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Chapter 30
At Crescent Hill hospital, inside of a modest yet Sophisticated office seated Dr. Kessington, donning a white crisp shirt with a white lab cloth draped over it. He is a man in his early forties with scanty grey hairs highlighting his natural dark hair. He sighed, his eyes thoughtful, a mix of disbelief and confusion evidence as he latched a stethoscope around his neck. “This..this..is really surprising.” He muttered more to himself than to the man who sat across his desk. The man seated across his desk was no person other than Thompson Montclair, the oil money Mogul. Mr. Kessington sauntered over to his swivel chair where his black suit drapped over the backrest and slumped into it, swirling on it gently, his thoughts spinning. Thompson Montclair leaned forward, his chair squeaking gently as the weight decreased on it. “What did you notice, Kessing?” He said casually, his light tone indicating the intimate relationship he has with Dr. Kessing. “I want to be sure if truly the hea
Chapter 30
At Crescent Hill hospital, inside of a modest yet Sophisticated office seated Dr. Kessington, donning a white crisp shirt with a white lab cloth draped over it. He is a man in his early forties with scanty grey hairs highlighting his natural dark hair. He sighed, his eyes thoughtful, a mix of disbelief and confusion evidence as he latched a stethoscope around his neck. “This..this..is really surprising.” He muttered more to himself than to the man who sat across his desk. The man seated across his desk was no person other than Thompson Montclair, the oil money Mogul. Mr. Kessington sauntered over to his swivel chair where his black suit drapped over the backrest and slumped into it, swirling on it gently, his thoughts spinning. Thompson Montclair leaned forward, his chair squeaking gently as the weight decreased on it. “What did you notice, Kessing?” He said casually, his light tone indicating the intimate relationship he has with Dr. Kessing. “I want to be sure if truly the hea
Chapter 28
At Crescent Hill hospital, inside of a modest yet Sophisticated office seated Dr. Kessington, donning a white crisp shirt with a white lab cloth draped over it. He is a man in his early forties with scanty grey hairs highlighting his natural dark hair.He sighed, his eyes thoughtful, a mix of disbelief and confusion evidence as he latched a stethoscope around his neck.“This..this..is really surprising.” He muttered more to himself than to the man who sat across his desk.The man seated across his desk was no person other than Thompson Montclair, the oil money Mogul.Mr. Kessington sauntered over to his swivel chair where his black suit drapped over the backrest and slumped into it, swirling on it gently, his thoughts spinning.Thompson Montclair leaned forward, his chair squeaking gently as the weight decreased on it.“What did you notice, Kessing?” He said casually, his light tone indicating the intimate relationship he has with Dr. Kessing. “I want to be sure if truly the heart at
Chapter 27
“I'll alight here.” Carl stopped the Taxi at the gate of Kessington’s mansion.He paid the Driver and stepped down, his eyes darting around the place. The environ looks different and the once old and rusted gate had been replaced with a deep black wrought iron one.Carl walked to the gate, his stride casual and calculated, hands jammed inside his pocket with calm precision. He knocked on the gate once. He didn't wait longer before the pedestrian side of the gate squeaked open halfly and a young man peeked, obviously the gateman, wearing a navy blue uniform and a cap that aligned. He looked Carl up and down for recognition. A frown formed on his face as he couldn't recognize Carl.Carl noticed the expression of suspicion and confusion in his eyes. The gateman just got employed because Carl didn't recognize him either. It was old Joe, a grizzled hair man who was once the gateman before he went to prison.“Who are you?” The gateman questioned him, not stepping outside the gate.“Carl. I
Chapter 26
As Carl stepped out of Kessing Headquarter, the crisp and warm air of the midday brushed against his face, his mind sharper than before after the encounter with Elira. His finger curled into a tight fist as he recounted every word, every brutal confession she made in that room to crush him.How could she do something so Grave like that? And she thought she'd won? She played smart, schemed a quiet marriage to make him crumble. Carl was playing love, while she was playing cruel games.As Carl walked to the curb to wave down a taxi, surrounded by the chatters from passersby and automobiles, his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket.He stopped on his track and pulled out his phone, a tight frown forming between his brows. It was Elira calling...She didn't save it as Elira.She saved her name as ‘My life.’His finger tightened on the phone, anger rising in high tides inside his chest at the mere sight of the pet name.“What did she want now?" Carl muttered between gritted teeth. He picked t
Chapter 25
*****Carl pinned at the spot like a 1000 ton metal had just crashed onto his head.What was Elira talking about?“What are you talking about?” He questioned, his voice raspy but steady, a frown forming between his brows.Elira chuckled wryly, mocking the expression carried on his face.A laughter followed, dripping jeers and venom. “You wanna cry? Huh?” She clicked forward, her suit sharp, her lips curled in a cruel smirk.She began, “I played you and you fell for it. Fell into it. You're just a stooge, Carl. You went to prison instead of Henry. You took his fall. Henry was the person who hit Alex Maranzano and not me.” She laughed like she'd just cracked the funniest joke of the century.Carl’s eyes widened, shock flashing within. The confession hit hard like nuclear explosion.Elira stepped back, heels clicking as she turned to Henry who stood, hands jammed in his pocket with practiced arrogance. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Grinning, she leaned in and kissed him on the lips,
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