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Chapter 116
Author: Youngblood
last update2025-08-21 21:25:47

Chance hadn’t slept more than a handful of restless hours. His bed had felt like stone, the silence of the night too loud, pressing down on him. Every time his eyes fluttered shut, the same images replayed—Julia’s face cold and unyielding across the kitchen counter, the sharp sound of porcelain cracking against wood, coffee spilling across the table like blood from a wound. And her words.

We are mourning Gary, Chance. And the least you could do is respect that.

Those words had burrowed into him, deeper than he’d admit, echoing in his skull until he could hardly think straight.

Now, as he stood at the tall window of his study, the early morning light spilling over the perfectly manicured lawns, he pressed his forehead against the cold glass. Respect. That was what Julia demanded—respect for grief, for silence, for the dead.

But what about the living?

He could still see Chloe’s face from the night before. The faint tremble in her voice. The desperation she fought to hide, even as her wo
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  • Chapter 121

    The night was heavy, the kind of silence that pressed down on Chance’s chest even as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep did not come easily—not after the week of grief, of arguments, of impossible decisions clawing at his mind. But eventually, exhaustion dragged him under.And when it did, he found himself standing in a vast hall.The air was thick, ancient, humming with a resonance that seemed to seep into his bones. Dark marble stretched beneath his feet, polished to a perfect sheen yet cold as ice. Tall pillars, carved with symbols he couldn’t understand, rose up endlessly into shadows. There was no light source, and yet the entire place glowed faintly, eerily, as if alive.“Where am I?” Chance whispered, his own voice echoing too loudly in the cavernous hall.The answer came not in words at first but in sound—the rhythmic thump of approaching footsteps. They rang with the weight of inevitability, each step reverberating like a war drum.From the shadows, a figure emerged

  • Chapter 120

    Roland Kwan didn’t waste time before calling for an emergency meeting with other key members of the O'Connor board. Within the hour, the heavy oak doors of the conference room closed behind a gathering of the company’s most influential decision-makers.Though the agenda hadn’t been circulated, the tension in the room was unmistakable. Secretaries hurried in and out, setting down documents and glasses of water, while the board members sat stiffly in their high-backed chairs, their eyes narrowing at Roland, and Harold who were more less the pioneers of the meeting.“Ladies and gentlemen,” Roland began. “Myself and Harold convened this meeting because there’s a matter too urgent to wait. Young Chance O’Connor has been making… moves. Independent moves.”He slid a file onto the polished table and tapped the cover. The members leaned forward as the details were revealed—the acquisition of Regal Motors.The silence broke almost immediately.“You’re saying,” one older member muttered, “that t

  • Chapter 119

    Julia was seated at the edge of her bed, her hands clasped loosely in her lap, staring at nothing. She had hardly moved since morning as grief had suddenly become the weight pressing against her chest, with Philip’s silence only making it heavier. He hadn’t so much as looked at her properly in the last two days, shutting her out in his own grief, leaving her to bear both her sorrow and his coldness.And as if that wasn't enough, her recent argument with Chance over the $600 million to acquire Regal motors still lingered deep, making her wonder if this was just her paying for being too ambitious as a woman.The election results were still being challenged by Senator Norville and she wasn't even sure if it was worth it anymore.She was still in the maze of her thoughts when the sudden buzz of her phone startled her. It vibrated insistently against the surface of the nightstand. With a weary sigh, she reached for it, frowning when she saw the name on the caller ID.Roland Kwan.Julia’s

  • Chapter 118

    Charles Bernard sat in the high-backed leather chair of his penthouse suite, one ankle crossed over the other. The entire Bernard Tower—named after his family—seemed to hum with life beneath him, yet inside the room it was quiet. Too quiet.On the glass table beside him, a Rolex ticked steadily. Each second that passed fed into his anticipation. His lips curled into a smug smile. The deadline was almost here. Chloe Martins had less than three hours left. By nightfall, Regal Motors would belong to him, and the Bernards’ chokehold on the automobile industry would tighten until even the O’Connors would be forced to kneel.His coming back from overseas to take over the Bernard's chain of businesses as the eldest son was to make it clear to the entire business community that the Bernards could match up with the O' Connors and he was determined to make it so.For too long, the O' Connor's name has been sung with too much praise. Every paper, every media outlet, every business summit kept s

  • Chapter 117

    While Gary was still there trying to embrace this new reality, one of the members of the syndicate slid a dagger across the table until it came to rest in front of him. “What’s this for?” Gary asked, his brow furrowing.The woman leaned back in her chair, her lips curving in something between a smile and a challenge.“A choice. You take the oath, and you are one of us. The Stannis fight becomes your fight. Your mother’s vengeance becomes your duty. If you refuse… then you walk away, and we will never speak of this again. You return to your O’Connor step-family, to their lies, to their silences. But you will know, deep down, that you turned your back on Susan, your mother.”At that name—Susan—his heart lurched.Brenda, standing beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder. Her grip was firm, unyielding. She leaned down, her voice sharp, vibrating with restrained fury.“Your mother deserved a son who would stand for her. A son who would not be blind to Philip’s betrayal. Gary, be that son

  • Chapter 116

    Chance hadn’t slept more than a handful of restless hours. His bed had felt like stone, the silence of the night too loud, pressing down on him. Every time his eyes fluttered shut, the same images replayed—Julia’s face cold and unyielding across the kitchen counter, the sharp sound of porcelain cracking against wood, coffee spilling across the table like blood from a wound. And her words.We are mourning Gary, Chance. And the least you could do is respect that.Those words had burrowed into him, deeper than he’d admit, echoing in his skull until he could hardly think straight.Now, as he stood at the tall window of his study, the early morning light spilling over the perfectly manicured lawns, he pressed his forehead against the cold glass. Respect. That was what Julia demanded—respect for grief, for silence, for the dead.But what about the living?He could still see Chloe’s face from the night before. The faint tremble in her voice. The desperation she fought to hide, even as her wo

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