sun was just barely rising, coloring the horizon beautifully with multiple shades, Hilda could recall when she was younger. All she ever wanted

Heart racing at what Cynthia just said, Hilda was frozen to the spot. She watched as the woman staggered back to the poolside and grabbed another bottle of wine. Hilda noticed that most of the women around the pool had slowly left, it was just her, Cynthia, and a nosey lady by the side who was more interested in what was going on with herself and Cynthia rather than the swimming she'd come for. "A Kingston you said?" Hilda asked, hoping her voice did not betray her emotions - fear, disgust, murder. Cynthia gulped down another glass of wine and nodded aggressively, "What do you want? DNA results?" She asked drunkenly, her voice rising an octave higher. From her movements and gestures, she wouldn't be able to have a decent discussion in just a few minutes, she was taking the wine too hard and too fast. She was drunk. "Oh, you have no idea what I'll need to see before I believe that crap!" Hilda retorted, glaring at her. Cynthia laughed, she leaned on the table and then belched loudl

Hilda paced the length of the room, she couldn't seem to get her feet to stop moving even if she tried. Her face was contorted into an ugly frown and her fist clenched until her knuckles whitened. "You're going to get a heart attack, mum, the doctor has said that your blood pressure is very high and you need to calm down," Gilbert advised as calmly as he could when he noticed that he was beginning to gasp for breath. "I am fine! The doctor is a bloody idiot who doesn't know anything but how to get his monthly cheque!" She snapped, spittle flying as she spoke. Gilbert sighed and kept mute in his seat. He should have guessed that she wouldn't react in any other way than that. Hilda fumed, she still didn't take her seat despite what her son was saying. And yes, she knew she was at risk of a heart attack. She had been since the horrible incident with Bradford. The humiliation was getting out of hand and the money that she'd lost was beginning to take a toll on the family's finances."F

Jeremy spent a full night, missing sleep and any rest just to sort through the account records that Benedict had given to him. It looked as dormant as he would have expected. The last transfer had been made when lord Kingston was still operational and living with his family. In the following years after his disappearance, there was no activity whatsoever in his private account. The money remained intact in an unknown currency, even Benedict had no exact idea how much lord Kingston had in his account. Kingston was not called the most powerful man in the city for nothing, he had the wealth of a hundred men and oftentimes people criticized him for living like an ordinary man when he should have been living like some god. As much as Jeremy could understand why Kingston decided to split his wealth between partners, he still could not fathom why he would deny his son access to his account. He had enough money to take care of his family many years after his disappearance even if they neve