CHAPTER 14
Author: R. AUSTINNITE
last update2024-09-25 16:03:33

Arriving at the office, Tedmond placed Bianca on the couch next to him and handed her the tablet so she could use it while he worked.

Sitting in the chair made specifically for him in his new office, he glanced at the piles of paper laid out before him. Lora stood in front of the desk, showing no sign of wanting to sit down.

"Have you reported everything that needs to be reported?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

Tedmond glanced at the piles of documents again. "The company was functioning quite w
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  • CHAPTER 818

    Lorenzo leaned in closer, his voice a frantic, wet wheeze. "We want to see the look on your face when you realize that Thomas wasn't the only one who watched your grandfather beg. We want to be the ones who finally put the Washington name in the sold column!"Tedmond didn't respond with anger. He didn't even stand up.Instead, he leaned back, closed his eyes for a brief second, and exhaled a long, weary sigh. It was the sound of a man who had finally heard enough."Unhinged," Tedmond murmured to the ceiling. "You’ve spent so much time in the dark that you’ve started eating your own lies."*****Three hundred yards away, the air inside the surveillance van vibrated with the hum of high-end servers. Albert sat with his headset pressed tight to his ears, fingers hovering over a glowing red override key. The audio from the necklace was coming through with crystal clarity; Lorenzo’s frantic ranting filled the monitors."He's lost it," Albert muttered, eyes tracking a cluster of green d

  • CHAPTER 817

    "Fake," Marcella spat, her voice ringing with sharp, artificial clarity. "You come into our home, Mr. Washington, with digital 'receipts' provided by a technician hiding in a van, and you expect us to bow?"Her gaze turned serious."Do you have any idea how many times the Moretti crest has been forged in the last century? We are the architects of Mediterranean trade. Our stamps, our digital signatures, our very seal… they are the most impersonated symbols in the underworld."She took a step closer to Tedmond, her eyes wide with manic, rehearsed conviction."Any amateur with a high-end server could mirror our frequency. Any rival looking to push the Washingtons against the Morettis could have planted those logs.""There are fakes out there, Tedmond, and you've swallowed one whole because you're so desperate for a target that you've lost the ability to distinguish a signature from a shadow."Tedmond's expression didn't shift. He didn't glance at the data on his watch.He just looked at

  • CHAPTER 816

    A collective flinch rippled through the Moretti line.Lorenzo’s eyes darted to the floor; Marcella’s stoic mask finally fractured. Even Juliette looked away, the long cigarette holder trembling in her grip. They hadn't rehearsed a lie for this. They were staring at a man who had unearthed the one secret they couldn't bury with a checkbook.The reaction was momentary, a hairline crack in a dam before the flood of denial rushed back.Lorenzo recovered first. He smoothed his silvered hair with a hand that had found its way from shaking to a rigid, unnatural stillness."Delusional," Lorenzo breathed, the word escaping as a soft, pitying huff. He glanced at the other elders, a hollow, mocking chuckle passing between them. "Mr. Washington, I knew you were grieving a legacy you barely understood, but I didn't realize you had drifted so far from reality."He stepped forward, spreading his hands wide as if appealing to the very stones of the Atrium. "Think about what you are suggesting!

  • CHAPTER 815

    It started as a rhythmic, mocking sound that grew in volume, echoing through the Atrium like a funeral march for the Moretti reputation.“Oh, bravo!” Juliette sneered, her face twisting as she joined the clapping with violent, sarcastic energy.“The Washington woman has a speech! She’s so smart, so calculated! Tell me, Persis, does that intelligence help when the lights go out, and the doors won't open?”But the mockery of the Moretti women was drowned out by the sheer terror of the other guests. The families weren't clapping for the drama; they were realizing Persis was right.The Sokolov heirs were already backing toward the shadows, their faces ashen.The tension reached a breaking point. Suddenly, the heavy oak doors at the far end of the Atrium, the service entrance, burst open. It wasn't the guards. It was the sound of the mansion's internal alarm systems being shredded by a remote override."The doors," Lorenzo whispered, his face turning pale.Seeing the cold murder in Ted

  • CHAPTER 814

    In an instant, the ghostly silence of the house was replaced by the heavy, synchronized thud of boots. From behind silk tapestries and the dark corners of the gallery, a phalanx of men in matte-black tactical gear swarmed the exit. They moved with predatory efficiency, faces obscured by balaclavas, forming a human wall of carbon fiber and steel that blocked Tedmond and Persis’s path.“Return to your seats,” Lorenzo commanded, his voice shaking with a newfound, jagged authority. He stepped forward, his hawk-like face twisting into a mocking grin as he looked at the couple, then at the empty spaced them.“You came here alone, Tedmond,” Lorenzo sneered, finally dropping the 'Mr. Washington, as he gestured to the wall of guards. “You showed up with nothing but a gold-clad wife and a sense of entitlement. Did you really think we would let you insult the Moretti blood and walk out into the night?”One of the younger Moretti men stepped forward, leaning in with a chuckle. “Look at them.

  • CHAPTER 813

    “No,” Tedmond said. The word carried the weight of a mountain.“No?” Lorenzo stammered, his glass pausing halfway to his lips. “But... it’s the key, Tedmond. It’s the Architect. Your white whale. Surely you aren't going to let it slip away for a pittance?”Tedmond’s head snapped toward Lorenzo, his eyes narrowing into razor-thin slits of ice. The temperature in the front row seemed to plummet as he leaned in, his shadow looming over the elder like a shroud.“It is Mr. Washington to you,” Tedmond corrected, his voice a low, vibrating growl that cut through the gallery's murmurs. “I don’t recall giving a man who sells his own secrets the right to use my first name. You would do well to remember exactly who you are speaking to before you open your mouth again.”The silence that followed was absolute. Juliette, Marcella, and the rest of the Moretti women froze, their expressions shifting from mocking triumph to stunned disbelief. No one spoke to a Moretti elder that way, not in this h

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