Chapter 369: The Softest Armor The boardroom had cleared, but the echoes of the war just won still clung to the walls. Stephany stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, arms folded, gaze locked on the skyline she once believed belonged to people far beyond her reach. Now? She didn’t know what belonged to her anymore. Behind her, Chris stood quietly. His presence was no longer heavy—it was steady. Like the soft hum of power that no longer needed to shout. She spoke first. “You let me fight him alone again.” She said. Chris didn’t flinch. “You didn’t need me to win.” Stephany turned to face him. Her eyes, tired but clear, locked with his. “That’s not the point, Chris.” A pause. Heavy. “I didn’t need your protection,” she added, voice low. “I needed your presence.” Chris’s jaw tightened, and for the first time since the gala, he looked vulnerable. “You told me to give you space. I didn’t want to disrespect that.” “I know,” she said softly. “But the space started to feel like aba

Chapter 371: The Grandmother’s Last WishThe games have been set and the players were known, it’s now time for them to go back to their abode and come up with the best strategy. Chris did not go back home immediately, he went to his office and studied these players that were in thoroughly and device the best means to win.It was after all was set that he went back to the penthouse at dawn. After all that had happened he took her to his wife penthouse where the two of them could have time for themselves And Chris was looking forward to that. The penthouse was quiet. For once, Chris wasn’t surrounded by monitors, encrypted calls, or Connor’s rapid-fire updates. Just the hum of the city beneath and the faint aroma of ginger tea his wife had brew. Stephany stood near the floor-to-ceiling window, arms crossed, watching the lights of Manhattan flicker like scattered stars. She hadn’t spoken much since they left the hotel and restaurant.But she didn’t need to say anything. Just b

Chapter 373: The Return to the Browns The morning sunlight crept into the penthouse, golden and warm, but Stephany was already awake wrapped in one of Chris’s oversized shirts, seated on the balcony with a cup of his strongest coffee. She had made her decision. When Chris stepped out of the bedroom, she looked up at him, her voice steady. “I want to meet them.” Chris tilted his head. “Meet who?” “Your family,” she said. “The Browns.” Chris stilled, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.” “I’m not proving anything,” she said quietly. “I’m your wife. I’ve seen the worst of you, the best of you, and the truth you tried to hide. If I’m going to stand beside you now… I want to do it with both feet in.” Chris stared at her for a long time, then gave a slow nod. “Alright. You’ll meet them tomorrow.” He didn’t say more. But deep down, a storm brewed beneath his calm. It was time. The next afternoon, a sleek convoy of matte black sedans rolled throu

Chapter 375: Georgina and Charles The pendant Nanny Grace left him still sat in his palm, warm as though it pulsed with memory. Chris stared at it for a long time after the lawyer left, the world outside growing dim with dusk. Stephany remained quiet beside him, not pushing, not asking. Just… watching. Until the doorbell rang again. Chris stood and opened the door himself. A hotel bellhop stood there with a package—no return address, just a small black envelope sealed with red wax. Chris accepted it. No words. Just instinct. Because something about the weight of that envelope felt familiar. Wrong. Heavy with the kind of truth you don’t ask for. He sat back down, broke the seal, and unfolded the letter inside. A photo dropped out. Then another. Then a burned corner of an accident report… Stephany leaned forward, confused. “What is it?” she asked. But Chris had gone still. A shadow passed through his eyes. The first photo was of his parents young, smiling,

Chapter 377: Sinclair’s first Attempt The Sterling skyline gleamed under a silver dusk, but inside the boutique-lined avenue of Fifth Row, all that shimmered wasn't gold it was desperation. Chris Brown stepped out of his black BMW, tailored in a sleek navy suit, his cufflinks catching the store’s chandelier lighting as he entered Vermillion Jewelers, one of the most exclusive jewelry houses in the country. Sinclair Pete had called earlier, her voice smooth, calculated, with the perfect tinge of casual concern. “Chris, I need a favor. I’m trying to appraise something rare for the foundation auction. You have the best eye for investment pieces. Could you come by?” Out of respect for their past distant when he used to work for her as an appraiser, he agreed to branch there before he goes back home as it’s both on the same way. What he didn’t know was that Sinclair had set the stage with precision. Inside the private lounge of the boutique, she stood waiting in a figure-h