Linda’s POVWhen I was done washing the dishes, I dried my hands and left the kitchen. I knew that I had to go to Chris so we could watch the movie I had recommended, but I could not do it with my face looking like this.I headed to the bathroom that was downstairs and locked the door. Opening the faucet, I splashed some cold water on my face.The feeling was refreshing, I really did need it. After that, I closed the faucet and grabbed a paper towel, drying my face before staring at myself in the mirror.I felt like I looked better but one could still tell that I had been crying though. Brushing it off, I stepped out of the bathroom and headed for the living room.I met Chris on the couch, there was a movie on the huge TV on the wall, but it was paused. “Hey, you okay?” He asked in a gentle and comforting voice. “I’m fine. Can we please get this over with before watching the movie?” I asked him, sitting not too far from him on the couch.“Um…sure,” He replied. “You’re talking about c

Chris’s POVAfter setting up the room for Meghan, I looked at it, glancing around the space. It was done well and I was proud of the workers who had made it happen.It was not I who helped set the room up, why would I do that? Did I want Linda to kill me?All I did was supervise the whole thing. I needed everything in order before I left for London. I was glad that Meghan was not in the same wing of the house as Linda.It would make things easier, considering that the house was huge and they hated each other. Jacob said that he would be staying too, and to avoid problems, I agreed and informed Linda. She shrugged it off but did not seem as pissed as she seemed when she had learned about Meghan moving in.“Thank you, Chris. The room looks beautiful,” Meghan said as she startled me, coming from behind. I turned in her direction and walked deeper into the room so she, her boyfriend, and Linda could walk in.“Okay,” I replied to her in a dull tone as I tried to get closer to my wife. “

Chris’s POVMy father regarded me for a moment, his expression unreadable as he weighed his options. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he reached out and clasped my hand firmly in his own. “Deal,” He declared, a hint of resignation lacing his voice. It was clear that he was not entirely thrilled with the arrangement but he knew that he had little choice if he wanted to salvage what remained of his legacy. Relief washed over me as the weight of the decision lifted from my shoulders. I had achieved what I set out to accomplish, I mean it was what I initially had planned to accomplish but it was good nevertheless. I had just secured a significant stake in my father’s empire and positioned myself as a key player in its future. But even as I celebrated this victory, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of my mind. I was scared that I was going to mess this up, but I had to keep being hopeful. “When will the paperwork be drawn up?” I asked him. “Before the end of the day,” He

Chris’s POVI took a moment to gather my thoughts, composing myself before speaking. “Of course,” I replied, my tone measured. “First and foremost, I want to address the recent rumors and accusations that have been circulating. Yes, there have been some… unsavory claims made against my family. But I want to assure everyone watching that these allegations are completely unfounded. They’re not true.” The host nodded, her expression encouraging. “So you’re saying that these accusations are nothing more than baseless gossip?” The truth was on the tip of my tongue, I badly wanted to tell her and the world everything; about how my wife had been tortured and threatened over and over all because she was digging in their graveyard, trying to find some of the secrets they had buried. But of course, I did not. “Exactly,” I affirmed. My voice was steady. “My family has been the target of malicious rumors for far too long. But I’m here today to set the record straight. The truth is, my father d

Chris’s POVThe air in the courtroom crackled with tension as my words hung in the air, echoing off the walls like a thunderclap. All eyes turned to my father, who sat frozen in his seat, his face drained of color as he stared back at me in disbelief. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of my accusation lingering in the air. Then, chaos erupted as the gallery erupted into a frenzy of murmurs and whispers, the sound swelling to a deafening roar. My father’s lawyer sputtered with indignation as he protested my accusation. “You honor, this is preposterous!” He exclaimed, his voice tinged with desperation. “Mr. Kingston is being falsely accused by his own son! This is an outrage!” But the judge’s gavel pounded against the wooden desk, cutting through the noise like a knife. “Order in the court!” He thundered, his voice booming across the room. “You will have your chance to respond to these allegations in due time. For now, I suggest you remain seated and allow the witness to