RICHARD'S POVI pulled up outside the police station, a sense of irritation already gnawing at me. Two days since the verdict, and now here I was—about to face my brothers. The same brothers who’d tried to take everything from me. I couldn’t help but wonder how much they had really changed after spending time in a cell.As I walked in, the sight of them was… pathetic. They looked like shadows of themselves—skinny, pale, and desperate. Good. Maybe they finally understood the consequences of their actions."Richard," one of them croaked, barely able to look me in the eye. "Thank you for getting us out."I raised an eyebrow. "Thank me? You should be thanking the legal system for having loopholes. I wouldn’t have lifted a damn finger for either of you."They glanced at each other, clearly embarrassed, before turning their pleading eyes back to me. "Please," the older one, Jonathan, began. "We’re still your brothers. We share the same father, Richard."I had to laugh at that. "Oh, now you
The next day, standing at the entrance of my company’s building, I watched as Jonathan and William dragged their feet toward the restrooms. Their faces were twisted in disgust, and I had to suppress a laugh. Honestly, this was a sight I never thought I’d see—my brothers about to scrub toilets like common janitors. Life had a way of bringing things full circle. I walked over to them, the grin on my face probably giving away just how much I was enjoying this. "Morning, gentlemen," I called out cheerily. They both shot me the same death glare, but I ignored it. They weren’t in any position to intimidate me anymore. They were the ones who needed to grovel now. William was the first to speak, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You really want us to do this? Clean your precious company toilets?" I shrugged, pretending to think about it. "Well, it’s either this or I keep everything, and you two can go back to being broke. Your choice." Jonathan muttered something under his breath, proba
RICHARD’S POV I walked into the house, tossing my keys onto the table, and immediately felt something was off. The air felt too stiff, too tense. Amelia was sitting on the couch, her face pale, eyes darting toward the kitchen. That’s when I noticed her grandmother. Great. Just what I needed. She was sitting there, her posture all prim and proper like she was royalty or something. Amelia’s grandmother was one of those people who always managed to stir up trouble whenever she showed up. I could already tell she wasn’t here for a friendly visit. “Richard,” she said, standing up with that fake smile of hers plastered on her face. “You’re home.” I glanced at Amelia, and she gave me a helpless look, silently begging me not to blow up. I sighed. “Yeah, I’m home. What’s this about?” Her grandmother’s smile widened, but there was something sinister about it. “Well, as you know, you’re married to my darling Amelia now, and with marriage comes responsibility.” I crossed my arms, lea
RICHARD’S POV I was finally getting some peace and quiet. Amelia had gone out to run errands, and I had the house to myself. I leaned back on the couch, eyes half-closed, trying to enjoy the silence. It wasn’t long before my phone buzzed on the coffee table, breaking the calm. I grabbed it, already sensing some drama on the horizon. Sure enough, it was one of the guards I’d assigned to keep an eye on my brothers. “Yeah?” I answered, not bothering with any formalities. The guard's voice was steady, like he was reporting something routine, but I knew better. “Sir, I thought you’d want to know—your brothers, they’re not cleaning the toilets themselves.” I sat up a little straighter, feeling my annoyance bubble up. “What do you mean they’re not cleaning?” “They’ve hired staff to do it,” the guard continued. “They’ve been showing up to the bathrooms, pretending to scrub things down, but it’s all an act. They walk in after the hired help’s already finished the job.” I couldn’t help bu
RICHARD’S POVI was sitting at my desk, staring at my laptop, waiting for the inevitable knock on the door. The message from Jonathan and William had come through an hour ago—We’ve finished cleaning. We’re coming for our money. Of course, they didn’t know I had been two steps ahead of them the entire time. Cleaning toilets? Yeah, right.I tapped my fingers on the desk, the amusement already building inside me.The door finally swung open, and in they strutted—Jonathan first, chest puffed out like he’d actually accomplished something. William was right behind him, looking smug, like they’d already won some battle they didn’t even deserve to fight.“Richard,” Jonathan greeted me with a grin that made me want to punch him. “We did it. We cleaned those damn toilets like you asked.”I leaned back in my chair, a small smile playing on my lips. “You don’t say.”“Yeah,” William chimed in, “we held up our end of the deal. Now, about the money and the company shares...” His voice trailed off, h
RICHARD’S POVI stepped into the house, already smelling something delicious. Amelia was in the kitchen, her back to me, humming softly while stirring something in a pot. The sound of home. Peace. After the kind of day I’d had, this was exactly what I needed.“Something smells amazing,” I said, walking up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist.She laughed softly, leaning back into me. “It’s just pasta. Nothing special.”“Pasta is always special when you make it,” I murmured against her neck, breathing in her scent.Before she could respond, my phone rang. I sighed, pulling it from my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number, but something told me to answer it.“Richard,” I answered, already annoyed.“Sir, there’s a fire at your father’s company!” a panicked voice said from the other end.I froze. A fire?“What the hell did you just say?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.“There’s a fire, sir! The firefighters are on their way, but it’s spreading fast!”I didn’t even respond. I
RICHARD'S POVThe heat from the fire still lingered in the air, and all I could do was stand there, trying to make sense of it all. The smell of smoke, the flashing lights, and the sound of sirens were everywhere, but I felt numb. One of the firefighters had just told me they found a body inside, and my heart sank. I hoped—no, I prayed—it wasn’t someone I knew. Maybe it was one of the staff or some stranger who got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.As they wheeled the body out, one of the firefighters, his face grim, stepped toward me. "He didn't burn... the smoke got him," he said, his voice flat, as if he’d said this a hundred times before.I swallowed, forcing myself to ask, "Who is it?" My voice didn’t even sound like mine. It was shaky, almost foreign.The firefighter looked hesitant. "We need you to identify him."They pulled back the sheet, and everything in me stopped. Jonathan. It was Jonathan. My stepbrother, pale as death, eyes closed as if he was sleeping. But h
Richard’s POVSitting on the couch, I tried to make sense of it all. I’d told Amelia everything, from Jonathan’s death to William’s pitiful breakdown. I thought by saying it out loud, maybe it would feel more real. But it didn’t. It just felt... heavy.“Richard, you can’t blame yourself for this,” Amelia said, sitting beside me. She reached over, her hand resting on my arm. “Your brothers brought this on themselves.”“I know,” I said, sighing. “But knowing it doesn’t make it any easier.”She shook her head softly. “You’ve done more than enough to clean up their mess. This... this is on them. You couldn’t have changed anything.”“I could’ve seen this coming,” I muttered. “I should’ve seen it coming.”Amelia frowned. “You couldn’t have known Jonathan would be stupid enough to—”My phone buzzed in my pocket, interrupting her. The screen flashed with an unknown number. I raised an eyebrow, then answered.“Richard speaking.”“Mr. Richard, this is Detective Wallace. I need you to come down