Shock rippled through the room as they heard the voice. A guest of the Washington family? Eyes turned to Tedmond, widening in disbelief.
To be a guest of the Washington family meant that Tedmond was a big shot or potentially related to them. Even some of the Washingtons' relatives had tried to get in but were always denied entrance.
How could someone like Tedmond be allowed?
“Are you sure it’s the right person?” Gregory questioned. Despite shivering, he couldn’t help but ask.
“How dare you ask me that?” the person on the other end bellowed. “If I lose my job, you're going to regret it! You’d better let that fellow into the ward, or else!”
Gregory was taken aback by the mention of his boss losing his job. As the call ended, he hurriedly bowed to Tedmond, terrified that he might lose the position he had worked so hard for.
“I’m sorry for not recognizing you, sir,” he apologized. “I’ll walk you to the room,” he added, raising his head to look at Tedmond. “Let’s get—”
“No need,” Tedmond cut him off, disgusted by how quickly Gregory had changed his attitude once he realized Tedmond was a guest. “I can find it myself, just like I intended to do before.”
The phone call had confirmed that everything was real, but Tedmond still needed an explanation for all this.
“Sir!” Gregory called out, but Tedmond ignored him and walked off to find the ward.
The women were equally stunned, unable to speak. They just watched Tedmond leave, clinging to the thin hope that they wouldn’t get fired.
Minutes later, Tedmond’s eyes lingered on the sign above the ward that read Room 509. The door was slightly open, and he could see the window but not the hospital bed. He hesitated, wondering if it was right to enter without knocking.
“You’re here,” a familiar voice said.
Tedmond’s head snapped down to see the little girl he had saved earlier peering up at him. She had changed into different clothes and was holding a teddy bear in her hand.
“My grandpa wants to see you before he…” she trailed off softly. “You have to come in quickly.”
Tedmond nodded and followed her into the ward. The first thing that greeted him was the stare of a middle-aged man in glasses and a frail old man lying on the hospital bed.
“Hello,” Tedmond said, swallowing hard. He had no idea what else to say. “I got a call from you and noticed my account had been credited, and you mentioned I’m the heir of the Washington family. What’s going on?”
The man in glasses bowed slightly. “I’m Thomas, the Washington family’s butler. You’ll get your answers soon.” Gesturing to the old man on the bed, he sighed. “This is Mr. Jeffrey Washington, the head of the family.”
Tedmond stepped closer until he could see the old man clearly, the little girl clutching her grandfather’s hand.
“Hello, Mr. Washington,” Tedmond said politely, controlling his curiosity.
Jeffrey didn’t look well, as if he was about to take his final breath, just as his granddaughter had hinted earlier. Tedmond realized the girl was indeed the Washington family’s granddaughter.
Jeffrey managed a smile. “Ted…” he called weakly. “I’ve finally found my heir. Welcome back, grandson.”
“What’s going on?” Tedmond asked, shooting Thomas a questioning look. “Why is he calling me his grandson?”
His question went unanswered as the life support machine began beeping, and the room filled with tension. The beeping quickened, and Tedmond froze. Thomas immediately sprang into action, pressing a button by the bedside.
“We need a doctor! Now!” Thomas shouted, his voice steady but urgent.
A nurse rushed in moments later, her expression shifting to concern as she assessed the situation. “His condition’s worsening,” she muttered, checking the machines. “We need to stabilize him.”
“Where’s the doctor?” Tedmond asked, glancing between Thomas and the nurse. He felt the weight of the situation crashing down on him—he had no idea what was happening, but it seemed he was now part of something much larger than he had ever expected.
“Dr. Howard is on his way,” the nurse replied quickly, turning back to the patient and adjusting the machines.
Jeffrey’s breathing grew more labored, and the little girl clutched her teddy bear tighter, standing silently by her grandfather's side, her eyes filled with worry.
Moments later, a tall man in a white coat stormed into the room. “Step aside!” he ordered, moving swiftly to the bedside. His hands flew over the equipment, exchanging rapid words with the nurse.
Tedmond stood helpless, watching as the doctor and nurse worked to stabilize Jeffrey. Every second felt like an eternity, and the feeling building in his chest intensified.
Jeffrey’s breathing became increasingly shallow, and the beeping from the machine slowed. Dr. Howard glanced at the nurse, and they exchanged a look that told Tedmond all he needed to know.
Despite their best efforts, it was too late.
The doctor shook his head, his face grim as he checked the old man’s pulse one last time. The room fell silent, except for the soft whimpering of the little girl clutching her grandfather’s hand.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Howard finally said, his voice low. “He’s gone.”
Tedmond stood there, disbelief washing over him. The man who had just called him his grandson—who had somehow linked him to this mysterious fortune—was now dead.
The little girl let out a soft sob, and Thomas closed his eyes, his expression unreadable as he whispered, “Rest in peace, Mr. Washington.”
Tedmond, unsure of what to feel, watched as the nurse gently covered the old man’s body with a sheet. It was surreal—a few minutes ago, Jeffrey Washington had been calling him “grandson,” and now he was gone. The answers Tedmond had hoped for had died with him.
“What now?” Tedmond whispered, his voice barely audible.
Thomas, though visibly shaken, straightened and turned toward Tedmond. “Mr. Washington made his decision before he passed. You are now the heir to the Washington family’s legacy, Tedmond. It’s up to you to carry it forward.”
Tedmond stared at him in shock, the weight of those words crashing down on him. How could this be happening? Just hours ago, he had nothing—and now he was the heir to a family he didn’t even know.
