Chapter 200

Chapter 200

Kris sat in the darkness of his penthouse, the only light coming from the dim streetlights outside and the occasional flicker from the TV he hadn't bothered to turn on.

He held a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, his fingers gripping the neck tightly like it was a neck he wanted to squeeze. Who's neck? He wasn't sure.

The bottle clinked against the glass table as he set it down and leaned back, eyes heavy but wide open. The doorbell rang.

He glared at the door, his jaw tightening. Whoever it was could turn right back around and leave. He

wasn't in the mood for visitors-especially not the fake-friendly neighbours who had come earlier, offering their "sympathies" when he knew they were only there to get some scoop to leak to the press.

He'd kicked them out, and then he'd turned off his phone to stop the endless flood of calls coming from acquaintances and business partners.

The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time. Kris's irritation flared. Whoever it was clearly didn't know how to take a hint.

"Go away," he muttered under his breath, though he knew they couldn't hear him.

But the ringing continued.

Gritting his teeth, he stood, dragging his feet toward the door. His head was spinning from the alcohol, and the weight of his emotions made each step feel like a struggle.

When he finally reached the door, he yanked it open with more force than necessary, ready to snap at whoever had the nerve to disturb him.

His anger ebbed slightly when he saw it was Alden standing there.

disappointment or relief I see on

walked into the living room,

an invitation and stepped inside,

eyes sweeping over the bottle

beer scattered around, and Kris's

the couch. "Your observation skills

the sarcasm, crossing his arms as he stood in the middle

Kris snorted. "I'm

even joke about that,

the bottle and pouring another drink. "How am I doing?"

guy with the worst mother in

down on the couch across from him, watching him carefully. "I can understand

but laced with raw emotion. He downed the whiskey and slammed the glass down on the table. "Your mom is a sweet angel who wouldn't hurt a fly. My mother? She's a murderer. She killed her own grandchild, Alden. My child. And apparently, she's involved in drug and human trafficking too." His voice broke, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "Don't tell me you understand, because

my unborn child, Alden. And I defended

firm. "Don't say that,

damn night. If I'd just believed her... if I hadn't been so stupid... my mother's goon wouldn't have found her on the street. He wouldn't have beaten her. We wouldn't have lost our

to say something, to tell him he wasn't to blame, but he knew it wouldn't make a difference. Kris was drowning in guilt,

room being the ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional

spoke again. "Have

snapped up, his expression filled with fury. "Why the hell would I do

lot of anger inside you right now. You need

made his blood boil. Alden glanced at his watch and sighed. "I'd stay and drink with you, but I've got a date with Luisa." Kris forced a small, bitter smile. "Go on then. At

you find?" Linda Miller asked the man standing in front of

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