CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

RICHARD'S POV

The charred remains of the documents haunted me as I stared at Gregory, his smug grin etched into my mind like a scar that won’t heal. I clenched my fists, feeling the heat rise to my face.

"I have the court's backing," I insisted, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.

That was when Gregory stopped and turned back, his laughter filling the room, echoing off the walls like the ghosts of my lost hopes.

"Oh, Richard, you poor deluded fool. The judge who handled your case is dead. What proof do you have now? Ashes?"

He chuckled again, his eyes gleaming with condescension. I could almost see the ghosts of my dreams, the ones I'd built on acquiring the company, slipping away. "You need to step down, Gregory. Or I'll bring the police into this."

His laughter stopped abruptly. He leaned forward, his face inches from mine, his breath hot and reeking of whiskey. "You think the police will help you? They're in my pocket, every last one of them. Do yoursel
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