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The Return Of The Lame Son In Law. 288; A Dangerous Bargain
Chapter 288: A Dangerous BargainGeorgina Sterling Brown never thought she’d find herself standing outside Sinclair Pete’s opulent estate, clutching her purse tightly as her carefully calculated plan unfolded in her mind. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of the gardenias blooming along the property’s iron gates. Georgina inhaled sharply, composing herself. She needed to look confident, in control, as if this meeting were just another power play in her extensive repertoire. The butler opened the door within moments of her ringing the bell. His expression flickered with surprise before he masked it with practiced politeness. “Miss Brown,” he greeted. “Mr. Pete is in the study. Shall I inform him of your arrival?” “No need,” Georgina replied smoothly, her heels clicking against the marble floors as she stepped inside. “I’ll surprise him.” --- The study was exactly as she remembered—lavish and intimidating, every surface gleaming under the soft glow of crystal chand
The Return Of The Lame Son In Law. 289; it was all Chris brown
Chapter 289: it was all Chris brown Sinclair Pete sat in his study, the heavy drapes drawn to block out the evening sun. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the mahogany desk, the wheels of his mind spinning faster than they had in years. The situation was delicate. Georgina's request had forced him to act decisively, but he knew he couldn’t risk exposing himself. To topple Chris Brown, Pete would need to utilize someone who had both a personal vendetta and a history with the Black Summit Syndicate. That someone was James Paul, the disgraced former CEO of Clear Bank. Pete had kept tabs on James since his fall from grace. The man was still bitter, still burning with the need for revenge against those he believed had wronged him. His downfall had been spectacular. A year ago, James had been exposed for running an illegal money-laundering operation under the guise of legitimate banking practices. The authorities had come down hard on him, not just revoking his licenses but e
The Return Of The Lame Son In Law. 290, A Timely warning
Chapter 290: A Timely WarningThe dim glow of the chandelier illuminated the grand living room of Mr. Pete’s mansion, where he and Georgina sat in high spirits. Mr. Pete, with a rare smile on his face, poured himself a glass of aged wine and offered one to Georgina, who accepted it with an air of satisfaction. “Finally,” Mr. Pete said, raising his glass, “we have a plan that will bring Chris to his knees. James Paul’s anger is a weapon we can easily wield.” Georgina’s lips curled into a confident smirk. “All it took was a nudge in the right direction. Now, Chris will learn what it means to cross me.” Mr. Pete leaned back in his chair, savoring the moment. “It’s only a matter of time before James Paul makes his move. He’s relentless when it comes to revenge. Chris won’t see it coming.” Unbeknownst to them, Sinclair Pete had arrived home earlier than expected. She was exhausted from a long day at work and only wanted to relax in the peace of her room. As she ascended the sta
The Return Of The Lame Son In Law. 291; unveiling secrets
Chapter 291: Unveiling Secret’sChris had chosen to meet Sinclair Pete at a quiet café in the heart of the city. The venue was small and unassuming, with dim lighting and soft jazz playing in the background. It wasn’t the kind of place where anyone would expect to see him, which made it the perfect spot for a discreet conversation. He arrived early, his gaze scanning the tables until he found one tucked in a corner near the window. Sitting down, he ordered a coffee and leaned back in his chair, his mind racing with questions. Sinclair had insisted on meeting him, claiming she had information that couldn’t wait. When she walked in, the faint chime of the café door signaled her arrival. Dressed in a fitted cream blouse and a pencil skirt that accentuated her figure, Sinclair exuded confidence. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she carried herself with an air of purpose. Chris couldn’t help but notice how heads turned as she walked by. “Chris,” she greeted him wi
The Return Of The Lame Son In Law. 293; calculated moves
Chapter 292: Calculated MovesChris sat in the café long after Sinclair had left, replaying every detail of their conversation in his mind. The pieces were finally coming together, but he knew this was just the tip of the iceberg. The involvement of Mr. Pete with Georgina wasn’t surprising, but the mention of Don Wilson and money hinted at a larger conspiracy. If they had ties to a group like the Black Summit Syndicate—a name Chris was familiar with from his deeper investigations—then things were far more dangerous than he’d anticipated. Chris pulled out his phone and opened his secure messaging app. He had a contact who could help—David Lang, a man with extensive knowledge of underground networks and syndicates. David wasn’t the type to be found in broad daylight or flashy locations. He operated in the shadows, much like the organizations he monitored. Message to David Lang:Need intel on a group called the Black Summit Syndicate. It’s urgent. Where can we meet?”The reply came w
The Return Of The Lame Son In Law. 294; The Elder’s Judgment
