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
It felt good to see the Sinclair firm standing strong again after the unfortunate incident that ruined the entire place. As Jeremy drove in, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight.The building was towering, the signpost proud at the entrance and the grass had been replaced with synthetic grass carpets that looked way healthier than the original thing. Jeremy couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of plastic. At the parking lot, he could see Sinclair's car on the left side as he stepped out and shut his door, locking the car behind him. The lobby was redesigned a little but he could still see some semblance of the old firm in the renovations. In the elevator, he looked at his watch, it was a few minutes after noon and he was happy to have arrived on time. His mission at the bank proved abortive. Benedict had not been kidding when he said that he was risking his life and entire career just by getting copies of the records. Jeremy was barely allowed into the accountant's office and
Cynthia was placed under the heat of the midday sun, her eyes flicking at her watch now and then. She was a little anxious to meet the anonymous caller who had asked to see her. She was well aware that she'd stirred up a little talk in town with her sudden emergence, but she was basking in it. "How long are they going to keep us here for? We've been waiting for forever," Tricia, who was in the back of the car, snapped. Cynthia rolled her eyes at her daughter and replied, "We came here earlier than we were supposed to, in fact, technically it's just not time for the meetup yet," she stated. Tricia groaned and muttered something under her breath about rich people and their nasty habits. "You'll have to quit saying that, Tee," Cynthia warned her but she retorted defensively that it was the truth. "But I'm right, mum, rich people don't care about anyone but themselves, and right now, we're trying to get into their world, it's gonna be frustrating," she groaned again. Cynthia leveled
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
The three men looked at each other in silence. What Fred had said made no sense at all, there was no singular way of knowing who the true heir of the Kingston inheritance was or what the illegitimate child should look like. "This sounds like utter bullshit and I mean no offense, Fred," Jeremy said. Maybe it was his cravings for Chinese food or that he was just hungry, or maybe it was the irritation from the previous day's meeting with Cynthia and Tricia. He wasn't certain exactly why but he could tell he had no patience for crap. "No offense taken, Jeremy, but it is rather sad that you can't see what's right before your face," Fred said and shook his head, sipping his black coffee that had just arrived at the table. "So you came all the way here to find me and speak to me in parables?" Jeremy asked, he was about to call him jobless but then he did not want to offend Fred. "That's a thoughtful thing to do, thanks," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Fred laughed at his sarca
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 sound of the rain falling on the roof of his car sort of calmed him. Jeremy sighed as he cuddled a hot styrofoam cup of coffee on his lap and listened to the weather report on the radio. It was morning and the weather had surprised him as it did everyone else in the city. The day had started pretty sunny and then the clouds were out and soon, it was raining cats and dogs. "Climate change," Jeremy muttered as he listened to the reporter go on and on about the unpredictable state of the weather for the past few days. But if Jeremy was to be entirely honest, he'd seen a few clouds gathering the previous evening and it was a little chill too. Turning down the volume of the radio, he pulled on his raincoat from the backseat over himself and grabbed a towel from the glove compartment. He didn't have an umbrella on him because he wasn't exactly expecting the downpour. Opening the door, Jeremy raced to the porch of the restaurant and huddled with the crowd there. His eyes scanned throu
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
Jeremy was shaking on the spot as he stared at the face of lord Kingston. He'd seen the man only a few times in real life as a child. When his father had taken him to meet with him once and a while. His memories were a little shaky but he knew that the lord was a handsome man who was aging finely. But even if he had never seen the lord before, he would still be able to recognize him. Right there on the makeshift hospital bed was lord Kingston with tubes sticking out of him in all the wrong places. His face was peacefully calm and his nod remained still on the bed. After the first shock wore off, Jeremy became alert again and quickly rushed to check his vitals. Even without grabbing his wrist, he could tell that the lord was still alive because the heart monitor on the wall was still ticking strongly. Jeremy however still checked his pulse and heartbeat manually, just in case the monitor was faulty. He looked around the room and could see different cabinets and drawers, they were al
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 sound of the rain falling on the roof of his car sort of calmed him. Jeremy sighed as he cuddled a hot styrofoam cup of coffee on his lap and listened to the weather report on the radio. It was morning and the weather had surprised him as it did everyone else in the city. The day had started pretty sunny and then the clouds were out and soon, it was raining cats and dogs. "Climate change," Jeremy muttered as he listened to the reporter go on and on about the unpredictable state of the weather for the past few days. But if Jeremy was to be entirely honest, he'd seen a few clouds gathering the previous evening and it was a little chill too. Turning down the volume of the radio, he pulled on his raincoat from the backseat over himself and grabbed a towel from the glove compartment. He didn't have an umbrella on him because he wasn't exactly expecting the downpour. Opening the door, Jeremy raced to the porch of the restaurant and huddled with the crowd there. His eyes scanned throu
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 three men looked at each other in silence. What Fred had said made no sense at all, there was no singular way of knowing who the true heir of the Kingston inheritance was or what the illegitimate child should look like. "This sounds like utter bullshit and I mean no offense, Fred," Jeremy said. Maybe it was his cravings for Chinese food or that he was just hungry, or maybe it was the irritation from the previous day's meeting with Cynthia and Tricia. He wasn't certain exactly why but he could tell he had no patience for crap. "No offense taken, Jeremy, but it is rather sad that you can't see what's right before your face," Fred said and shook his head, sipping his black coffee that had just arrived at the table. "So you came all the way here to find me and speak to me in parables?" Jeremy asked, he was about to call him jobless but then he did not want to offend Fred. "That's a thoughtful thing to do, thanks," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Fred laughed at his sarca
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
Cynthia was placed under the heat of the midday sun, her eyes flicking at her watch now and then. She was a little anxious to meet the anonymous caller who had asked to see her. She was well aware that she'd stirred up a little talk in town with her sudden emergence, but she was basking in it. "How long are they going to keep us here for? We've been waiting for forever," Tricia, who was in the back of the car, snapped. Cynthia rolled her eyes at her daughter and replied, "We came here earlier than we were supposed to, in fact, technically it's just not time for the meetup yet," she stated. Tricia groaned and muttered something under her breath about rich people and their nasty habits. "You'll have to quit saying that, Tee," Cynthia warned her but she retorted defensively that it was the truth. "But I'm right, mum, rich people don't care about anyone but themselves, and right now, we're trying to get into their world, it's gonna be frustrating," she groaned again. Cynthia leveled
It felt good to see the Sinclair firm standing strong again after the unfortunate incident that ruined the entire place. As Jeremy drove in, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight.The building was towering, the signpost proud at the entrance and the grass had been replaced with synthetic grass carpets that looked way healthier than the original thing. Jeremy couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of plastic. At the parking lot, he could see Sinclair's car on the left side as he stepped out and shut his door, locking the car behind him. The lobby was redesigned a little but he could still see some semblance of the old firm in the renovations. In the elevator, he looked at his watch, it was a few minutes after noon and he was happy to have arrived on time. His mission at the bank proved abortive. Benedict had not been kidding when he said that he was risking his life and entire career just by getting copies of the records. Jeremy was barely allowed into the accountant's office and