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2024-10-29 19:42:56Chapter One. The living in son in law
Stephany strode into the house, her laughter mingling with the voices of her friends, filling the room with lively energy. Her high heels clicked against the polished wooden floor as she led the way, a few shopping bags swinging from her arms. Her friends, chattering animatedly, followed her into the living room. "Chris, we're back!" Stephany called out, her tone cheerful but commanding. Her eyes swept across the room, quickly zeroing in on the mop and bucket still standing in the corner, a small puddle of water beside them. The floor, far from the gleaming surface it was meant to be, bore streaks and patches of dirt. Chris, who had been in the kitchen making tea, emerged at the sound of her voice. He froze for a moment, the teapot in his hands, as he caught sight of Stephany's disapproving gaze. He knew what was coming. Chris, the son in law of the of the illustrious Preston family, had once been a promising figure in the business world. As the first grand son of the Brown’s he was naturally made the manager of the Brown Conglomerate limited and lived an extravagant life. However, two years ago, his world had crumbled when he was framed for embezzling twenty million dollars from the Browns' company. Despite his desperate attempts to explain that he had used the money to invest in a promising project, the Browns refused to believe him. The accusations of theft for personal gain flew thick and fast, orchestrated by his aunt, Georgina who had long harbored ill will towards him for being in that position. The scandal led to his denouncement and separation from the company and subsequently, the family. Since then, Chris had been living with the Prestons as a live-in son-in-law. His tarnished reputation and a limping leg from an old injury prevented him from finding work. As a result, his days were filled with household chores, a far cry from his former life. "Chris," Stephany began, her voice cutting through the chatter, "didn't I ask you to finish mopping the floor before I got back?" Chris set the teapot down gently, his eyes lowering to the floor. "Yes, you did. I was just about to—" "Just about to?" Stephany interrupted, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice. "You know how important it is to keep this place clean, especially when we have guests coming over." Her friends exchanged awkward glances but said nothing, clearly used to witnessing these exchanges. Stephany's role in the household was clear; she managed everything, and Chris, given his circumstances, was expected to contribute by taking on various chores. Chris clenched his jaw, the familiar frustration bubbling up inside him, but he forced it down. He had learned long ago that complaining or making excuses would only make things worse and had learn to accept his fate. This was his responsibility now, a way to show his appreciation and earn his keep. "You’re right honey," he said quietly, moving towards the mop. "I'll finish it right now." "You'd better," she replied, her tone softening just a fraction as she turned back to her friends. "It's just so frustrating when things aren't done properly." Chris's ears burned with embarrassment, but he kept his focus on the task at hand. He dunked the mop into the bucket, wringing it out with quick, practiced motions. The living room buzzed with conversation again as Stephany and her friends settled onto the couch, their shopping bags rustling as they began to unpack their latest finds. As he worked, Chris could hear snippets of their discussion—new dresses, a restaurant they planned to visit, a funny story from work. It was a world he was part of, yet somehow always on the periphery. He finished mopping the floor, making sure every inch was spotless this time, then quietly put the cleaning supplies away. When he returned to the kitchen, Stephany's voice called out again, this time more gently. "Chris, could you bring us some tea, please?" "Of course," he replied, busying himself with the cups and saucers. As he carried the tray into the living room, he couldn't help but steal a glance at Stephany. Her stern expression had softened into a smile as she chatted with her friends, the earlier tension seemingly forgotten. Chris placed the tray on the coffee table and began pouring the tea, careful not to spill a drop. Stephany looked up at him, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment. "Thank you," she said, and though her voice was still firm, there was a hint of appreciation there. Chris nodded, offering a small smile in return. It wasn't much, but it was enough to remind him why he stayed, why he continued to shoulder these responsibilities. This was his place, his role, and despite the challenges, he was determined to fulfill it because he loved his wife.
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322: The web of shadows
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322; Into the Lion’s den
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321; lines inthe sand
Chapter 320: Lines in the Sand The note clutched in Chris’s hand crumpled slightly as he stood on the porch, the cool night air biting against his skin. He stared at the words again—simple but direct. “You should have stayed in your small office job. The Syndicate always collects its debts.”Chris let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing. Whoever had left the note wanted him rattled, but all it did was strengthen his resolve. He glanced at the dagger pinning it to the door—a cheap intimidation tactic. They were watching. They wanted him to know they were close. Without a word, Chris pulled the dagger free and slid it into his pocket. He folded the note, tucked it inside his jacket, and walked into the house, careful to keep his expression calm. Chris dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and poured himself a glass of water. His muscles were still humming from the trial earlier, a subtle reminder of the power now flowing within him. It wasn’t overwhelming anymore; it was
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Chapter 320; Echoes of the Syndicate
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318; The Web
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318; Shadow cults call
Chapter 317: The Shadow Cult’s Call Chris walked briskly through the darkened streets, his mind replaying the events at Ravenwood. His encounter with Armand Leto and the Syndicate’s inner circle had only intensified the stakes. For years, he had worked in the shadows, balancing his roles as a cultivator, a husband, and now, an unsuspecting adversary to one of the region’s most powerful clandestine organizations. But tonight, something lingered—a pull, faint but undeniable. It began as a whisper at the edge of his senses, a low hum vibrating in his chest. Chris stopped under a streetlamp, his breath visible in the chilly night air. He focused inward, reaching into the depths of his cultivation core. There it was again, the summons. A message from the Shadow Cult. The cult rarely called its members directly, preferring to operate in a web of subtlety and misdirection. When a summons came, it meant only one thing—something significant was unfolding. Chris took a dee
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317; Flashback
Chapter 317; the Flashback Chris had barely settled into his office when the door burst open. Georgina stormed in, her face a storm cloud of fury. He leaned back in his chair, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as they locked onto hers. “Good morning to you too, Georgina,” he said dryly. “Cut the pleasantries,” she snapped, slamming a folder onto his desk. “You’ve been meddling, haven’t you?” Chris glanced at the folder but didn’t bother opening it. “You’ll have to be more specific. I tend to be involved in a lot of things.” Her nostrils flared, and she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. “Don’t play coy with me. I know you’ve been digging into Sterling Horizon. Do you think you can outmaneuver me?” Chris smirked, folding his hands on his desk. “If I wanted to outmaneuver you, Georgina, you wouldn’t even see it coming.” Her eyes blazed with anger, and for a moment, she seemed to be holding herself back. Then she leaned over his desk, her voice dripping w