Empire 162

This chapter makes a quiet but clear adjustment to the story. Small choices and brief pauses point the plot in a new direction. The shift is steady, not loud, and it sets up what comes next.

A few actions and reactions stand out. A held-back answer, a quick decision, or a look that lingers changes how characters see each other. These beats feel small now but carry weight forward.

Emotions sit just under the surface. The tone shows doubt, hope, or pressure even when the words stay measured. What is not said guides the scene as much as what is spoken.

Earlier choices and old tensions shape how people act here. History does not repeat, but it limits and nudges. The present is easier to read when the past is kept in view.

Trust, distance, and leverage shift by degrees. Roles adjust, and the space between characters changes shape. By the end, connections are not exactly what they were.

Objects, gestures, and setting notes do quiet work. They mirror the mood and hint at motives. Paying attention to them clarifies what is at stake.

Short remarks, paused replies, and choices made too quickly point to what will matter soon. The chapter plants markers that future scenes will pick up.

A few sentences carry the heart of the scene. They show fear, resolve, or longing in simple words. These are the lines that will echo next chapter.

Chapter 162

“Mom! Mom! Help me!”

Milo wailed, his cries torn and desperate as he screamed for Brianna.

Panic surged through Brianna. She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Jotham from behind, putting all her strength into holding him back. “Jotham! What’s gotten into you today? Don’t take your anger out on our son! Are you really going to beat him over something so trivial?”

At last, after several harsh blows, Jotham’s rage began to ebb. He let go, and Brianna immediately scooped Milo into her embrace.

“There, there, darling, it’s all right. Mommy’s here… you’re safe now.”

The way Brianna coddled Milo left Jotham speechless with frustration.

His mother had been right–how could Brianna ever hope to raise Milo properly like this? If anything, Milo stood a better chance of turning out well under Ramona’s care.

Irritated, Jotham yanked off his tie and stalked off to the bathroom for a shower. He turned the water as cold as it would go, letting the chill bite at his skin until he was shivering, only then stepping out and hastily toweling off.

When Jotham came out, Brianna was waiting for him on the sofa.

After some comforting, Milo had been handed off to a maid and taken to bed. But Brianna’s anger hadn’t subsided.

Jotham had no interest in another argument. He changed clothes, intent on leaving.

“You’re not staying tonight?”

Brianna hadn’t expected him to just walk out; she jumped up and grabbed his arm.

“I have a meeting early tomorrow. It’s better if I get some rest at home,” Jotham replied icily.

“You’ve been cold to me for days. If you’re still angry, then let’s talk it out. Don’t just give me the silent treatment, and don’t take it out on Milo!”

Brianna’s words only stoked Jotham’s temper.

“Take it out on him? Milo’s a little tyrant because you never discipline him. My mother’s fallen ill from all the stress you’ve caused, and this house is a disaster. Tell me, who’s really at fault here? Me, or your refusal to do what’s right?”

“Jotham!” Brianna stared at him in disbelief. “How can you say that? Have you any

conscience left?”

She’d borne his child, endured years of blame from the Holts just to have a sliver of standing

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in this family, and now he pinned every problem on her?

“I’m done talking. I have a headache.”

Jotham pressed a hand to his brow. He had no desire to fight anymore.

But Brianna refused to let go. “You’re not leaving tonight. If you walk out that door, tomorrow Milo and I will be gone!”

“Stop this nonsense.”

“Fine, then I’ll go talk to your dad! Are we supposed to live apart for the rest of our lives?”

The more Jotham tried to end the confrontation, the more forceful Brianna became. She’d had enough. She spun on her heel, determined to find Griffin.

There was no way Jotham would let her drag his father into this. He grabbed her, pinning her in the corner. His grip was rough–so much so that Brianna winced from the pain in her waist.

She glared at him, defiant, but all Jotham could see in her face was something twisted and unrecognizable.

“I’ll stay.”

He spat out the words at last, cold and defeated, giving in.

But after that, he didn’t so much as touch her. He took off his jacket, fetched a blanket from the bedroom, and made up a bed for himself on the sofa.

It felt as if Brianna’s heart had shattered. Seeing him so indifferent, her pride couldn’t take another blow. She stormed off and slammed the bedroom door behind her.

Later that night, Jotham’s headache only grew worse. Sweat broke out across his skin. He opened his eyes, voice hoarse, and out of habit called out, “Ramona…”

Meanwhile, across town, Ramona was attending a business dinner for the Shepard family’s latest project. She’d brought Nova along, planning to make a brief appearance for the sake of courtesy, then slip away as soon as she had an excuse.

But the dinner had barely begun when Nova took a call and hurried out. No sooner had Nova left than Holden followed right after her.

Far down the hallway, away from the crowded dining room, Nova stood in a shadowy corner, nervously twisting the hem of her dress.

Suddenly, someone approached from behind. Before she could cry out, Holden clamped a hand over her mouth, trapping her against the wall.

“What’s got you so jumpy? Miss me already?” he whispered teasingly in her ear.

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Nova’s cheeks flushed bright red, but her eyes flashed with anger. “Mr. Covington, what exactly do you want from me?”

“Relax. The dinner was getting dull, so I thought we could get a little fresh air together.”

Holden lifted Nova’s chin with his bandaged hand, making a show of his supposed goodwill.

“Please, just leave me alone,” Nova said coldly, staring him down.

“What’s with the attitude? It’s not like I’ve done anything to you. Besides, you seemed to enjoy yourself last night, didn’t you?”

Holden leaned in, his words barely audible, but they sent shivers down Nova’s spine–shame mixing with fury.

The night before, after Holden had gotten injured saving Nova, his hand bled profusely.

Nova had wanted to take him to the hospital, but Holden absolutely refused. He insisted she tend to his wound herself, claiming he felt awful and that a hospital stay would cost her even

more money.

Nova knew Holden was just making things difficult, trying to get under her skin. Wanting to avoid more trouble, she’d agreed and taken him home to patch him up.

But if she’d known things would go this far, no matter how much he threatened or coerced her, no matter what it cost, she would never have agreed in the first place.

The scene closes, but its pressure does not. Something has shifted, and the next step will have to meet it. The feeling is unfinished on purpose.

Expect tighter tension and fewer safe options. Hidden truths may press forward. The path ahead should feel earned and a bit sharper. The source of thɪs content is find•novel.net

Which choice will echo the longest? Who revealed the most by saying the least? How might today’s restraint become tomorrow’s turning point?

Rules, memory, and the setting frame each decision. Inside that frame, even small moves gain size. The chapter belongs to its world as much as to its people.

With this chapter done, the story steps forward—quieter, clearer, and ready to show what those choices mean.