2024-09-10 08:20:13Shock rippled through the room as they heard the voice. A guest of the Washington family? Eyes turned to Tedmond, widening in disbelief.
To be a guest of the Washington family meant that Tedmond was a big shot or potentially related to them. Even some of the Washingtons' relatives had tried to get in but were always denied entrance.
How could someone like Tedmond be allowed?
“Are you sure it’s the right person?” Gregory questioned. Despite shivering, he couldn’t help but ask.
“How dare you ask me that?” the person on the other end bellowed. “If I lose my job, you're going to regret it! You’d better let that fellow into the ward, or else!”
Gregory was taken aback by the mention of his boss losing his job. As the call ended, he hurriedly bowed to Tedmond, terrified that he might lose the position he had worked so hard for.
“I’m sorry for not recognizing you, sir,” he apologized. “I’ll walk you to the room,” he added, raising his head to look at Tedmond. “Let’s get—”
“No need,” Tedmond cut him off, disgusted by how quickly Gregory had changed his attitude once he realized Tedmond was a guest. “I can find it myself, just like I intended to do before.”
The phone call had confirmed that everything was real, but Tedmond still needed an explanation for all this.
“Sir!” Gregory called out, but Tedmond ignored him and walked off to find the ward.
The women were equally stunned, unable to speak. They just watched Tedmond leave, clinging to the thin hope that they wouldn’t get fired.
Minutes later, Tedmond’s eyes lingered on the sign above the ward that read Room 509. The door was slightly open, and he could see the window but not the hospital bed. He hesitated, wondering if it was right to enter without knocking.
“You’re here,” a familiar voice said.
Tedmond’s head snapped down to see the little girl he had saved earlier peering up at him. She had changed into different clothes and was holding a teddy bear in her hand.
“My grandpa wants to see you before he…” she trailed off softly. “You have to come in quickly.”
Tedmond nodded and followed her into the ward. The first thing that greeted him was the stare of a middle-aged man in glasses and a frail old man lying on the hospital bed.
“Hello,” Tedmond said, swallowing hard. He had no idea what else to say. “I got a call from you and noticed my account had been credited, and you mentioned I’m the heir of the Washington family. What’s going on?”
The man in glasses bowed slightly. “I’m Thomas, the Washington family’s butler. You’ll get your answers soon.” Gesturing to the old man on the bed, he sighed. “This is Mr. Jeffrey Washington, the head of the family.”
Tedmond stepped closer until he could see the old man clearly, the little girl clutching her grandfather’s hand.
“Hello, Mr. Washington,” Tedmond said politely, controlling his curiosity.
Jeffrey didn’t look well, as if he was about to take his final breath, just as his granddaughter had hinted earlier. Tedmond realized the girl was indeed the Washington family’s granddaughter.
Jeffrey managed a smile. “Ted…” he called weakly. “I’ve finally found my heir. Welcome back, grandson.”
“What’s going on?” Tedmond asked, shooting Thomas a questioning look. “Why is he calling me his grandson?”
His question went unanswered as the life support machine began beeping, and the room filled with tension. The beeping quickened, and Tedmond froze. Thomas immediately sprang into action, pressing a button by the bedside.
“We need a doctor! Now!” Thomas shouted, his voice steady but urgent.
A nurse rushed in moments later, her expression shifting to concern as she assessed the situation. “His condition’s worsening,” she muttered, checking the machines. “We need to stabilize him.”
“Where’s the doctor?” Tedmond asked, glancing between Thomas and the nurse. He felt the weight of the situation crashing down on him—he had no idea what was happening, but it seemed he was now part of something much larger than he had ever expected.
“Dr. Howard is on his way,” the nurse replied quickly, turning back to the patient and adjusting the machines.
Jeffrey’s breathing grew more labored, and the little girl clutched her teddy bear tighter, standing silently by her grandfather's side, her eyes filled with worry.
Moments later, a tall man in a white coat stormed into the room. “Step aside!” he ordered, moving swiftly to the bedside. His hands flew over the equipment, exchanging rapid words with the nurse.
Tedmond stood helpless, watching as the doctor and nurse worked to stabilize Jeffrey. Every second felt like an eternity, and the feeling building in his chest intensified.
Jeffrey’s breathing became increasingly shallow, and the beeping from the machine slowed. Dr. Howard glanced at the nurse, and they exchanged a look that told Tedmond all he needed to know.
Despite their best efforts, it was too late.
The doctor shook his head, his face grim as he checked the old man’s pulse one last time. The room fell silent, except for the soft whimpering of the little girl clutching her grandfather’s hand.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Howard finally said, his voice low. “He’s gone.”
Tedmond stood there, disbelief washing over him. The man who had just called him his grandson—who had somehow linked him to this mysterious fortune—was now dead.
The little girl let out a soft sob, and Thomas closed his eyes, his expression unreadable as he whispered, “Rest in peace, Mr. Washington.”
Tedmond, unsure of what to feel, watched as the nurse gently covered the old man’s body with a sheet. It was surreal—a few minutes ago, Jeffrey Washington had been calling him “grandson,” and now he was gone. The answers Tedmond had hoped for had died with him.
“What now?” Tedmond whispered, his voice barely audible.
Thomas, though visibly shaken, straightened and turned toward Tedmond. “Mr. Washington made his decision before he passed. You are now the heir to the Washington family’s legacy, Tedmond. It’s up to you to carry it forward.”
Tedmond stared at him in shock, the weight of those words crashing down on him. How could this be happening? Just hours ago, he had nothing—and now he was the heir to a family he didn’t even know.
