Chapter 430
“No—Bella, you can’t— you can’t do this to me!” Charles screamed.
Panic shredded his voice. Minutes ago he’d been on the edge of everything he’d wanted. This couldn’t be the end.
He refused to accept it. He had sacrificed too much to get here — fought,
schemed, and clawed his way to the top.
He wasn’t about to lose everything now.
Bella’s face was a blade. “You kill my man and think you’ll walk away untouched p>
She spat. “Think you’re invincible? That the world spins for you p>
“Bella, please,” Charles croaked, clutching at air. “I have Guise’s will-inheritance. I’ll pay. Money will fix this. A billion—ten billion—anything. Just let me go p>
Her laugh was low and cruel. “Why should I hand you what’s mine? All that money will be mine once you’re dead. I only need your eyes and your fingerprints p>
“How do you-?” Charles gasped.
“I paid Mike,” Bella growled. “You think Mike’s on your side?” Her eyes were cold steel. “Now give me your eyes and your hands p>
“Take Paris,” Charles babbled, his voice raw with panic.
“Take the state and all the money – you don’t need my eyes or my fingerprints. I’ll sign everything over. Put it all in your name. I want nothing. Just leave me alive. Please p>
Regret hit him like ice; too late he understood the cost of his choices.
“No,” Bella said, voice cold and hard. “I don’t want your money, nor your state. I want Alex alive. Can you give me that p>
Charles went still, the color draining from his face.
“Then you’ll suffer for what you’ve done.” Bella’s voice had no softness left. “Cut his eyes, his hands, his tongue-but keep him alive p>
“No-no! Please, don’t!” Charles screamed, voice raw and ragged. “Please- please p>
The two bodyguards moved with machine precision: silent, efficient, pitiless.
They worked with surgical calm. Taking Charles eyes without anesthesia, cutting his hands and even cut his tongue.
They bound and cut just enough to leave a breathing corpse-powerless, humiliated.
A van door opened. They dumped Charles into the middle of a crowded street.
His blood-slicked body hit pavement.
“Help—” he tried to scream, but blood choked the sound. Nothing came out.
Phones rose like a tide. Faces leaned in to capture the spectacle. No one rushed; everyone filmed.
“Isn’t that Charles Kingston?” someone muttered. “The one who kills at the orphanage p>
The whispered accusations circled him. Hands held out phones instead of help. The crowd closed, hungry for scandal.
“No—” Charles sobbed, tears tangled with blood.
‘This is not the dream I wanted. This is not the life I wanted. Please-please p>
He had acted like a god and forgotten he was only a man.
A few hours later, Alfred Kingston sat in the hospital room, eyes glued to the screen. The live feed showed Charles Kingston on the pavement: blood everywhere, blind, without hands.
“This just in Charles Kingston was found in the street, blinded, tongueless, and missing both hands. He’s being rushed to the hospital and will be held for questioning in connection with the murders he’s accused of,” the anchor said, voice steady and clinical.
“Impossible,” Alfred whispered, the word hollow. “My son… how could this happen to my son p>
Jessica’s face went white. Her voice shook. “Please tell me that’s not our son, Alfred p>
A man stepped through the hospital doors — a preacher, calm and certain, not fitting the panic around him.
He introduced himself cleanly: “Mr. and Mrs. Kingston, my name is Daniel Brown. I came to preach p>
Alfred bristled. “We don’t want “
Daniel held up one hand, slow and deliberate. “Desire will lead you to destruction. Wealth is the seed of ruin. If you’d chosen kindness over greed, none of this would have happened p>
“Shut up. Get out of here,” Alfred snapped.
Daniel did not leave. He reached into his coat and produced a handgun.
The movement was too small to be theatrical and too real to ignore. “Bella promised me ten million dollars,” he said, voice flat. “With that, hundreds of poor children could be saved. They could be educated. For the good of the world p>
Jessica lurched forward, panic flaring. She fumbled for the nurse call button but her hands trembled and her fingers missed.
“No-no,” she cried.
Daniel moved closer to Alfred and pressed the gun against his forehead, as if making the point physically.
“You killed the poor. You killed Bella’s father. You ruined that whole family.” His eyes were ice.
“Do you think it’s fair that you can kill and not be touched? Do unto others as you wish done to you. This is justice, Alfred Kingston. I am its instrument p>
“If you plant only good seeds, only good things will grow in your life,” Daniel said, voice calm but steady. “But you planted evil too much, Alfred. And now, it’s come to collect p>
“No Alfred’s breath broke. Regret flooded his eyes like water behind glass.
He saw it all — every mistake, every selfish decision that had built his empire and destroyed his family.
