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The Slumdog Billionaire 88. Are You Cheating On My Friend ?
Chapter Eighty EightHenry woke up early, quietly slipping out of bed, careful not to wake Jasmine. He had a task ahead of him that morning, and he wanted to get it done before anyone in the household, especially Mrs. Woods, could question his intentions.Pulling on a simple shirt and jeans, Henry headed outside to his bike. He kicked it to life, the soft hum breaking the early morning silence as he set off toward the car dealership. The morning air was cool against his face, and he felt a certain sense of freedom as he navigated the streets, his mind focused on the task at hand. Jasper’s demands were laughable, but he was determined to handle it calmly, even if it meant buying a car he knew Jasper would inevitably mistreat.As Henry approached the Mercedes Benz dealership, he noticed a group of staff from the nearby G-Wagon dealership peering at him from the entrance, their faces lighting up with recognition. They exchanged hurried whispers before five of them stepped forward, hurr
The Slumdog Billionaire 89. The Senators’s Mistress
Chapter Eighty Nine Henry froze as Damon’s wife, her eyes wide with panic, subtly signaled him to stay quiet, pressing a finger to her lips. He immediately recognized the man beside her—a senator, known for his political influence and power. Henry, realizing the sensitivity of the situation, decided against causing a public scene, especially one involving a powerful figure and a matter that wasn’t his direct business.“Who’s this?” the senator asked, glancing at Henry with mild curiosity.“Oh, he’s just an old schoolmate,” Damon’s wife replied quickly, her voice smooth but tense, her smile tight.The senator gave Henry an amused look and extended his hand for a firm handshake. As he pulled his hand back, he dropped a small bundle of cash—ten wads of hundred-dollar bills, a generous sum—into Henry’s hand. “Take this,” the senator said, his tone filled with casual authority, “and take good care of yourself.”Henry looked down at the money, his face impassive. He knew this was meant a
The Slumdog Billionaire 90. The Accident
Chapter Ninety Henry placed a hand on Damon’s shoulder, his voice calm and gentle. “Listen, Damon, I know this is painful. But before you make any decisions, take some time to think. Don’t let emotions push you into doing something you might regret.”Damon shook his head, still staring at the floor, his mind clearly racing with disbelief and hurt. “I can’t believe she would do this to me, Henry,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “Especially now, when she’s… four months pregnant. I thought we were building a family.”Henry sighed, feeling the weight of his friend’s heartbreak. “I know, Damon. And that’s why you need to be careful. Make sure to protect yourself legally. If she’s capable of betrayal, there’s a chance she might try to leave with more than just her pride.” He paused, giving Damon a meaningful look. “Secure your assets, your money—everything. That way, if things take a turn, you’re prepared.”Damon nodded slowly, absorbing the advice, though he still looked dazed. “It’s
The Slumdog Billionaire 91. The Gambling Father Inlaw
Chapter Ninety One As the rip spread across the painting, Mr. Woods gasped, his face paling as he realized the damage he’d just caused. For a moment, he stared at the ruined canvas in stunned silence, his mouth hanging open in shock. But just as Henry thought his father-in-law might take responsibility for what had happened, Mr. Woods turned to him, his expression quickly shifting from shock to accusation.“This is your fault!” he spat, pointing his finger at Henry. “I told you to keep quiet and stand aside. If you hadn’t distracted me with your constant interference, this wouldn’t have happened!”Henry felt a flicker of anger. He had been doing exactly as he was told, standing silently, watching as his father-in-law waved that cane around with reckless abandon. But now, instead of admitting his own mistake, Mr. Woods was casting the blame on him. Henry opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say a word, the art gallery manager rushed over, his face a mixture of concern and
The Slumdog Billionaire 92. The Magical Ring
Chapter Ninety Two Henry barely had a chance to argue with the security guards who had gathered around him, their expressions tense and expectant, waiting for his confession. “Gentlemen, you have the wrong person!” Henry protested, trying to keep his voice calm but firm. “I didn’t destroy the painting. Mr. Woods was the one who—” One of the guards interrupted him, shaking his head. “Sir, we need you to cooperate. The gallery manager and several witnesses have stated that you were involved.” Henry’s frustration boiled over. But just as he was about to defend himself, his eyes drifted to the painting, now abandoned on the floor. His anger faded, replaced by an odd sense of wonder. There was something strangely captivating about the artwork, even with the fresh tear marring its beauty. Ignoring the murmurs of the guards, Henry crouched down, his hand reaching out as if on instinct. He gently lifted the edge of the canvas, examining the fine details up close. The brushstrokes were
The Slumdog Billionaire 93. 200,000$ Dollars
Chapter Ninety Three Henry felt the weight of the manager’s gaze, a piercing suspicion that seemed to linger on his every move. He clenched his fist around the ring, aware that any sudden gesture could draw unwanted attention to it. The last thing he needed was trouble, especially with the strange power he sensed radiating from the ring. Keeping his tone low and steady, he turned to the manager. “I’ll pay for the damages,” he said, a quiet conviction in his voice. The manager raised an eyebrow, sneering. “You? Pay?” He scoffed, crossing his arms as he took a step closer, looking Henry up and down with disdain. “You expect me to believe nobody like you, a beggar who can’t even earn his father-in-law’s respect, can afford to pay $250,000? Is this some kind of joke?” Henry forced himself to remain calm, suppressing the anger that threatened to boil over. The manager’s words stung, but he kept his focus on the ring. As it seemed to pulse on his finger as though reminding him to
The Slumdog Billionaire 94. Fake Billionaire Heir
Chapter Ninety Four Henry was knee-deep in soap suds, mopping the glossy marble floors of the gallery. The irony was sharp, but he held his head high, trying to ignore the stinging humiliation that clung to him like the scent of cleaning chemicals. The ring on his finger pulsed faintly, as though reminding him of its presence, of the strange pull it held over him. And then, almost without thought, he found himself standing in front of the torn artwork—the one that had ignited this chain of ridicule and disbelief. Without understanding why, Henry reached out, his fingers hovering over the torn canvas. He could feel the texture of the fabric beneath his fingertips, the brushstrokes and pigments alive under the lights. Then, in a trance-like state, he lifted the painting from the wall, his hands moving instinctively. He didn’t even realize he was moving toward the back storage room until he stood before shelves of painting supplies, reaching for brushes, paints, and an assort
The Slumdog Billionaire 95. The Boss Daughter Is Sexy
Chapter Ninety Five Henry barely noticed Léa’s scrutinizing gaze as she examined the restored painting. When she turned back to him, a flicker of intrigue lit her eyes, softened only slightly by the hint of a smile. "How did you know what to do?" she asked, her voice sharp but laced with genuine curiosity. “That technique—no one has used it in decades, and few have ever even heard of it. So, tell me, Mr. Knight, how did you do it?" Henry glanced down at his hands, still feeling the strange warmth from the ring. He opened his mouth, unsure how to explain something he didn’t fully understand himself. “Honestly… I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like this before. It felt like… instinct. Something just guided me.” Léa’s brows lifted, a skeptical smirk playing on her lips, but before she could question him further, her eyes sharpened as though she’d remembered something urgent. She placed her perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder, the pressure light but commanding. Her n
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