All Chapters of After I Died, He Truly Panicked: Chapter 351 - Chapter 360

Maxwell’s POVI dropped Regina off at the Veyron estate just as the sun began to sink behind the hills, staining the clouds a dull shade of rust.She hadn’t said much during the drive, and I didn’t push her. Her silence felt fragile, like glass that might shatter if I touched it.When we reached the gates, she unbuckled her seatbelt without a word.“Regina,” I said softly, resting a hand on the steering wheel. “You’ll be okay?”She nodded absently. Her eyes were distant, unfocused, as if she was still trapped somewhere between the courtroom and that moment outside Serenity.“I’ll be fine,” she murmured, then slipped out of the car.I watched her disappear through the wrought-iron gates before starting the engine again. I didn’t believe her for a second.By the time I reached the estate, Ivan was waiting near the steps, holding his little backpack, Mia standing beside him with her arms crossed.“Daddy!” Ivan ran up to me, his energy cutting through the day’s heaviness.I knelt down and

Maxwell’s POVI hadn’t expected it to be her. Of all people, my own mother.When I heard the name, it felt like the air had been punched out of me.Sandra Chamberlain, my mother, the woman who’d raised me to be cautious, who’d scolded me for every reckless impulse I’d ever had, was keeping tabs on me like I was a suspect, not her son.Still, as I drove toward my parents’ house that morning, the mansion looming in the distance like a monument to every cold conversation we’d ever had, I tried to convince myself there had to be a reason.Something that made sense. Something more than paranoia.Ivan sat in the back seat, clutching his favorite toy car, humming quietly.I didn’t want to bring him along, God knew I didn’t, but after what had happened last night, leaving him at the estate didn’t feel right either.Besides, Mother was always gentler when he was around.The house hadn’t changed. It never did. The same marble steps, the same carefully trimmed hedges. The curtains drawn just so,

Regina’s POVI didn’t know who to go to.Not after what I found out.The realization still sat heavy in my chest like a weight I couldn’t lift.My own father had been in cohorts with the man who kidnapped and tortured me for ages. I still couldn’t process it. Every time I thought about it, it felt like my lungs filled with cold air, refusing to let me breathe.Frank Veyron. My father. My tormentor’s ally.Even the sound of his name in my head made my stomach twist.I didn’t know who to trust anymore. My mind kept replaying the night before, his voice over the phone, calm, almost bored, saying, “I held up my end of the bargain. You’ll do well to remember to hold yours.”The words had burned themselves into me. The way he said bargain, like I was nothing more than a transaction, a piece in some deal that went too far.Now I couldn’t even look at him. I couldn’t look at anyone.My fingers trembled as I picked up my phone. I needed to keep moving or I’d fall apart. I typed out a quick tex

Maxwell’s POVThe boardroom was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the rhythmic tapping of my pen against the table.I stopped when I realized both Jonathan Reeves and Patel were watching me, waiting.The stack of documents in front of me felt heavier than it should.Dozens of pages, bank statements, transaction summaries, offshore records, all marked with the same ugly word at the top: Fraud Investigation.I leaned back in my chair, exhaling. “All right,” I said finally, breaking the silence. “Let’s start from the top.”Jonathan, my senior counsel, pushed his glasses up his nose and cleared his throat. “The prosecutors have officially filed their motion to proceed,” he said, voice clipped, efficient. “They’re moving forward with the case against Kingsman Group. Their focus is the chain of offshore payments made between 2018 and 2020—”Patel added quietly, flipping open his folder, “Several of those accounts are tied to shell companies operating out of Luxembou

Regina’s POVBy the time I finally reached home that evening, my head was pounding.The drive back to the Veyron estate should’ve felt like a relief, but lately, even the silence here felt heavy.I parked outside the gate and sat for a moment, staring through the windshield, thinking about the conversation I dreaded most.Mia.She’d been talking about the Brimworth trip for days, chattering about the sea, about the boat rides, about the “family weekend” she had painted in her mind. To her, it wasn’t about beaches or hotels.It was about Mommy and Daddy together.And Ivan, sweet Ivan, had followed her lead, asking endless questions about whether they’d all sleep in the same place, if Maxwell would let him stay up late to “watch stars.”I swallowed hard, guilt pressing at the back of my throat.How was I supposed to tell them that the trip wasn’t happening anymore? That their little dream of a family getaway had dissolved into a security regulation email from Joshua Beck?Maybe it was f