Chapter 102 Stop Messing Around Eden
DAVID
The early morning light filtered through my bedroom window, casting golden streaks across the polished floor. I leaned against the edge of my desk, my phone cradled in my hand as I dialed the Chief of Police. The weight of my plans hung heavy in the room, though my resolve was unshakable.
He picked up on the second ring.
"David," his voice carried a mixture of warmth and curiosity, "It’s been a while. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me."
"I’ve been busy," I replied, my tone sharp and direct. "But I have something for you a name you’ve been waiting for."
"Oh?" His interest peaked instantly. "Who might that be?"
"Desmond Stefan," I said, savoring the silence that followed.
"Desmond Stefan? Are you sure about this?" His voice dropped, cautious now. "He’s not just some ordinary man. He’s a powerful lawyer, David. We can’t touch him unless.."
"Unless you have evidence," I interrupted, my voice colder than the early morning breeze. "I have everything you need. Enough to bury him for good."
There was a pause, then a shift in his tone a hint of excitement mingled with disbelief. "If that’s true, David, then you’ve done what we couldn’t for years. Where is he?"
"Right here, under my roof," I said, glancing out the window at the sprawling grounds of my estate. "Send your men. I’ll make sure he doesn’t leave before they arrive."
"You’re one step ahead of us as always," he chuckled.
"And one more thing," I added, my voice firm. "Paul Baskin. He’s innocent, and you’re going to release him."
"Paul?" He hesitated. "You mean the man accused of killing Clara?"
"Yes. Desmond is the real killer, and I have proof to back it up. Paul has suffered enough."
The Chief exhaled heavily. "If your evidence checks out, consider it done."
I ended the call, my grip tightening around the phone as satisfaction coursed through me. Desmond thought he could outplay me, but he underestimated how far I’d go to protect what’s mine.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. John stepped in, his expression as neutral as ever.
"Sir, the police have arrived. Should we hand Desmond over now?"
"Yes," I said simply, my gaze locked on the commotion unfolding outside.
From my vantage point, I could see the officers dragging a struggling Desmond toward their car. His shouts echoed across the estate, threats and curses spilling from his mouth like venom.
"You’ll regret this, David! You’ll pay for this!" he bellowed, his face red with fury.
I smirked, watching the scene unfold. "I’m waiting," I muttered under my breath.
Minutes later, I was on the phone with the Chief again.
"Is it done?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.
"Yes, David. We have him. And as promised, Paul is being released. He’s still in the hospital, though. The doctors say he’s weak but stable."
"Good," I said, satisfaction lacing my tone. "Make sure he’s protected. I won’t let Desmond or anyone else get to him."
"Understood."
After ending the call, I dialed my assistant. "Meet me at the estate. We’re visiting Paul."
By the time we arrived at the hospital, the afternoon sun hung high, casting a warm glow over the city streets. Baskin sat beside me in the car, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap.
"Where are we going, sir?" he asked, his voice shaky.
"You’ll see," I replied, keeping my gaze fixed on the road ahead.
The hospital air was sterile and cold, a stark contrast to the emotions brewing inside me. As we stepped into the ward, Baskin froze in his tracks.
"Dad?" Paul’s voice rang out, filled with disbelief and raw emotion.
Baskin’s eyes widened as they landed on his son. "Paul!" he choked out, rushing forward.
The two men embraced, their tears flowing freely as years of pain and misunderstanding melted away. Paul’s words came in a rush, tumbling over each other.
"Dad, they cleared my name! They know I didn’t kill Clara! I.."
"I know, son," Baskin interrupted, his voice breaking. "I’m so sorry. I should’ve believed you. I should’ve fought harder."
Watching them, a strange warmth spread through me a rare feeling, one I hadn’t allowed myself to experience in years. I turned to leave, but Baskin’s voice stopped me.
"David," he said, kneeling before me. "Thank you. Thank you for saving my son. For fulfilling your promise. And… for sparing me after everything I’ve done to you."
I nodded, unwilling to delve into sentiment. "Spend time with your son," I said simply, before walking out of the ward.
"Where to next, sir?" my assistant asked as we stepped back into the car.
"To the prison," I said, a dark smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
The ride was quiet, but my mind was alive with thoughts. Eden wouldn’t see this coming.
When I entered the visitation room, Eden was already there, his hands cuffed to the table. He looked up, his expression twisting into a sneer.
"What do you want, David?"
"Is that how you greet your younger brother?" I asked, my tone mockingly light.
"I don’t want to see you," he spat.
"Too bad. I just came to let you know your plan to kill Bella failed."
His sneer faltered, replaced by a flicker of unease.
"Oh, and Desmond? He’s in prison now, just like you."
Eden’s face turned ashen.
"You should’ve known better than to come after me," I said, leaning closer. "I’m not the same David you used to push around."
"You think this ends here?" he hissed, his eyes burning with fury. "I have people on the outside. They’ll come for you."
I smirked, leaning back. "Maybe. But by the time they get to me, I’ll have raised your child to hate you. Imagine that, Eden your own son, trained to destroy everything you’ve ever built."
His composure cracked, his chair scraping against the floor as he lunged forward. "You wouldn’t dare!"
"Try me," I said, standing. "Reflect on your choices, brother. Or don’t. Either way, I win."
His shouts followed me out of the room, but they only fueled my satisfaction.
It was time to see Bella. Maybe, just maybe, she’d find it in her heart to forgive me.