Sweet Subterfuge

Sitting at the main head table were the three Rogers brothers and their sons. The women and grandchildren were arranged to sit at the next head table close by.

The moment Kevan got closer, Anthony stood up and waved at him, “Kevan, here!”

The gazes of everyone else at the table only fell on him then.

There was an empty seat next to Anthony, which had clearly been left for Kevan.

Kevan did not take his seat at once but went over to Bemard to give him the prepared gill. “Happy birthday. Uncle Bernard.” Kevan smiled faintly, his voice hac a rare trace of gentleness when faced with all these people he was always good with pulling superficial

performances, even during the years in which the relationship of his side and theirs was at its most strained. He never did anything that could allow anyone to hold leverage over him when it came to public and social settings.

colder to his family

displeasure to Kevan as he usually did. Instead, he laughed joyfully as he hugged the exquisite wooden box, and his crow’s feet deepened when he felt

his fe depended on it, but he was very unbearable

table demanded. “You gave him liquor?!” Her voice was quite loud, and

froze on his face

smiling and turned to look

drink!” Maria glared at Kevan angrily. hatred burning in her garr as if Kevan was a murderer who enjoyed taking the lives

Kevan, Bernard was just an arrogant loser who used to live off his parents, and now lived off his son. Although he had big ambitions, he could not make

did not show it. He apologized politely before discussing

“Let me lake it home as a

did instruct him to not drink too much-but this was “not too much. Having an occasional cup or two was fine. He glanced at his wile over at the other table and grumbled to himself internally. “This st upid bi tch,