Larissa Judson and Haskell Palmer novel Chapter 627

Paxton watched the video on his phone. His wife, kneeling on the ground, eating a dog’s leftovers, drinking pig slop. The sight of her, so utterly debased, turned his initial flicker of pity into disgust.

He had hesitated to sacrifice his wife, but his resolve had hardened during the few days they had sought refuge with Vivica’s family. Vivica’s bro and his family, seeing Paxton’s fall from grace, had kicked them while they were down, allowing their own son to insult them repeatedly.

There was a limit to what a man could endure.

He wouldn’t stay down forever. Once he regained his power within the Judson family, he would crush the Caldwells and make them pay for their arrogance. And Vivica, his useless wife and a member of that wretched family, could finally do something to help him. Her life would be her final contribution.

After finishing the video, Paxton lit a cigarette. Now he had to figure out how to get into the Judson estate on the day of his monstrous daughter’s birthday party. If only he could get a look at the guest list.

Sapphira’s family, the Turners, would surely be invited. And so will Haskell, Zoltan, and probably that girl Avril, who had been getting close to Larissa lately. Then there were the people from Spire Village: Zendar, Luther, Kimberly. As for the Dillon family… that boy was her ex-boyfriend and a troublemaker. Larissa wouldn't invite him.

He wracked his brain but couldn't think of anyone who could get him an invitation. He’d have to ask the Lincoln family if they had a way.

...

The next day at Starlight Media, Larissa and her five mysterious new hires put the finishing touches on her new songs and music videos. As they wrapped up, her secretary, Ursa, hurried over.

Back in the office, Larissa had just sat down when Ursa approached her desk.

“Ms. Judson, someone started a poll on Twitter, pitting your new music against Leopold’s. They’re asking who people think will be more popular and get more paid downloads.”

...

Back in the main office, Ursa’s colleagues swarmed her. “Did you hear Ms. Judson’s new songs? What are they like? Do you think she can beat Leopold?”

Ursa shook her head. “I have no idea. Ms. Judson and that new crew she brought in handled the entire recording process themselves. I haven’t heard a single note.”

“Not even you?” one coworker said, disappointed.

“If the songs are as good as the one she improvised at her welcome banquet, she’ll be fine,” another chimed in. “But I’m worried that was just a marketing stunt. What if that song was prepared in advance to humiliate the adopted daughter?”