There were a thousand ways I could’ve lived differently. I could’ve been a good governor. I could’ve ignored greed. I could’ve just… lived in peace with Jasmine and our grandchildren.
The gun fired.
The sound split the air like thunder in a closed room. Alfred’s eyes went wide- then empty. His body slumped onto the bed, lifeless.
Jessica screamed, raw and piercing. Daniel turned, unshaken, raised the gun again, and aimed at her head.
“May the Creator forgive you for your sins,” he said softly- and pulled the trigger.
Her cry died instantly. Blood hit the white sheets.
Down the hall, Charles Kingston was still strapped to the bed, hooked to machines.
Police officers stood beside him, one handcuff around his remaining wrist. The nurse’s voice cracked through the TV broadcast:
“Breaking news: Alfred and Jessica Kingston have been found dead in their
hospital suite. Both victims suffered gunshot wounds to the head p>
Charles’s world froze. His chest heaved; his throat worked uselessly, a mangled
sound escaping from what was left of his tongue.
“No-” he tried to scream, but it came out broken, guttural. “No p>
Tears mixed with blood at the corners of his mouth.
The officers looked away. Pity or disgust – he couldn’t tell. He only knew the
weight of ruin had crushed him completely.
Just a few years ago, he had everything – money, power, respect, a name people feared.
Now it was gone. His empire, his parents, his body all shattered.
“What did I do he rasped through mutilated breath. “What did I do p>
He screamed until his voice became nothing but air and agony. The past would
not rewind. The nightmare wouldn’t stop.
Across the city, Bella’s hands shook as she grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter.
She tore out the cork, poured recklessly, and drank straight from the glass as if it could wash the blood from her memories.
The wine burned her throat. For a moment, it blurred the edges of her grief — but only for a moment.
She raised the glass again, eyes glassy with tears, and whispered to no one:
“Raise the cup to drown my sorrow… but sorrow only deepens p>
“Miss Bella, I’ve brought the Guise inheritance,” the bodyguard said as he stepped in the hall. “Everything’s ready for transfer to your account p>
“Do it,” Bella replied, her tone flat and cold.
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned to the others, coordinating the transaction on a tablet as money quietly shifted hands and destinies.
But Bella’s thoughts weren’t on the numbers – they were miles away, replaying the last time she saw Alex.
She remembered the way he’d stood by the window, half in shadow, half in sunlight.
“Why don’t you just kill Charles?” she had asked him. “My father said you’re powerful enough to do it p>
Alex had smiled faintly, eyes distant.
“It’s complicated, Bella. There are things you don’t understand.” Then his tone softened. “But can you promise me one thing p>
She tilted her head. “What is it p>
“If Charles ever gets his hands on Guise’s inheritance,” Alex said slowly, “promise
me you’ll do something about that money p>
“Charles? Kill you?” Bella laughed,
shaking her head. “That’s impossible. Even my father couldn’t touch you you’re the last person he’d ever defeat.” s
“I’m serious,” Alex said, stepping closer. His voice lowered, almost pleading.
“You’re the only one I trust with this. Promise me p>
Bella’s confidence faltered under the weight of his gaze.
“Alright,” she said softly. “Tell me what you want me to do p>
Alex took her hand, his grip firm and warm. He leaned in, his breath brushing her
ear as he whispered a secret that froze her in place.
Her eyes widened. “That’s impossible,” she whispered.
Alex smiled faintly. “Not with your intelligence. If we pull this off, Bella, we can
change this entire country p>
She cupped his cheek tenderly, her thumb tracing the edge of his jaw. Her eyes shimmered with love and unspoken devotion.
“I’ll do anything for you, Alex,” she whispered, voice trembling like a vow.
Time seemed to stop. The air thickened around them, humming with the pull of something larger than either of them.
Every heartbeat felt synchronized — her breath, his gaze, the gravity that drew them closer.
Then she leaned in, and their lips met — slow, deep, inevitable.
It wasn’t just a kiss. It was surrender. A silent promise that whatever came next,
their souls were already bound.
On the Governor’s estate in Paris, Sophia stood motionless, her hands trembling
as the secretary spoke in a careful, professional tone.
“I’m sorry, Miss Sophia,” the woman said quietly, eyes downcast. “We’ve just
received confirmation from Vancouver General Hospital p>
She hesitated, then continued. “Alexander Leonhart is dead. The suspect is Charles Kingston. If the
will is validated in his name, your position as Governor of Paris may
be compromised s
Sophia’s breath caught. For a long moment, she didn’t move, didn’t blink The world had gone
except for the echo of that name
Alexander Leonhart. s
Dead.
The word felt unreal.