Chapter 4: Becoming Harry Winstone

The sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom glided to a halt in front of the Sea Pavilion, its polished surface reflecting the warm lights from the grand entrance. Harry, still weary from the emotional turmoil of the past few days, stepped out with Richard following closely behind. The weight of his new responsibilities as the Winstone heir settled heavily on his shoulders, yet he stood tall, his resolve unshaken.

"Mr. Winstone, everything is set for tonight," Richard began, his voice steady. "All the key affiliates of the Winstone family are here to show their respect. It's important you make a good impression."

Harry nodded absently, his thoughts still lingering on Celia, who lay recovering in the hospital. "I know, Richard. I’ll do what’s necessary."

As they made their way towards the entrance, Harry’s attention was abruptly drawn to a familiar voice, dripping with disdain.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the infamous Harry Winstone!” Amelia's voice rang out, sharp and mocking.

Harry’s steps faltered for a moment before he turned to see Amelia, looking as poised and beautiful as ever, but her expression twisted with contempt. Beside her stood Adam Morland, his face still sporting the faint bruises from their last encounter, but the smirk on his lips was intact.

“What do you want, Amelia?” Harry asked calmly, his voice betraying none of the turmoil he felt inside.

“What do I want?” she sneered, stepping closer. “I want you to stop following me around like a desperate dog. Can’t you get it through your thick skull that we’re over? You’re nothing but a pathetic pest who can’t move on.”

Richard bristled at her words, his fists clenching. “Mr. Winstone, may I—”

Harry lifted a hand, silencing him. “It’s fine, Richard.” He turned back to Amelia, his eyes steady and unwavering. “I’m not here for you, Amelia. In fact, I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Oh, really?” Amelia scoffed. “You think I’d believe that? Renting a fancy car, hiring a chauffeur, and showing up here all dressed up—pathetic.” She glanced at Adam, who chuckled along with her, then turned back to Harry. “Who do you think you’re fooling?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his expression calm. “Believe whatever you want, Amelia. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Amelia’s face flushed with anger. “Of course, it doesn’t. Because you know you can’t compete with Adam here.” She linked her arm with Adam’s and leaned in closer to him. “He’s everything you’re not—successful, rich, and generous. He even offered you money once, remember? So I could be with a real man.”

Adam grinned, his eyes cold. “That’s right. I thought I’d give you a handout. You know, as a charity case.”

Harry clenched his jaw, the muscle in his cheek twitching as he fought to keep his composure. “Is that what you call it?” He looked directly at Amelia, his eyes filled with disappointment. “You’ve downgraded yourself, Amelia. I never thought you’d choose someone like him.”

The smirk vanished from Amelia’s face, replaced by a flash of uncertainty. “What are you talking about?”

Harry ignored her, turning his attention to Adam. “And you,” he said, his voice low and threatening, “you’ve already felt a fraction of what I can do. Don’t push me further.”

Adam stiffened, his bravado faltering for a moment before he recovered, sneering. “Big words from a nobody. You think you scare me?”

A slow, sinister smile spread across Harry’s face. “You have no idea what’s coming your way, Adam. You think your family’s wealth and influence can protect you? Let me assure you, it won’t.”

Amelia glanced between the two men, suddenly uneasy. “Harry, what are you talking about?”

Harry’s eyes never left Adam’s. “I’m talking about the consequences of underestimating me. The pain you’re about to feel, Adam, is nothing compared to what you’ve inflicted on others. I’ll make sure you regret every single mistake.”

Adam tried to laugh, but it came out hollow. “You’re bluffing.”

Harry stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Try me.”

There was a long, tense silence. Amelia, her confidence shaken, took a step back, her grip on Adam’s arm tightening. “Harry, just leave us alone. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

“Am I?” Harry asked, his eyes boring into hers. “Or are you finally seeing me for who I really am?”

Richard, who had been silently watching the exchange, stepped forward. “Mr. Winstone, we should go inside. The guests are waiting.”

Harry nodded, his gaze still locked on Adam. “You should go too, Adam. Enjoy your evening while you still can.”

Adam swallowed hard, his face pale. “You don’t scare me, Winstone.”

Harry’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “You should be.”

With that, he turned away, gesturing for Richard to follow. As they made their way inside, the heavy door of the Sea Pavilion closing behind them, Amelia and Adam were left standing outside, their confident facade crumbling under the weight of Harry’s ominous words.

The grand interior of the Sea Pavilion greeted Harry with its opulent decor and soft lighting. Waitstaff in crisp uniforms bowed respectfully as they passed, their eyes filled with curiosity and awe. It was clear that they had been briefed about his identity, and the deference they showed made Harry slightly uncomfortable.

Richard led him through the lavish foyer, his tone professional as he spoke. “Mr. Winstone, all the heads of the family’s affiliates are gathered in the presidential dining room. They’ve been waiting to formally meet you.”

Harry nodded, trying to push the earlier confrontation out of his mind. “Right. Let’s get this over with.”

As they approached the grand doors of the dining room, they swung open, revealing a group of distinguished men and women seated around a long table. Conversations hushed, and all eyes turned to Harry.

Richard stepped forward, his voice carrying the authority of his position. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Harry Winstone, heir to the Winstone family.”

There was a moment of silence, and then the room erupted in applause. Harry, feeling the weight of their expectations, took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“Thank you all for coming,” he began, his voice steady. “I know this is unexpected, and I’m still coming to terms with everything myself. But I promise you, I will do everything in my power to live up to the Winstone name.”

Polite nods and murmurs of approval met his words, but Harry could sense the scrutiny in their gazes. They were assessing him, judging his worth. He held his head high, refusing to let them see any uncertainty.

Richard gestured to the head of the table. “Please, Mr. Winstone, take your seat.”

Harry did so, the eyes of the room still on him. As the dinner began, with fine wine and exquisite dishes being served, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. The beginning of a life he hadn’t asked for but would now have to embrace.

He glanced around the room, the faces of the powerful men and women who now looked to him for leadership. He knew that every move he made would be watched, every decision scrutinized. But as he raised his glass in a silent toast to himself, he felt a newfound resolve harden within him.

He would show them. Show them all who Harry Winstone truly was. And he would start with Adam Morland.