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CHAPTER NINETY-TWO – WHISPERS OF BLOOD
Author: Hop-Grip
last update2025-09-18 09:31:16

The storm over the Harrington estate had not yet broken, but the air was thick with its promise. Heavy clouds dragged across the evening sky, blotting out the last traces of sunlight.

Inside the estate’s vast hall, chandeliers threw harsh golden light over polished marble floors, over portraits of stern ancestors whose painted eyes seemed to judge everyone below. And in the middle of that grandeur, Redington stood like a shadow out of place.

His clothes were simple, far too plain for the opulence around him. His posture, however, had changed. Days ago he had bowed, head lowered, shoulders bent beneath humiliation. But now there was a quiet firmness in him.

His eyes, sharper, clearer, burned with a fire even he did not fully understand. Every insult, every beating, every degrading word the Harringtons had hurled at him clung to his memory, but tonight something was different. The weight no longer crushed him, it forged him.

Across the hall, Victor Harrington, the patriarch, lounged in
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  • CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT– The Family’s Gambit

    The Carmichael estate no longer hummed with wealth and poise it seethed with paranoia. The grand chandeliers flickered against the high ceilings of the strategy chamber, shadows crawling along polished marble floors.Around the oak table, the heirs sat like wolves sharpening their teeth, each scheming, each hungry, each afraid of losing what little grip they still had.Victor Carmichael leaned forward, his knuckles pressed against the wood, his voice carrying the steel edge of command. “We move tonight. Jonathan Hale has returned, and with him chaos. If we allow him and that servant to join forces, we’re finished.”Isabella twirled her wine glass with delicate fingers, her painted lips curling into a cold smile. “And yet,” she said, voice dripping with mockery, “I cannot help but notice that the servant has already made you all tremble.A housekeeper Imagine the scandal when society learns we let our empire be threatened by one of our own staff.” Her words stung, and that was her inte

  • CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN – Blood Ties in Shadows

    The hall had descended into anarchy, the unmasking in the previous night still burned in Redington’s mind like a brand, the image seared so deeply that sleep had been impossible. The face beneath the mask Jonathan Hale.The man thought dead the man whispered about in hushed tones, the one whose disappearance decades ago had left fractures in the empire’s foundations. A man tied not only to the Carmichaels’ downfall but to Redington’s own stolen past.He sat alone now in the dim servant’s quarters, staring at his reflection in the cracked mirror. His eyes, once dulled by years of servitude, now gleamed with something fierce and unyielding.Questions tormented him: Why reveal himself now? Why approach me? Why call me “boy” as if he knew me better than I knew myself? The door creaked open, it was Samuel the youngest Carmichael, the only one who ever showed him kindness. The boy’s face was pale, his eyes wide with fear.“Gregory” Samuel whispered, using the name few dared speak in this ho

  • CHAPTER NINETY-SIX – THE CLAIM

    Gunfire tore the night apart. The storm’s fury was nothing compared to the violence unfolding in the Harrington gardens. Lightning lit up the estate like a stage, every flash revealing chaos masked intruders firing from the hedges.Victor’s private army advancing from SUVs, and in the center of it all, Redington standing motionless in the rain, Daniel clutching at his arm. Victor’s words still hung in the air, heavy as stone “Bring me my son!”Redington’s body locked up, He couldn’t breathe. The candelabrum slipped from his hand, landing in the mud with a dull thud. Blood seeped down his arm from the graze, rain washing it into red rivulets. Son not housekeeper, not heir, not stray, son but how?The claim hit him harder than the bullet wound. “Redington!” Daniel’s voice cracked with terror. He pulled at him, trying to drag him toward the shadows of the garden wall. “We can’t stay here! They’ll kill us both!”But Redington’s feet felt rooted, as though the earth itself held him captive

  • CHAPTER NINETY- FIVE – Escape Through Shadows

    The Harrington estate had become a war zone. Bullets ripped through the air, chewing holes in priceless walls and shattering chandeliers that once glistened like stars above marble floors.The storm outside hammered against the mansion’s windows, lightning flashing white across bloodied carpets and fallen bodies. The scent of gunpowder mingled with rain and smoke. Redington’s lungs burned as he stumbled into the service passage.Daniel dragging him forward by the sleeve of his torn jacket. The brass candelabrum in Redington’s hand was still slick with blood his knuckles clenched white around its weight. He could still feel the echo of the strike that had crushed one of the intruder’s skulls.His heart pounded louder than the thundern ot from the fight, not from the chase. From the words that still rang in his ears, words too dangerous to forget, Heir, bloodline, Son. The revelation had come like a blade to the gut, leaving him reeling even as survival demanded he move.“Faster!” Danie

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    The Harrington estate had descended into a nightmare. Gunfire crackled through the halls, screams ricocheted off marble walls, and the storm outside roared like a beast awakened.Redington’s pulse hammered in his ears as Daniel yanked him into the narrow service passage that cut behind the grand dining hall. “Move!” Daniel hissed, voice shaking but urgent. “They’ll cut us off if we don’t!”Redington stumbled after him, clutching the heavy brass candelabrum still slick with blood. His knuckles whitened around it every step he took felt heavier not from exhaustion, but from the weight of what he had just heard, Son, heir, bloodline.The words refused to release him. “Daniel!” Eleanor’s voice shrieked from somewhere behind, swallowed by gunfire. “Get back here! You’ll”The sentence was cut short by a strangled cry. Redington’s chest tightened, but Daniel didn’t stop. He shoved open a narrow door at the end of the passage, pulling Redington through. They spilled into a dim corridor lined

  • CHAPTER NINETY- THREE – THE NAME THAT BURNS

    The word hung in the air like a thunderclap, Son. For a moment, the entire Harrington estate seemed to stop breathing Even the storm outside fell eerily quiet, as if the world itself leaned closer to listen.Redington’s legs threatened to give way beneath him. He stared up at the old man in the wheelchair, every nerve in his body screaming in recognition, though his mind refused to accept it.“Impossible” Victor rasped, his voice breaking under the weight of disbelief. He stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own chair.The old man ignored Victor completely, his gaze never wavered from Redington. His frail hands gripped the armrests of his wheelchair as though clinging to reality itself. “I thought I’d lost you forever,” he whispered. “But you’re here alive, my blood, my heir.”The Harrington children erupted at once Eleanor screeching in outrage, Marcus demanding answers, the others whispering furiously. But Daniel, the youngest, said nothing his wide eyes darted from the old m

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