Alexander’s heart raced. He could feel the thud of it in his ears, drowning out the world. He looked toward Bucks, who leaned forward, his expression grave. The weight of the moment crashed over him. What if he said the wrong thing? What if he didn’t say anything at all? “No, your honor, the defendant pleads not guilty,” Bucks said, the words escaping his lips like a fragile bird taking flight. But doubt gnawed at him. Was that truly the right answer? The murmurs rippled through the room, and the judge raised an eyebrow. “Counsel to the defendant, I need to hear you. Are you pleading not guilty?” “Yes, Your Honor,” Bucks affirmed, his voice steadier this time. “the defendant wishes to plead not guilty.” “Very well.” The judge’s gaze hardened as she adjusted her glasses. “The evidence presented thus far suggests a grave understanding of your actions, Mr. Ryder. You stand accused of crimes against the late Mrs. Louis Rogers. The court will now hear the prosecution’s argument.” T

As the crowd began to disperse, Maverick pushed through the throng of angry citizens, his heart pounding with urgency. He had watched Kendrick walk away, a figure of strength amid the chaos, and he knew he had to reach him. This was a rare moment, a fleeting opportunity he couldn’t let slip by.“Excuse me, sir!” Maverick called out, quickening his pace. He saw Kendrick’s broad shoulders, flanked by Xavier and the other guards. The icy stares from the officers only fueled his determination as he pressed on. “Please, sir! Just your attention… I’m begging you!”Kendrick paused, turning slowly to face Maverick. The intensity of his gaze was disarming. “Come over here. I don’t have all day. How do I help you?”Maverick felt a wave of relief wash over him, yet his throat tightened. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I... I’m sorry, sir. Please, I wanted to meet you and tell you that I apologize for everything that has happened between my family and yours. For the humiliation,

Peterson emerged from his room right on time to meet his daughter sitting in the lobby, her eyes fixed on the outer part of the compound, she seemed lost in thought as she couldn’t notice his presence, not even the loud echo from him closing the door.He paused to observe her for a moment, “What must be bothering my daughter to the extent of her standing by the outer rails in this manner?” he asked himself as he strolled to her, his hands stretching towards her when they rested on her shoulder, she turned with a widened stare.“...oh, sorry sir, I mean… sorry Dad.” she stammered, turning to hurry into the house.“No wait, you seem to have been lost in thought, do you mind telling me what’s bothering you?”Emily halted, faking a smile, “It’s nothing Dad… she pretended, but her face betrayed her smile. Peterson held her back, “Is there something you want to talk to me about my dear?” he asked again.Emily nodded, “Y...Yes Dad.” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.Peterson hur

Kendrick leaned against the cool metal of the car, the tension from the hospital visit still coursing through him. “Xavier, get in the car. We need to catch up with the meeting,” he commanded, his voice firm but edged with a hint of impatience. Xavier nodded quickly, the urgency of the situation clear in his eyes. “Yes, boss,” he replied, sliding into the passenger seat as Kendrick took the driver’s side. The engine roared to life, cutting through the silence that enveloped them.As they sped through the bustling streets of Texas, Kendrick’s mind churned with frustration. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had lost something vital today—an opportunity, a connection. He glanced at his phone, noticing a message that had just beeped. It was from Brandon, one of his guards who had been receiving treatment for a minor injury."I'm all good boss, I'll be going for some fitness exercises before I commence work again."A grin broke across Kendrick’s face despite his irritation. He qui

Kendrick leaned back in his plush seat, the weight of the day slowly fading as he reveled in the camaraderie with Methot. The fruit wine glistened in its crystal glass, and the atmosphere of the Top Hills Eatery felt like a cocoon of promise. As they delved deeper into their partnership, Kendrick’s mind flickered to his manager, Sophia Powell. He needed her expertise for the deal they’d just discussed. “Hey, Methot,” he said, cutting into the flow of their conversation, “I think it’s time we bring Sophia into this. I want her to finalize the contract with the investors while we keep pushing our plans forward.” Methot nodded, intrigued. “Good idea. She’s sharp and knows how to handle negotiations. Should we get her on the phone now?” “Let me shoot her a quick message.” Kendrick pulled out his phone, typing rapidly. “Alright, sent. Now, let’s talk about the other thing I’ve been avoiding.” He hesitated, the weight of the words pressing against his throat. Methot leaned forward, his