“Alex, do you know Charles Kingston?” Josephine asked, her face bright with a mix of hope and happiness.
Before Alex could respond, Charles cut in quickly. “Jo, this man once treated my little sister, Jasmine Kingston. That’s how we know each other.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed.
“Charles Kingston,” he said slowly. “I don’t know what scam you’re running, but you’d better stay the hell away from Josephine.”
“Alex! What are you doing?” Josephine snapped, startled by his sudden hostility.
“Believe me, Josephine,” Alex’s voice low and hard. “This man is up to no good.”
Charles reached for Josephine, his face drawn with exhaustion and quiet despair.
“Josephine, I told you—no one believes me,” he said, voice breaking. “Everyone hates me for things I didn’t even do. Please… just let me go, before they turn on you too. Ever since I was born with the Kingston name, I’ve been treated like a criminal for sins I never committed.”
“No! I always believe in you,” Josephine clutched his hand tightly.
“Alex, listen to me. Charles Kingston isn’t the monster people make him out to be. He’s not what they show on television or in the papers. He’s been misunderstood by everyone. He’s good inside. Kind.”
Josephine stepped to Alex’s side and took his hand, her eyes locking with his. “Alex, I know you have a good and kind heart. You’ll understand if you open it and listen to me.”
Alex drew a long breath, staring at Charles. He wanted this man gone from the earth.
Yet Charles was Jasmine’s brother. Alfred had once made heavy contributions. And now Josephine… Josephine was drawn to him, just like Sophia had been in the past.
“I’m listening,” Alex said at last, forcing patience into his voice.
“Alex,” Josephine began, “many years ago, Charles was almost kidnapped by Alfred’s enemies. He escaped into the slums and ended up in an orphanage. That’s where he met me.”
Her voice softened, her eyes distant as memories surfaced. “He stayed with me when he was just eight years old. I’ll never forget that. But then his father finally found him and took him back.”
Alex knew that story. It was his story with Josephine. He wanted to say, “That man is me.” But would Josephine believe him now?
“A few months ago,” Josephine continued, her voice trembling, “after Jasmine Kingston seized Vancouver by force, she started framing Charles for crimes he never committed.”
“Everyone in the city turned against him. His own parents threw him out and told the whole of Vancouver he was a disgrace.”
“He lost everything—his home, his name, his dignity—and ended up living on the streets. But somehow, by God’s mercy, we found each other again.”
Charles looked at Josephine, his eyes wet. As she held Alex’s hand, Charles grabbed her other hand and pulled her into an embrace
“That time, I lost everything,” he said hoarsely. “I had no money, no life, nothing. Thank God you came to save me, Josephine. For the second time. God is good for letting us meet again.”
“After that,” Josephine said, her cheeks turning red. “We became a couple.”
“This was all written in the stars,” Charles murmured as he wrapped his arms around Josephine, his eyes cutting toward Alex with sharp, deliberate defiance.
In the past, Charles had despised Alex.
He’d tried everything to bring him down—hiring detectives, digging into everyone close to him, hunting for weaknesses.
One of the women who caught his attention during that search was Josephine. She was poor, from an orphanage, yet her beauty was disarming—raw and magnetic.
Charles had been drawn to her for a long time, obsessed even, thinking about how to make her his.
He’d learned from his private investigator that Josephine once spoke to the orphanage children about her first love—someone from her childhood.
That detail burned into Charles’s mind.
So months ago when he lost everything—his business, his fortune, his name—and found himself homeless, fate brought him face-to-face with Josephine again.
She was on the streets, sharing food with the poor. And Charles saw his chance.
He needed her. Not just for comfort—but as a weapon. A way to strike Alex where it hurt most.
Now, with Los Angeles in chaos and the Kingston family under fire—everyone blaming Alfred Kingston and his bloodline—Charles had to disappear.
And he knew Josephine’s place was safe. A perfect hiding spot. A perfect opportunity.
“Josephine,” Charles said, putting on a sorrowful face, his voice trembling with practiced pain.
“You know my sister, Jasmine—she hates me. I saw her order her guards to shoot our own parents. She’s not the same anymore. Power and money have turned her into something else.”
He turned to Alex. “And Alex here… he’s close to Jasmine. He’ll report me the moment he can.”
Josephine’s gaze flicked toward Alex. “Alex, what Jasmine’s doing isn’t right. Charles needs protection. I’m asking you—please, let him stay here.”
Alex stared into Josephine’s pleading eyes. She never begged for anything, never lowered herself like this.
It tore at him. His chest felt tight, his thoughts a blur of regret.
He cursed himself silently. He should’ve told her earlier. He should’ve said that the man she once loved in the orphanage… was him.
But now, it wouldn’t matter.
Josephine was good. Too good.
And like the old saying went—good girls were drawn to bad men. And the good guys? They were destined to watch from the sidelines, alone.
“Josephine,” Alex said finally, his voice strained but steady. “I’m sorry. He can’t stay here.”
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