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Brock’s head spun as he cupped his stinging cheek. The stars danced before his eyes. Never in his life had anyone laid a hand on him, let alone his own father, “Dad.” he stammered.
“Don’t ‘Dad‘ me,” James cut him off, his resolve unwavering. “If you can’t show they
a son.”
respect to Mrs. Lloyd, I might as well not have
James wasn’t blind. He’d seen the way Stephen doted on Eleanor It explained his lingering presence at the doorway earlier. The situation was clear. If they couldn’t force Brock to back down and smooth things over with Stephen today, the Byron family might as well start drafting bankruptcy papers come morning.
But Brock, caught in the storm of teenage pride, saw things differently. The thought of humiliating himself in front of Eleanor was worse than death itself. “You… I won’t!” he growled and then bolted out the door.
“You ungrateful brat, get back here!” James yelled, attempting to chase after him. But by the time he reached the door, Brock had vanished. James muttered under his breath, “That damn kid…”
Stephen’s gaze turned sharp, his good mood evaporating instantly. His earlier contentment had stemmed purely from Eleanor’s confession of liking him. Regardless of its sincerity, those words had been music to his ears.
Now, with someone else coveting his girl, Stephen felt a murderous rage building inside him.
James wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. His instincts screamed that whatever was about to unfold would be more than he could handle. He had to save himself. He couldn’t let his family’s legacy end with him.
James swallowed his fear and hunched over, pleading with Stephen, “Mr. Lloyd, it’s my fault for failing to raise that son properly. I promise, I’ll pack that boy off to a military school abroad tonight. He won’t set foot in this country for at least three to five years. This lady won’t hear a peep from him, I swear.”
Though old enough to be Stephen’s father, James felt like a child next to Stephen. Stephen’s presence was crushing, making James want to call him “Sir” instead.
Stephen’s cold demeanor didn’t soften one bit. He raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Three to five years?” It was clear he found this timeline unsatisfactory.
James, quick to pick up on Stephen’s displeasure, hastily continued, “Don’t worry, Mr. Lloyd. It’s not set in stone. I’ll use that time to expand our business overseas, keep him busy. If he tries to come back, I’ll hire bodyguards… No, special forces to shadow his every move. If he so much as thinks about this lady, they’ll break his legs–all three of them.”
‘Three legs?‘ Eleanor was stunned. ‘Brock’s dad surely knows how to survive in this situation.”
Surprisingly, his tactic seemed to work. Stephen’s expression softened slightly, and he gave a noncommittal “Mm“, as if begrudgingly accepting the proposal.
To James, that simple “Hmm” was music to his ears. He could have kissed the ground in relief.
Stephen ignored the now–sweating James and turned his attention to Eleanor. His voice remained cool, yet carried a hint of warmth. “Let’s go. I’ll drive you home.”
Eleanor adjusted her backpack straps and tried to sidestep him. “Thanks, but I’ll just grab an Uber.”
Every time she heard Stephen speak, her mind flashed back to the embarrassing words she’d blurted out earlier. The memory made her cringe inwardly. Sharing a car with him now would make her want to kill him. She was still young hadn’t even started college or won her first Oscar. The last thing she needed was to end up in prison.
and
Eleanor felt a wave of relief as Stephen surprisingly made no move to stop her when she shouldered her backpack to leave. But before she could make it more than a few steps, a deep voice cut through the air. “Mr. Byron, this private room has
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security cameras, right? Could you send me a copy of the footage?”
James quickly responded, “Yes, of course. I’ll contact security right away.”
Eleanor froze in her tracks, gritting her teeth. “That sneaky son of a-
Stephen’s request for the footage was a thinly veiled threat. Eleanor knew he’d use every word she’d said against her with her family. She’d be in hot water, no matter how she tried to explain it away.
“Are you threatening me?” Eleanor spun around to face him, her cheeks puffed out in anger.
Stephen seemed oblivious to her anger and explained matter–of–factly, “Threaten you? The Lloyd family and the Byron family are business partners. It’s perfectly normal for us to be aware of each other’s operations, including checking security footage. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Byron?”
James wouldn’t dare disagree. He nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, exactly! It’s understandable that this young lady isn’t familiar with our business practices. We always review security footage before signing any contracts.”
Eleanor was speechless. ‘Yeah, right. As if I’d believe that nonsense.”
While Eleanor had never been a CEO herself, she had played numerous roles in workplace dramas in her previous life and had experienced various company environments. She knew enough basic business theory to realize that no one checked security footage before signing contracts.
‘Did they really think I am that stupid?‘ Eleanor rolled her eyes.
Stephen glanced at her calmly and urged, “Mr. Byron, I’m on a tight schedule. I have a video conference coming up. Please check the security footage quickly.”
“Right away, Mr. Lloyd,” James replied.
Eleanor, nearly gritting her teeth, interjected, “No need for all that trouble. You can just drive me back.” She figured if she had a free chauffeur, she might as well use him. It didn’t matter if it was awkward. As long as she didn’t feel embarrassed, the discomfort would be his problem.
Stephen’s expression softened considerably at this.
However, at that moment, his eyes suddenly caught sight of a small gift box on the table. It wasn’t particularly large, just long and narrow, wrapped in the kind of tacky decorative paper you’d get at a cheap shop. As he recalled Eleanor’s earlier “happy birthday” wish, the nature of this object became obvious.
Stephen flexed his fingers and strode over to pick up the small box. He tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a pen case.
Inside was a silver–gray fountain pen. It wasn’t particularly elegant or beautiful, just ordinary.
But Stephen wanted it. His body moved faster than his thoughts. Before he knew it, the pen was already tucked away in his suit pocket. He then pulled out his own gold pen–the one he’d been using earlier, all shiny and ostentatious–and tossed it into the box.
“You…” Eleanor frowned as she watched his actions. “That was Brock’s birthday gift”
Her words only made Stephen’s expression turn even colder. “You got this for him?” he asked, his voice sharp as ice.
Eleanor was about to nod when a hurried, loud voice cut in. “Heh! As if my good–for–nothing son could write! With his level of education, giving him a pen would be a waste. Mr. Lloyd, you should keep it. That silver–gray pen suits you much better anyway.”
Eleanor was left speechless.
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Even Oscar, who had been standing quietly to the side like a quail, couldn’t help but give a thumbs up, thinking that James‘ butt–kissing skills were even better than his own.
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