Hilda stumped the length of the room furiously, her eyes thin slits of rage. She couldn't get her feet to stop moving and it was giving Eugene a headache. "Will you stop moving, you're making me dizzy and it's not helpful," he said. Hilda glared at him, she was looking for a way to vent, but then she knew Eugene couldn't be her target, she was still pretending to be cordial with him. "This is very frustrating, Eugene, can you believe that boy? He came and destroyed our entire plan," she said and groaned loudly. Eugene nodded, it was obvious that Bradford wanted to renegotiate and that was all thanks to Jeremy's interference. "Maybe we should have been more careful with the meeting, like last time," he said. "You think this is my fault? I did everything as we agreed, I didn't call him, I didn't text him, I dropped a message to him by the delivery man and he showed up there, how on earth did he get followed!" She snapped, sighing at all the failed efforts. "Maybe he wasn't the one
Bradford Kingston sat on the low stool in the dimly lit bar. He left his cane at him because he didn't want to announce to the crowd that he had a bad leg. He had to stay strong, he had to remain powerful in the battle he'd just found himself. He still had a smile on his face from the confrontation with the woman, Hilda, and her lunatic son. He couldn't help but be pleased at how quickly the table had turned and she was now on the receiving end. "I have to be strong," he muttered to himself as he ordered another glass of sparkling water. Bradford looked at his watch again and groaned, he was running late for his interview and it was the third time he'd postponed it that week, he didn't want to do that again. With another glass of water, he went to the restroom, he needed a free bladder to strike a good deal after all - and most importantly no alcohol in his system. But just as Bradford walked to the restroom, Sinclair and Jeremy walked right in. Sinclair took the adjourning table,
The days were growing even warmer in California and Jeremy wondered if the concept of global warming was going to be the only thing reported on the news. Even as he sat, he could hear the reporter croon on and on about saving the planet. "But we've ruined it already, not like we can just give it some antibiotics to make it all go away," he commented dryly as he watched the news. Sinclair who was right beside him was a little more concerned and began to give him a lecture on how to stop emissions and save the environment. Speaking of saving, Jeremy was reminded that he wanted Sinclair back at his firm and saved from the scorn of the other partners. He deserved a happy life and he didn't have to be hurt just because they were friends. "How's the renovations at the firm going?" He asked and Sinclair nodded, "It's going smoothly," he replied vaguely, not really what he wanted to hear. "I don't think that's a positive response, Sinclair, what's going on?" He asked with a frown. "Liste
The news headline was shocking. Jeremy wondered if it was all made up or a lie. "How did you find this?" He asked. "I think Bradford had a way of stopping the major news sites from publishing it, maybe an insider," Christy replied. "Bradford has an insider in California? Didn't he just arrive here?" Sinclair asked, surprised. "That's what he made us believe," Christy replied and that was when Jeremy sneered. He was reminded that she had been the investigator in the first place. "Made you believe, you mean?" Jeremy asked her, his eyes narrowed to slits, "You were the one who was hired to investigate Bradford what did you do? You fucking made us believe you had him figured out! You said he was just a military guy with some PTSD and now he's the one with the connection to stop media houses from getting a juicy story out there? Really, who is this guy?" Christy sighed, "Can we sit down and talk?" She asked and Sinclair cut right in, "No, we can't, you will say whatever you have to sa
The Kingston mansion looked the same as it had for all the times that he'd visited. But Jeremy could almost smell the excitement in the air as he stepped into the living room. Even the servants who were a little weary didn't even ask them who they came to see, they simply asked him in and gave him a seat and two glasses of the best champagne. "Is it just me or you can smell something different around here?" Jeremy asked as he looked around the room. "Yeah, the staff aren't as uppity as they usually are," Sinclair noted. Jeremy laughed, so he was right, they did look a little easy that day. Shortly after, another maid came and asked them to go to the dining hall and have a proper lunch. "I'm not ready to have the last supper," Sinclair replied meaningfully and the maid frowned and walked off. "What's with the niceties?" Jeremy asked just as Hilda came down from the stairs and walked into the room. "Can't you be a gentleman and enjoy a little luxury?" She asked as she took a seat
Gasping for air, Jeremy sat up on the bed, pushing the heavy duvet off his chest, he already felt strangled as it was. He turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. It was a few minutes past 3:00 a.m. and he had barely slept for two hours. Jeremy sighed loudly and swung his feet off the bed, heading to the bathroom, with all the sweat pouring from his skin he needed a shower. Jeremy had just woken from a peculiar dream or maybe it was a nightmare, he couldn't tell. In the dream he saw his father, right beside him on his favorite swing when he was a child, they were talking about everything when suddenly he turned to him and said the scariest thing, "You are going to be but a ghost soon."It sounded so real, almost like the old man was wishing him dead. Jeremy had realized right then that he was not a boy on the swing but a grown-up man and his father was the ghost coming to haunt him, he however vanished before he could say anything. Jeremy waved off the
Hanson reached out to Jeremy the following day with the most scary information. He had found his strange withdrawal from the lord's account three years ago, and the withdrawal was meant using a one-time token. A whooping amount of $300 million had been taken from the account but since then nothing else had been removed. First of all Jeremy had no idea that the lord still had a dormant account. He would have thought that Hilda at least his own son Gilbert would be his next kin and take over all his wealth since he was gone - or was he? Sadly, no member of the Kingston family had access to lord Kingston's personal finances. So everything Hilda was spending on the case was strictly from her own pocket, no wonder she invested in the charity events like her life depended on it - in a way it did.Jeremy arrived home early at that day, there was little work to do at the office and Bob left him with a few papers to sign but that was about it. He had to quickly change up and follow the lead
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