Novel & Cerita Dear Mr Hamilton Book

LIAM’S POV “Sir, you have a visitor” Jonathan said. I looked up from my pile of work “who is it?” I asked. “Mr. Smith” he said. A frown covered my face “Simon is dead” Jonathan looked at me like he was staring at a complete, utter moron “Simon Smith had a father Liam, keep up” he said. “Oh” I dropped the document that I was revising and straightened up on my seat “let him in” I said.

"Yes, sir." Mr. Lewiston ended the call and set his phone down, his gaze falling on the pile of evidence sprawled across his desk. Folders, photographs, and digital files documented years of deceit and destruction orchestrated by the Hamilton family. Signoral Hamilton, the devil spawn of her ruthless parents, had taken the darkness they had cultivated and expanded it to new depths.

Let's get your face treated at the beauty salon. Madison took the card. "Don't worry, Mom. Mr. Hamilton has his kinks. If he likes his niece, he must like me, too!"

His ashes were stored in an urn which her mother cradled to her chest as Liam drove them along with Sasha to their house. As they walked into the house with Desiree holding her mother from the side, Jonas and the maids who’d returned to the house when it was time for cremation approached them, all of their faces grim with sadness. The head maid, Lorena, spoke. “Mrs. Hamilton, I’m so sorry. You don’t know how much it hurts me that Mr. Hamilton is no longer with us. He was such a good person, and–” “And it’s your fault that he’s gone,” her mother cut Lorena off.

He knew that Finnick had offended a powerful figure in Northspring, but he did not expect that person to be someone from the Hamiltons. Bo replied respectfully, “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hamilton.” Mr. Hamilton then asked indifferently, “Do you have any problem going to Room Segunda?” Bo was momentarily stunned before he said, “No problem at all.” An amusing smile appeared on Mr. Hamilton’s face as he said, “Did you see that, Mr. Sullivan? Mr. Zachry is smart. You should learn from him.” Finnick lowered his head. He did not expect that he would get humiliated so much in front of Kayson today.

From the age of ten, every dollar my parents spent on me became a debt. Tuition. Clothes. Food. Even medical bills. By eighteen, I had signed one hundred and ninety-nine promissory notes. But Camilla—the daughter of the man who died protecting my parents—received everything for free. They gave her my bedroom, my inheritance bracelet, a Manhattan apartment, a Maserati, and eventually even the attention of my fiancé, Nick. My parents called it repaying her father’s sacrifice. They called my suffering “heir training.” On the eighteenth birthday Camilla and I shared, I was seriously injured in a car accident. While my family celebrated her aboard a Caribbean yacht, I begged them for three thousa

I wiped them with my fingers and she didn't pull away. I shifted closer and engulfed her in a hug, her silent sobs turned to loud ones. "Shush. I know you hate me. I know I don't deserve you, not even a single bit. I know didn't treat you like the Queen you are. Didn't even treat you like my mate. I almost killed you and then overnight I tell you I love you. I want you to know that you have every right to hate me Diana. But I know somewhere in your heart, you still love me. And I don't want that tiny flame to die out. And if letting you go is what will keep it burning, I'm ready. I'll let you go Diana". I swallowed hard and looked down at her. Her face was soaked in tears.

"Mr. Hamilton, the car is ready." The man in his 40s, with still-thick hair, looked serious when not smiling. As he stood up with the help of a cane, a pair of hands reached out to assist him. "Pamore is full of powerful figures. Take care of yourself after leaving the hospital, Mr. Hamilton." His words carried a hidden meaning. Dexter glanced at the young man calmly. "Your intelligence was accurate, Mr. Fulton. Mr. Jarvis didn't misjudge you, but I became one of your pawns."

The mayor smiles as he closes the little book that he brought with him. I pull my bride to me and take her lips in another passionate kiss. When I pull away, she smiles up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, “Hello, Mrs. Hamilton.” “Hello, husband.” She glances over at her mother, and I follow suit.

A week before proposal- "Mr. Hamilton may I have a couple of minutes of your time please?" I stepped into the Hamilton home just like I normally do with my Mom and Dad's home. I walked straight through the door, hugged Mrs Hamilton, got a lecture for calling her Mrs Hamilton and not Jo or Joanna and then asked where Mr Hamilton was. "Yes lad what's up?"