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Chapter 63- Reassured. Or not.
Last Updated:
2025-09-27 19:05:20
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His Regret: I'm with his uncle now Chapter 88- The Fall of Silverwood
The night Harris confronted Ross began with rain — sharp, slanting drops slicing through the city skyline, making the glass towers bleed gold and blue. The roof of Silverwood Holdings’ headquarters glistened like obsidian under the storm.Harris stood there, one hand on his cane, the other gripping the envelope Randall had left behind. Inside were documents — bank records, transfer codes, blackmail notes. The truth. The evidence that Silverwood’s empire had been built, and rebuilt, on lies.Ross stepped out from the elevator, trench coat flapping against the wind. The rooftop doors shut behind him with a hiss.“You’re early,” Ross said, voice calm. Too calm.Harris turned. “I wanted to hear it from you.”Ross smiled thinly. “And what did dear Randall tell you this time?”“That you killed him,” Harris said. His knuckles whitened around the envelope. “That you buried the truth under shell companies and blood. You were laundering money through the Silverwood trust.”Ross walked closer, h
His Regret: I'm with his uncle now Chapter 87- Blood Doesn’t Lie
Payne’s breathing had turned shallow. He pushed himself up from the chair, clutching his chest. “Cassie—please… she didn’t mean it…”Cassie turned away sharply. “You people disgust me.”And that was when Payne’s chair screeched back.He gasped. A sharp sound, small and strange — like air escaping from a balloon. His hand clutched his blazer where his heart should be.“Payne?” Bridget’s voice cracked. “Payne!”He tried to speak — only a strangled noise came out — then collapsed forward, smashing his glass on the table before hitting the floor.“Call an ambulance!” Bridget screamed, falling to her knees beside him.Cassie froze, eyes wide. Arden fumbled for his phone, dialing emergency as Bridget pressed her trembling hands to her husband’s chest.“Payne! Payne, stay with me—please!”---The wail of sirens filled the street ten minutes later.Neighbors gathered at the gate, whispering. The once-proud Murphy estate flickered under the ambulance lights like a house of ghosts.Bridget rode
His Regret: I'm with his uncle now Chapter 86- A downfall
Inside, the Murphys sat frozen — the remnants of their old world bleeding across the table.“You see?” Cassie said softly, dabbing the dark stain on her wrist with the edge of a napkin, her voice trembling but laced with venom. “They really are finished.”The room was dead silent except for the clinking of her bracelet as she reached for her wineglass again.Cassie sat back with her eyes darting between the Murphys as if expecting the walls to collapse next.Bridget stared blankly at the spot where the knife had landed. It lay near her shoe — still, gleaming faintly under the chandelier’s dull light. For years, that chandelier had hung over lavish dinners, laughter, and empty toasts. Tonight, it flickered, unsteady, throwing jagged shadows across her face.“Cassie, please,” Payne said, his voice hoarse, almost breaking. “She’s not herself. You can’t hold this against—”Cassie slammed her glass onto the table. “She tried to stab me, Payne! You think I’m going to smile and sip dessert w
His Regret: I'm with his uncle now Chapter 85- Bad intentions
The night Trent broke the internet began like any other storm — silent at first, then violent beyond reason.At 8:02 p.m., the live notification popped up on every phone that had ever cared about the Silverwoods, the Murphys, or the gossip that bled between them. Trent Silverwood is live. Millions clicked before they could stop themselves. The golden boy of Silverwood Empire, the one who’d stood beside Misty Murphy through every headline, appeared on screen — sharp-suited, eyes glassy, voice trembling not from nerves but from exhaustion.The restaurant lights glowed behind him, the chatter of guests dying as people realized what was happening.“I don’t even know how to start this,” Trent said. His voice was rough. “But I guess honesty’s overdue.”Misty was at home, robe tied too tight, glass of wine untouched on the coffee table. Her phone vibrated nonstop as the comments rolled across the screen — emojis, hearts, question marks, knives. She’d painted her nails two hours earlier to c
His Regret: I'm with his uncle now Chapter 84- The New Silverwood
The back door opened soundlessly.Ross Silverwood stepped in, the smell of gun oil clinging to him beneath a layer of rain and pine. His shoes left faint prints on the marble — smudges that would be gone before anyone noticed.The house was alive with movement. Voices overlapped — hushed, rehearsed, brittle with control. The kind of noise that filled silence when everyone was trying not to think.From the grand foyer came the faint echo of glassware, makeup brushes tapping, and the hum of the lighting rigs. A production team was setting up in the drawing room — the “Silverwood rebirth” announcement that had been planned for weeks.Ross paused in the hallway. Through the half-open door to the east wing, he could hear Trent’s voice — sharp, defensive.“I told them the lighting needs to hit from the left, not the right. We’re not doing this again.”No one answered him. Just the shuffle of cables.Ross removed his gloves and slipped them into the pocket of his coat. His shirt sleeve was s
His Regret: I'm with his uncle now Chapter 83- A good morning
The morning began like any other in the Randall household.Sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting warm stripes across the bedroom wall. His wife was already downstairs, the faint sound of sizzling eggs and clinking plates drifting through the air.Randall groaned softly as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The smell of coffee was his cue — strong, black, just how he liked it.In the hallway, his teenage son argued about missing sneakers while his tween daughter hummed to a pop song, swinging her backpack over one shoulder. His wife called from the kitchen, “Breakfast’s ready! And please, no arguments before eight!”Randall smiled faintly, straightening his tie in the mirror. Another day, another case. The life of an attorney never slowed — not even when you worked for the Silverwoods.He kissed his wife on the cheek, promised to be home early, and stepped out into the quiet suburban street. The air was crisp, still damp from dawn.He unlocked his car, slid into the dri
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