"You just wait for me at home, okay? I'll be back tonight to have dumplings with you and your grandparents."
With that, he turned and slid into the black Maybach.
The moment the car door closed, the warmth on his face vanished.
Julian.
Since you're in such a hurry to die,
I'll be happy to oblige.
In the top-floor conference room of the Clarke family tower, the long table was surrounded by shareholders in sharp business suits.
Their faces were grim as they whispered amongst themselves.
Seated to the left of the head chair was a young man.
He had a head of flashy silver hair and was dressed in an extravagant, studded leather jacket that was completely out of place in the serious corporate setting.
He had his feet propped up on the conference table, casually chewing gum with an air of insolent nonchalance.
This was Julian, Martin's only son.
"Gentlemen, no need to be so tense."
Julian blew a bubble and said with a smirk.
"My dear cousin is probably off whispering sweet nothings to some beauty under the moonlight right now."
"He's completely forgotten about the company."
"If we leave the Clarke family in his hands any longer, it'll end up belonging to the Harts!"
Several of the older shareholders exchanged uneasy glances. While they found Julian's demeanor inappropriate, the "evidence" he had presented was indeed alarming.
To mobilize so many resources for a woman was a cardinal sin in the business world.
"Julian, let's not be too hasty,"
one of the white-haired shareholders said, trying to mediate.
"Once Damien is back, we should hear his side of the story."
"His side?"
Julian sneered, dropping his feet from the table.
"What's there to explain? The financial reports are right here!"
"For that Grace woman, he ruined the Ward family and the Hart family, and he even managed to offend the Hale family!"
"He's let a woman cloud his judgment!"
"A man like that doesn't deserve to be in this position!"

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