Chapter 293: The Elders’ JudgementJames Paul walked through the dense fog that clung to the narrow, cobbled path leading to the Council Chamber. His heart pounded in his chest, though he tried to appear calm. This was his chance to gain favor with the unseen elders, the ruling body that governed the shadowy operations of the Black Summit Syndicate. He had information—damning details about Chris Brown. If he played his cards right, he could secure his position within the syndicate and perhaps even climb higher. The Council Chamber loomed ahead, its grand entrance framed by massive iron doors etched with cryptic symbols. Two guards flanked the entrance, their faces concealed by dark masks. They nodded silently, pushing the doors open to reveal the dimly lit interior. The room was vast and shadowed, with the faint glow of torches casting flickering light on the high, vaulted ceiling. A semi-circular table stood at the center, shrouded in mist. Behind it sat the elders—six figures
The Return Of The Lame Son In Law. 294; setting the trap
Chapter 294: Setting the TrapChris sat in the dim light of his study, the faint glow of his laptop illuminating his face. The events of the past days had been intense, but he had no time to rest. The information Sinclair Pete had provided was a game changer, but it needed careful handling. He was about to face one of the most dangerous factions yet—the Black Summit Syndicate—and he knew one misstep could cost him everything. He leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. Sinclair had mentioned a key figure within the syndicate, a man who acted as the contact for external dealings. This man was the linchpin that could either connect Chris to the organization’s inner workings or bring him down. Chris needed to meet him, but he wouldn’t wait for an invitation. Instead, he would make the first move. ---Chris began his plan by digging deeper into the syndicate’s activities. Using his network of contacts—many of whom owed him favors from his earlier work in dismantling Georgina’s sch
The Return Of The Lame Son In Law. 295; shadow of unknown
Chapter 295: Shadows of the UnknownThe night was heavy with a brooding silence, the kind that seemed to press down on everything and amplify the smallest of sounds. Chris stood at the edge of a dimly lit parking lot, the faint glow of a nearby streetlamp casting long shadows across his face. He adjusted the collar of his coat, his eyes scanning the lot for any signs of movement. Marcus had set the meeting for midnight, but Chris had arrived early. It was a habit he had learned long ago—always be the first to the battlefield. He leaned against a rusted metal railing, his body still but his mind sharp, calculating. The location Marcus chose was unusual: an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. The building loomed in the darkness, its broken windows like hollow eyes staring into the void. The air smelled faintly of oil and decay, a reminder of the factory’s long-forgotten purpose. Chris checked his watch. 11:47 PM. He had thirteen minutes to prepare. ---Inside the fac
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360; The Breaking Point
Chapter 360: The Breaking Point It’s the next day after Chris presented himself to the world in his full glory, the media has carried the news both far and near and the Preston’s were still in shock of the revelation. The Preston boardroom was unusually quiet that morning. Sunlight filtered through the tall glass windows, casting golden stripes across the dark mahogany table. The chairs were all filled—executives, advisors, partners from subsidiaries. But one seat at the head of the table remained empty. Stephany’s seat. Eleanor sat in her usual place, fingers steepled, a slight crease in her brow. She glanced at her watch again. Still no word. Still no daughter. Still no leadership. It had been two days since the gala. Two days since the world discovered that Chris Brown—the quiet son-in-law they mocked—was actually the president of MTD and the force behind Sterling Heritage. Two days since Stephany had vanished. “She’s taking time to think,” Eleanor said qui
359: Stephany’s Spiral
Chapter 359: Stephany’s Spiral Stephnay stepped our. And Chris followed her. The air outside the ballroom was colder than it should’ve been. Stephany’s heels clicked furiously against the marble as she stormed down the corridor, the silk of her gown swishing violently behind her. Her breath came in shallow bursts, not from exertion, but from the ache building in her chest, from the burn in her throat she couldn’t swallow. Everyone had lied to her. Everyone. Her father… who paraded around like he was the reason for the deal, when he was nothing more than a shadow. Her mother… who, for all her sharpness, had encouraged her to chase a stranger, unaware he was already sleeping in her daughter’s bed. Sandra… her friend, her confidante, who had stood by and said nothing while Stephany wept and doubted and begged. And Chris. Chris. The man she insulted. Defended. Hated. Loved. The man who, it turned out, had been ten steps ahead of her the entire time. She pushed
358; after the lights
Chapter 359: After the Lights The ballroom lights dimmed slowly, the last echoes of applause fading into the glittering hush of evening elegance. The crowd had dispersed into small clusters some lingering around the champagne bar, others whispering in stunned awe near the media walls. The air was thick with disbelief, admiration… and a new respect that hadn’t been there before. Chris Brown stepped off the stage like a man who had just laid his past to rest. His face was composed. His shoulders straight. But inside? A storm raged. He didn’t look for her in the crowd. He didn’t need to. He felt her. Stephany. And she was coming. Each step she took echoed like a countdown. He turned slowly to face her, meeting her eyes across the polished marble floor, under chandeliers that suddenly seemed too bright. Her heels clicked to a stop three feet in front of him. She didn’t speak at first. Didn’t blink. She just looked at him like she was seeing a ghost. No… like she was seei
357 the speech
