Chapter 349
Chapter 349:
“Is the Kensington fortune gone p>
“What about Arthur Sterling’s confession p>
Liam faltered. Skye stepped in front of him, her hand raised.
“My husband has been stabbed,” she announced, her voice ringing out. “He risked his life to save his grandmother. He is a hero. Please, give us space p>
She guided him to the waiting car, shielding him from the vultures.
Inside, Liam slumped against the seat, watching her with adoration.
“You defended me,” he whispered.
“I defended the narrative,” Skye thought, looking out the window.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Alistair.
Watching the news. That “hero” speech was Oscar-worthy. But I hate seeing you touch him. How is Julian?
Skye typed a reply under the cover of her purse.
Julian is stable. He asked for me. I’m going to him as soon as I drop the idiot off. Don’t be jealous. I’m just fattening the pig before the slaughter.
She looked over at Liam, who had closed his eyes, thinking he was safe.
Sleep well, Liam, she thought. Tomorrow, the bill comes due.
The morning sun hit Kensington Manor, but it brought no warmth.
The driveway was clogged with news vans.
Drones buzzed against the windows like angry hornets.
The fallout from the cemetery incident was swift. Mr. Winters had filed a lawsuit at 9:00 a.m.
Inside the manor, the mood was funereal.
Skye entered the temporary medical room that had been set up on the ground floor.
It smelled of rubbing alcohol and despair.
Liam lay in a hospital bed, hooked up to a heart monitor, his face pale and clammy against the white pillows.
He wasn’t drinking coffee; he was barely conscious, sipping water from a straw held by a nurse.
N𝗼 m𝗶ѕs𝘪𝗻𝘨 𝖼𝗵𝗮𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋𝘴 𝗈𝘯 𝗯𝘦𝘭ո𝘰v𝘦𝗹𝗌.сom
Beatrice had been wheeled into the room, her own portable oxygen tank hissing rhythmically beside her.
She looked like a corpse that had been propped up for a viewing.
“Drink,” Skye said, taking the water cup from the nurse and holding the straw to Liam’s lips.
Her motion was mechanical, devoid of affection.
Liam took a small sip and fell back against the pillows.
“How can you be so calm? We just lost the family legacy p>
“We lost a piece of jewelry,” Skye said, sitting in the visitor’s chair. “We kept the house. We kept your freedom p>
“Grandmother will never recover,” Liam said weakly. “That ring was her identity p>
“Her identity was built on theft and lies,” Skye said sharply. “Maybe it’s time she found a new one p>
The phone on the side table rang.
It was the landline—the private number only family and close associates knew.
Liam tried to reach for it, but hissed in pain.