“What… what does that even mean?” Tedmond stammered, the enormity of the situation closing in on him.
“It means,” Thomas replied solemnly, “that everything Mr. Washington owned now belongs to you. The fortune, the businesses, the responsibilities—it’s all yours.”
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 824
He glanced at her in the dim light of the dashboard. "I seriously hope you don’t get yourself killed. Because if the Sokolovs don't finish me for the trespass, Tedmond certainly will.”His gaze turned deadly serious.“If you die on my watch, I’m a dead man before I can even pull my service weapon. He won't just fire me; he’ll erase me from the family tree."Persis didn't smile. She was already pinning back her hair, her movements clinical."Tedmond won't kill you, Jax. He needs you to manage the fallout when I hand him the Sokolovs on a silver platter. Besides," she added, her voice dropping into a dangerous, low hum, "I have no intention of dying. I have too much work to do."***They reached Jaxson’s safe house: a stark, modern loft hidden behind the crumbling facade of an old textile warehouse. Inside, the walls were a hive of monitors displaying scrolling data and high-resolution surveillance of the city’s power players. The location was so deep off the grid that even the Bure
CHAPTER 823
"Then let's get you out of here," Jaxson said, gesturing toward the door. "I’ve got a safe house in the Damon district. No cameras, no Washington trackers. We'll get your disguise ready there."Persis didn't pack a bag. She grabbed her blade, a change of clothes she’d hidden in the library, and her burner phone. As she followed Jaxson out the service door and into the cool night air, she didn't look back. She was running from the man she loved to save the legacy he was trying to protect.As the sedan pulled away, she watched the light in their bedroom window fade. Tedmond would be furious, but for once, she would be more than just a woman for him to protect.*****The black sedan glided toward the massive perimeter gates, its engine barely a whisper in the pre-dawn stillness. Usually, the automated sensors would recognize Jaxson’s FBI-registered vehicle and yield, but as they approached, the heavy iron bars remained stubbornly locked. Instead, the floodlights atop the guard post
CHAPTER 822
She turned her head, her eyes softening as they landed on Tedmond.He was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in the deep, heavy rhythm that only comes after a total expenditure of violence. Even in sleep, his brow remained slightly furrowed, as if he were still trading blows with Moretti guards in his dreams. His eyes were hidden behind closed lids, long lashes casting shadows against high cheekbones. He looked younger when he wasn't carrying the weight of the Washington legacy, but the tension in his hand, curled loosely on the pillow near her hip, reminded her of his defiance.He had been adamant: No.Persis watched him for a long minute, a quiet conflict warring in her chest. She loved his protection, but she couldn't let his fear dictate the survival of their house. The hammer was going to get them both killed if she didn’t provide the scalpel.Carefully, moving with silence, she slipped from under the covers. Her feet made no sound as they hit the plush carpet. She
CHAPTER 821
Tedmond knew one thing for certain: the other families had already heard what happened to the Morettis, and they were already scrambling to save themselves.He intended to deal with them whether they liked it or not. But he wasn’t just going to break them; he was going to dismantle them so thoroughly they wouldn't even know how to react.Tedmond sat in the back of the armored transport, his long legs crossed at the ankles as the neon blur of the city streaked past the reinforced windows. He stared at his hands, still feeling the phantom vibration of the adrenaline that had fueled his demolition of the Moretti sub-level.The report from Albert was already scrolling across his tablet. Early ripples of panic were pulsing through the Van den Bergs and the Sokolovs. They were burning files, scrubbing servers, and liquidating offshore assets. They knew that with the Morettis gone, their shield had shattered."They think they can scurry into the shadows like roaches," Tedmond murmured, h
CHAPTER 820
The red emergency lighting pulsed like a dying heart, casting long, jagged shadows across the room. Tedmond stood in the center of the carnage he had begun, his silhouette massive and terrifying."The extraction team is three minutes out," Tedmond said, his voice a low, vibrating hum that rattled the metal instruments on the trays. He didn't look back at Persis; he knew she was already free."Lorenzo, I suggest you start praying to whatever god still listens to the Morettis.""Kill them!" Lorenzo shrieked, scrambling toward the reinforced door. "Don't just stand there, you idiots! End them now!"The three guards at the door finally snapped out of their shock. They didn't reach for guns; the room was too small, the risk of ricochet too high, and instead drew serrated tactical knives that gleamed crimson in the strobe of the red lights.Tedmond met the first guard halfway.It wasn't a fight; it was a demolition. He caught the man’s wrist, the sound of snapping bone echoing through t
CHAPTER 819
The guards kicked the door open, revealing a room bathed in a sickening, flickering ultraviolet light. In the center stood two high-backed metal chairs equipped with nightmare restraints, cold, clinical, and designed to break a mind from the inside out."Welcome home, Washingtons," Lorenzo whispered as they were shoved toward the center of the dark room. "This is where the past goes to die."The heavy steel door groaned shut with the finality of a tomb, sealing out the distant gala music. The ultraviolet light hummed, turning the gold of Persis’s dress into spilled oil and Tedmond’s blue eyes into something spectral and otherworldly.Two men in white coats stepped from the shadows, their faces hidden behind reflective visors. They moved with robotic efficiency, unfolding a series of thin, silver needles attached to glowing fiber-optic cables."The Millicent Protocol," Lorenzo said, pacing the perimeter like a hungry wolf. "It’s not just about drugs, Tedmond.”“It’s about frequency.
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