The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 415

Alfred Kingston sat at the long dining table with his wife Jessica and their daughter Jasmine.

The weight in the air was heavier than the plates before them.

“Jasmine,” Alfred said, “I’m lifting your house arrest. You’ll return to Vancouver, and from now on, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

“Your brother is working with his friend from Los Angeles. You’ll open the mining agreement in Vancouver for them.”

Jasmine fork slipped from her hand and clattered against the plate.

“Father, this is wrong. If you hand the mine over to those people, Vancouver will lose everything. Our revenues will collapse.”

“That isn’t our concern,” Alfred snapped. “Just follow my orders. They’ve promised Charles thirty percent of the profits—without us lifting a finger.”

“Father,” Jasmine pleaded, “without them, Vancouver’s government still keeps fifty percent of the profit—money that belongs to the people.”

“If you give the mine away, Charles may take thirty, but his friends will steal another twenty. The people will lose everything.”

Alfred’s voice grew heavy, ruthless.

“We are the people, Jasmine. Your brother is the people. He deserves that thirty percent far more than strangers you’ve never met. You are the governor—so make it happen. Do it for our family.”

Jasmine eyes shimmered with tears. “Father, please. You weren’t always like this. You used to be a loving father, a governor who cared for his citizens. When did you change?”

Alfred leaned forward. “I haven’t changed. I am still a loving father and a good governor. It’s you who has changed, Jasmine. You’re blinded by your feelings for Alex. You’ve stepped onto the wrong path.”

Tears filled Jasmine’s eyes, her voice breaking with fury. “Father, how can you call yourself a good governor when all you do is strike deals with the elites and stuff your pockets with their money—stealing what rightfully belongs to the people?”

“You won’t even meet with the loyalists of the old government. Instead, you pressure them, crush them—and now you’re ordering their deaths!”

“If they don’t agree with me, then they can leave Los Angeles,” Alfred said coldly. “Why should they stay?”

“They are your citizens!” Jasmine shouted.

“You can’t slaughter everyone who disagrees with you. That makes you a tyrant. You once taught me that a good governor protects his people.”

“Jasmine,” Jessica cut in, “Vancouver is a small and poor state. Los Angeles is five times larger, five times richer. It takes a different hand to rule here. You cannot satisfy everyone. As long as the majority is content, that is enough.”

“What majority?!” Jasmine’s voice breaking. “All I see is you and Father hoarding wealth from a small circle of elites. You compromise with criminals and add to your fortune in the shadows. Everyone knows it!”

“Watch your mouth!” Jessica’s voice lashed like a whip. “The statistics show your father is an excellent governor. Everything has improved under his leadership.”

Jasmine pushed back her chair and stood.

“Do you think I don’t know you pay those so-called statisticians, that you buy the news to polish his image?”

“If people stepped into Los Angeles and saw past the polished lies, they’d find the truth—poverty hidden behind your glittering numbers, the poor sinking deeper into despair. Don’t you see how much they suffer?”

Alfred’s voice was sharp as a blade. “They’re nothing but garbage that needs to be cleared out. Once they’re gone, Los Angeles will be clean, safe, and beautiful.”

Jasmine froze. “So killing the poor is your solution?” Her voice trembled in disbelief.

Jessica shrugged. “If that’s what it takes, why not? They’re poor, they’re useless, they contribute nothing. Just wasting the air the rest of us breathe. Better they hurry to heaven.”

Tears welled in Jasmine’s eyes. “Father, Mother… I don’t even recognize you anymore. People say money changes people. Now I see it’s true. Wealth has destroyed everything good in you.”

Jessica leaned forward. “You should take lessons from your brother. He started with nothing, and now he’s on his way to fortune—because he made friends with Gilbert. Soon he’ll inherit everything Gilbert owns. That’s success you’ll never achieve in your lifetime.”

“Mother,” Jasmine’s voice breaking with anger, “that money is tainted. Don’t you know how the Guise family made their fortune?”

“They stole from the poor, crushed them, ruined lives. Any person with a shred of morality would never touch that blood money. And now my brother is trying to seize it by killing Alex?”

Her eyes blurred with tears.

She couldn’t understand when her family had turned into people who worshipped nothing but money, abandoning all decency.

Alfred chuckled darkly. “Do you realize hundreds die in Los Angeles every single day? Car accidents, hospital beds, the streets. They’re just statistics. And Alex? He’s just another number. If his death brings us billions, why hesitate?”

“Father,” Jasmine’s steadying her voice, “as your daughter, I warn you—don’t touch Alex. If you do, you’ll bring a disaster on this family that you can’t escape.”

Alfred slammed his hand down on the table. Plates rattled, glasses trembled, food shook across the cloth. His face twisted with fury.

“Jasmine, I’ve tolerated your defiance long enough. Every killer we’ve sent after Alex has been cut down by your soldiers. If you weren’t protecting him, do you think he’d still be alive?”

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