Chapter 67

Owen At first I couldn’t believe it. But when he actually spoke the words — when Hamilton asked if my son was dead, the shock went beyond disbelief and dug into something raw. Why would Hamilton wish harm on my boy? He hadn’t done anything to deserve that. Nothing. It made no sense. The same man who’d grown up beside me, the one who’d once saved me from bandits, the man I called friend — how could he now plot my son’s death? The memory of past favors only made the betrayal sharper. And yet the words were there; the intent was clear. I cut off all dealings with him straightaway. Thank God I’d recorded the call — proof I could use when the time came to settle this properly. How dare he. Only yesterday his daughters had caused a scene at my son’s wedding; today Hamilton wanted Osborne dead — my heir. I picked up the phone and called Benson, my beta. He answered immediately. “Sir, as you said — it’s done,” he reported. “Good,” I said, hard. “No one in this world pulls a stunt like tha