In the study room.

Frederick had taken off his black suit and slung it over his arm, revealing a chunk of sturdy wheat–coloured skin inside his white shirt, the first two buttons undone.

He was always indescribably handsome, especially at the moment, his divine face laden with a raw, aggressive edge.

Even in the presence of his own father, he didn’t tone down his distinctive traits.

Powell tapped his cane and sat down, voice stern, “Sit.”

Frederick strolled over, hands in his pockets, and slouched into the couch across from Powell, staying silent, not even willing to address him as “Dad.

Powell sighed, disappointment flashing in his dark eyes as he looked at Frederick.

“You bring home a not–good–looking woman just to piss me off? I know you resent me for leaving you and your mother. But Maurice is innocent. Giving him half of the company’s shares was my decision, and it has nothing to do with him. I don’t want you two brothers hurting each other. Over the years, I’ve tried to balance between you two. I wanted to make up for what you lost back then, but I also couldn’t ignore him. That’s why I wanted you two to take turns running the company, supporting each other.”

Frederick didn’t listen to Powell’s good advice. He opened his eyes lazily and said outright.

What he wants is to take my place. I think you know that better

no comeback. As their father, how could he not know

could

between Frederick and Maurice had reached an irreconcilable point, and Powell

took a sip of his coffee,

a major aristocracy before I took over, but it wasn’t famous in the business

and intelligent, his words sharp, almost reminding that without him, the Winston Group wouldn’t have

Winston Group was struggling, but Frederick was flourishing. He was willing to help out

proposed two conditions

his mother return to the

wanted to control the Winston Group

and lit a cigarette in

is doing well and unmatched, you want Maurice to take the credit?

Powell’s

seemingly calm kid had

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