“What… what does that even mean?” Tedmond stammered, the enormity of the situation closing in on him.
“It means,” Thomas replied solemnly, “that everything Mr. Washington owned now belongs to you. The fortune, the businesses, the responsibilities—it’s all yours.”
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CHAPTER 806
The silence following Tedmond’s accusation was heavy, like the ionized air before a lightning strike.Lorenzo, Vincenzo, and Pietro didn't immediately protest. Instead, their faces shifted, the masks of nostalgic warmth crumbling to reveal the cold, calculating stone beneath. Lorenzo’s brow furrowed into a jagged line as he cast a sharp, sideways glance at Pietro. The look was brief: a flicker of recognition that they weren't dealing with an impulsive heir, but a tactician who had come armed with receipts. A grim, silent understanding passed between them: this one was going to be difficult.Tedmond watched them with predatory stillness. He caught the minute tilt of Lorenzo’s head and the twitch of Vincenzo’s hand over his knee, clear signals in the silent language of the Old Blood families. He didn't need to know the specific cipher to recognize the intent. They were shifting formation, closing ranks against a threat they could no longer patronize."Our apologies, Mr. Washington
CHAPTER 805
The smiles faltered. A heavy, awkward hesitation settled over the table. Cordelia glanced at Juliette, her fork stilled against the china."This is a private family caucus, Persis," Juliette said, her tone tightening as she reached for a justification. "The other families are... in the main hall. We felt that given your history, a more intimate setting with women of your own rank would be less overwhelming.""My rank?" Persis tilted her head, her gold earrings catching the light. "I am a Washington. My rank is the head of the table. So I ask again… why am I the only guest here? Are the other families not invited to your private talks, or are they simply afraid to be in a room where everyone shares the same blood and the same secrets?"She looked at them, her silence demanding an answer they weren't prepared to give."We... we felt it was safer this way," Cordelia stammered, her copper braids shifting as she leaned forward. "With the Architect still at large and the Washingtons acti
CHAPTER 804
"Now," Persis continued, her lips tilting into a sharp, clinical smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Since my husband and I have spent the last fifteen years concerned with matters of actual consequence, I find I haven't had the time to memorize the roster of every adjacent branch on the map.”“To be perfectly blunt: I don’t care about your family history, and I have absolutely no idea what any of your names are."A collective intake of breath hissed through the room. Cordelia’s grip on the door handle tightened, her copper hair practically vibrating with indignation. Juliette froze, her cigarette holder halfway to her lips, her burgundy eyes narrowing.Persis gestured vaguely toward the circle of women with a gold-cuffed hand. "So, if we are to have this discussion you seem so eager for, it would be beneficial for you to introduce yourselves.”“One by one, please. I’d hate to mislabel a file later when we’re deciding which parts of the Moretti infrastructure are still worth keeping.
CHAPTER 803
She signaled to a younger woman with copper hair braided with gold wire. "Cordelia, escort the lady to the Rose Gallery. The others are waiting."As Persis walked away, her gold dress trailing like a flame, Tedmond stood in the center of the room, alone amidst his enemies. He watched her disappear behind the silk curtains before turning his gaze back to Beatrix."The Library, then," Tedmond said, his voice a low rasp. "Let's see what the men of this house have to say for themselves before I stop listening entirely."Tedmond followed the silent beckoning of the Moretti elders toward the Library, a room that smelled of old leather, expensive tobacco, and the stagnant rot of ancient secrets.The double doors closed behind him with a heavy, final thud, cutting off the glittering light of the ballroom."Mr. Washington. Please," a man with silvering red hair and a face like a hawk gestured toward a heavy velvet armchair at the center of the semi-circle. "Take a seat. We have much to discus
CHAPTER 802
"Perhaps he’s finally realized he can't fight the council alone," one guest suggested, though his voice lacked conviction."Tedmond Washington doesn't realize he needs help; he realizes he needs targets," a younger heir countered, eyes fixed on the entrance. "Think about the timing. He’s been purging the secondary branches for days.”“If he shows up here, in the heart of the Moretti estate, he’s either surrendering, or he’s bringing the fire to the front door. And Tedmond doesn't know how to surrender."The murmurs grew in volume, a low, tectonic vibration that filled the crystalline space. In the rigid hierarchy of the city, the Washingtons were the sun: distant, burning, and singular. They didn't orbit other families; they didn't attend parties; they merely allowed them to happen. The fact that the black-suited Washington was breaking his years-long social exile for the family that had facilitated his mother’s kidnapping made the champagne taste like vinegar to those who understo
CHAPTER 801
She grabbed his face, forcing him to meet her stare. "Because if the Glass Pavilion ends with you still looking at them and me still hiding in a hoodie, I might just break the glass myself."The Architect reached up, his large hands covering hers and pinning them to his cheeks. He looked amused, a man watching a beautiful, dangerous storm."Millicent is a debt, Daphne. Persis is a variable," he whispered, his voice smooth and hypnotic. "But you... you are the prize. The Washingtons and the Morettis are fighting over the past. We are the only ones looking at the future."He pulled her closer until their foreheads rested together."Tomorrow night, the hiding ends. When the pavilion falls, we won't be in the wreckage. We’ll be the only ones left standing on the shore. Is that enough, or do I need to prove it again?"Searching his face, Daphne felt the jealousy remain like a bitter coal in her chest, but the promise in his eyes was a drug she couldn't refuse."Prove it," she challenged,
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