The smell of coffee and freshly baked loaves was thick in the air. Sinclair grabbed his mug and it warmed his fingertips as he blew on the surface of the brown liquid. "All that sugar isn't so good for a man your age," Jeremy reminded him as he drank his latte. “You need to live a little, Jeremy," Sinclair replied with a smug smile. Jeremy rolled his eyes and grabbed his cup of espresso. He did not order the pancake-like the lawyer did because he didn't have an appetite for anything other than Chinese soup. Sinclair was allergic to Chinese food and so he had turned down the offer to meet at the exquisite Chinese restaurant downtown. But even with his allergy, Sinclair sometimes indulged in the nice dish. He was an embodiment of a strong and resilient man. Earlier that day, Jeremy could still remember walking into him making a phone call with a client that he was representing for a murder case. It was a surprise how Sinclair bounced back right on his feet after such a tragic incide

Hilda wasn't going to take chances with the new lady in town talking about Kingston like she knew him more than anyone else. Despite Gilbert and Eugene's warnings, she decided to take that risk and try to meet up with Cynthia once again. At first, Cynthia blatantly refused but after a second phone call and agreeing to go over to the spa again, she finally gave in. Hilda had to shift grounds and agree to meet in public since Cynthia was skeptical about coming to the estate. Dressed in a pair of black trousers and a chiffon top, Hilda moved into the spa and took a seat closest to the pool. It was a different crowd from the one she'd seen the last time at the spat. But they were very similar in many ways, rich, uppity, and lazy women who knew nothing about making a penny but a lot about how to spend it. Hilda could not help but feel a wave of jealousy wash over her as she waited in the spa. Cynthia using the place twice in a row was a sign that she visited there often. It was not a c

The next day, Jeremy arrived at a tool shop very early in the morning, he was dressed in a form-fitting spandex and a pair of sunglasses, his feet tucked into a sturdy boot and his fingers gloved. "I'll have a chisel, a hammer, and a six-meter rope," he said to the girl at the counter who looked at him skeptically. "Are you working on something?" She asked and swallowed nervously. "You could say that," he replied and he could see the girl's eyes widen. "Don't worry, I'm not a psychopath," he said and she sighed but then he added, "I think," as he swiped his card, paid for everything he'd just bought, and backed it into his trunk. He was driving a nude-colored truck with tires larger than the regular, his backseat was filled with everything he needed to take down a door and even a wall if he needed to.Jeremy had spent the past night trying to make sense of what he had just seen the previous evening. It shouldn't have been anything worthy of note that Eugene went to the drug store a

The room was as brooding and intimidating as the men who sat in it. It was so large that the walls could almost not be seen from the entrance. The cold air blasted from the air conditioning unit and there was no single furniture in the room except the mahogany table and six chairs that surrounded it. It was Jeremy's first time appearing before the council and he was dressed for the occasion. His white suit was immaculate and he'd had his show made the previous day. He was dressed like the heir he was as he stepped into the room. Sinclair smiled at him from across the room where he sat with the rest of the council but the smile was so slight that someone else couldn't have noticed it.Jeremy wasn't the only one standing before the council. Gilbert was likewise dressed in a white suit - making Jeremy regret picking the color - and his mother, Hilda was dressed in a tight purple dress that hugged her bodice like a second skin and extended to the floor like a wide wave, covering most of