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Amidst these conflicted thoughts, a subtle realization hits me; an undeniable truth that I've been avoiding begins to surface— am I just a sucker for punishment, or do I care about Tony a little more than I will admit to myself? Why do I keep doing all these crazy things when it comes to her?
The once-clear lines between duty and sentiment blur, and a knot tightens in my chest. It's an emotion I can't entirely dismiss, a sentiment that goes beyond the bounds of responsibility.
My family executed this egregious injustice toward the Ricardos, and they got no compensation. Yes, I went to prison for twelve years, but how did that help them?
I am trying to right a wrong perpetrated on people who did not deserve it. Our actions took away their breadwinner, the head of their household. I am just trying to make things right.
As I unlock the car door, I feel the weight of the world upon my shoulders. Where do the weary hearts go to rest?
Chapter twenty-one
TANGLED TIES OF ARISTOCRACY.
LIAM
My father and I are butting heads again. It is getting old, but it seems the only thing that will put the warring between Dad and me is me giving up on the African project. Wait until you see pigs flying, Dad. I do not need your permission or blessing.
The Dexters were powerful way before we became “nobility” by association. Noah, my brother, is married to the stunning Beverly Knightleigh, a supermodel of English nobility and a definite head-turner.
She is the only daughter of Sir Reginald Knightleigh, a powerful entity in England, originally from South Devon, in the English meadows, but currently a permanent resident of Clifton in South Africa.
The connection between our families isn't just one of matrimonial convenience; it's a lifeline intricately woven with threads of business, power, and survival, at least on the Dexter side.
Beverly's father is a man of notable distinction. His knighthood, earned through a lifetime of service and cunning maneuvers, speaks volumes about his standing in English society; however, it's not just his accolades that make him a key player in the Dexter saga.
Sir Reginald has a vested interest in the diamond trade in South Africa, a facet of business that intimately intertwines with the expansive empire my father has built after taking the reins from his father twenty-one years ago. The intricate dance between the Dexter fortune and the Knightleigh nobility isn't merely a show of power; it's a symbiotic relationship where each family's success is intertwined with the other's prosperity.
The alliance between the Dexters and the Knightleighs isn't just about wealth or influence; it's a strategic marriage that forms the backbone of our financial stability.
The union between Noah and Beverly is more than a romantic gesture; it's a firm knot that binds our families together in a web of shared interests. The wealth of the Dexters is buoyed by the aristocratic connections of the Knightleighs, while the Knightleighs benefit from the expansive business reach of the Dexters.
My brother’s marriage to a Knightleigh was a cunning, almost diabolical strategic maneuver perpetrated by Dad to ensure the prosperity of his clan. Without the Knightleighs, the Dexters would lose a linchpin in their financial network, and the repercussions would be felt across every sector of our empire.
Noah’s marriage had nothing to do with meeting a girl in a bar or online, falling in love and proposing, like everybody else does, then getting married.
My father pointed at a picture, set the wedding date, and told Noah to appear, ring, suit, and marriage license in hand, ready to get married . . . and I went to prison.
In my father’s world, everyone must do as they are told for the good of the family.
Thank goodness Beverly turned out to be a shrewd choice, a strategic move, and a sight for sore eyes.
Chapter twenty-two
CAUGHT RED-HANDED.
LIAM
“Sabrina, get me Martin,” I cough into the intercom, a speck of dust irritating my throat, the big bust-up last night with my father still gnawing at me. Apparently, Sir Reginald Knightleigh had called Dad and expressed his feelings about my upcoming plans to set up a company in South Africa and “ruin his life,” my father had yelled and finished by saying that Sir Reginald Knightleigh had told him to put a stop to me “or else.”
“Or else” are not words my father is used to, and I would go out on a limb to say that very few people on this planet would get away with giving my Dad such ultimatums.
Well, that is another dragon to slay another day. Right now, I have another monster to kill, and this one has a timer on it. I have found a company in China I would like to do business with, but before I can enter into business with them, I must have certain authorizations signed and sealed before entering into a contract with MeiNeng Solar Energy Technology Co., Ltd.
Like I said, a dragon for another day.
Right now, I stand with Martin in my “production corner,” my eyes fixed on the documents splayed across the conference table. They're the false blueprints we've carefully crafted, bait for the mole who's been feeding our trade secrets to the press.
Martin, with his cunning mind, has made sure every detail appears genuine – from the paper quality to the official company stamps, but if you look closely, you can spot subtle discrepancies: the erroneous project code, the outdated logo, and the faint watermark that only appears under black light. These breadcrumbs are crucial for later when we expose the mole.