Chapter 358: The Speech The ballroom, moments before electric with noise, now pulsed with stunned silence. The man everyone had ignored, mocked, and dismissed… stood before them. No longer in the shadows. No longer “just a son-in-law.” Chris Brown. The President of MTD Enterprises.If not because Sandra herself introduced him, no one would believe he was the owner of Sterling, the one calling the shots. The man who had, without the Preston name, without favors or inheritance, built a corporate empire that now stood at the helm of Preston Holdings’ salvation. He stepped up to the stage, his black tux catching the soft gold light of the chandeliers above. Calm, composed, magnetic. He didn’t need a grand entrance. He was the moment. The microphone felt cool in his hand as he brought it close. “Good evening,” he began, his voice smooth, quiet, but undeniably strong. The crowd leaned in. “I’ll keep this brief,” he continued. “I know the wine is flowing, and so
356; president on a bike
Chapter 356: The President on a Bike The Grand New York Ballroom shimmered with opulence. Glittering chandeliers hung like frozen stars above the gold-accented floor. Guests milled about in tuxedos and flowing gowns, laughter and polite applause filling the space as media crews tried to capture every angle. Business moguls, celebrities, and dignitaries gathered, sipping champagne and posing for press photos beneath the towering banners that read: “The New Preston Empire – Gala of Legacy and Innovation.” Charles Preston stood front and center, basking in the glow of attention. His tailored white suit gleamed under the lights, and he wore a practiced smile that hadn’t wavered since the event began. Every reporter, every business associate—he greeted them all with open arms and exaggerated humility. “I just did what any visionary would do,” Charles said during an interview, brushing invisible lint off his shoulder. “The expansion was necessary. And thanks to our trusted par
355; a night of glass And gold
Chapter 355: A night of glass and gold. Add her mother pushes her to welcome him The Grand New York Ballroom shimmered like a crown jewel in the heart of Manhattan. Crystal chandeliers dripped light onto mirrored floors, casting glittering illusions across a sea of tuxedos and couture gowns. The air was thick with cologne, champagne, and the sharp undercurrent of ambition. It was a night carved out for legends. And Charles Preston was ready to claim it. "Smile, Mr. Preston!" "Over here, Charles!" "The face behind Preston’s comeback!" Charles grinned wide, adjusting his cufflinks as camera flashes burst in succession. Reporters flanked the red carpet, microphones stretched forward like spears as he paused just long enough for the spotlight to settle comfortably on him. “Yes,” he said with polished ease, “we’re very proud of the progress Preston Holdings has made this year. Tonight is about celebrating that growth—and the vision that brought us here.”
354: Behind the Velvet curtain
Chapter 354: Behind the Velvet Curtain The night shimmered like a stage awaiting its lead actor. Inside the Grand Ballroom at the Empire Crown Hotel, chandeliers sparkled above a sea of elegantly dressed guests. Velvet drapes framed tall windows, and gold, edged mirrors gave the illusion of endless luxury. A symphony quartet played in the background, their music crisp, purposeful like the gala itself. This wasn't just a party. It was war with lace gloves and champagne. And behind the scenes, the generals were preparing. Connor Shaw, head of the Metropolitan Police and Chris’s long, time ally, stood in the back service corridor of the hotel, earpiece in, tablet in hand. His eyes weren’t on the stage. They were on security feeds. “I want eyes on every major entrance,” he said into the comms. “Check for duplicates of the guest list, especially near the back elevators. Nothing gets past us tonight.” He wasn’t here in uniform. He was dressed in a black tailored suit
353; The interruption
Chapter 353: The Interruption The city glowed with twilight as the sun bowed behind glass towers and flashing billboards, preparing to hand the stage over to a night of prestige, power, and unveiling. The Preston Expansion Gala was just hours away, and every detail had been scrutinized to perfection—down to the shimmer of champagne and the alignment of name cards. But Chris never made it to the venue. Not yet. He had left the penthouse in his tailored suit, calm and resolved, his presence a storm wrapped in elegance. The drive his most trusted escort had been instructed to take the back route, avoiding media hotspots. It was supposed to be quiet. Controlled. But power always attracts chaos. And Chris never saw it coming. As the car approached an underpass just twenty minutes from the gala hall, a black SUV swerved from nowhere, cutting them off. Before the driver could react, another vehicle blocked them from behind. Then darkness. Metal clashed. Tires screeched. Doors fl
352: the call of blood
Chapter 352: The Call of Blood The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of Chris's penthouse office, casting elongated shadows across the polished marble floor. He stood by the window, gazing out at the city skyline, his reflection a ghostly overlay against the bustling world beyond. The news had broken earlier that day: the elusive president of MTD was also the owner of Sterling Heritage and would be making a public appearance at the Preston gala. His phone buzzed on the desk behind him, a persistent vibration that refused to be ignored. Chris turned slowly, his eyes narrowing as he saw the caller ID: "Grandpa Brown." A sigh escaped his lips, heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tensions. He picked up the phone, the device cool against his palm, and answered with a measured tone. "Grandpa." The voice on the other end was sharp, tinged with a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Christopher, care to explain why I had to find out from the p
