As the butler deliberated on the best response to appease Asher, a man hurriedly approached from the side, clutching a smartphone. "Young Master, it's the Boss on the phone."

Asher's pupils shrank, his breath coming in strained gasps. He swallowed hard, his hand trembling as he picked up the incessantly vibrating phone. The second he pressed the answer button, Oliver's furious roar blasted clearly into everyone's ears. "You bloody fool! What have you done?"

"I, I, I just wanted to capture Vivienne back. Dad, I..."

A man in his thirties, Asher believed he hadn't felt this cloak of fear enveloping his heart since reaching adulthood, leaving him stammering, devoid of any spirit to fight back. Even guilt crept in. "Capture Vivienne, huh? Great, just great..." Oliver was panting heavily over the phone, and faintly, the soothing voice of a woman could be heard.

The sound of porcelain shattering clattered in his ears, and it was about five minutes later that Oliver, through gritted teeth and with venom in his voice, said, "Asher, have you lost your damn mind? A girl with no title, no status, and you're squabbling with her? You, get your ass back here now! Look at the mess you've made; how did I ever sire such a disappointment?"

Asher's heart skipped a beat. "Dad, what on earth happened? What did Vivienne do?"

"What did she do?" Oliver scoffed. "The Grimshaw family crypt has been desecrated, you tell me what happened? Asher, I'm telling you! You better pray your mother's urn can be found. Otherwise, forget about being the heir to this family!"

A chill ran through Asher.

Found?

Where could he possibly search?

The sound of the white porcelain urn shattering seemed to echo once again in his ears.

of the settling dust, he remembered staring at

inside him at that moment had vanished without a

dirt, a throbbing pain shot through him, unsure which part was his mother's

viciously stomped on every patch of white. Even now, the soles of his shoes bore the residue of those

search? Was he supposed to bring

vision

finally settling

fear, "What's the use of blaming me? Vivienne is the thief, Dad! Instead of lecturing

course, even if she were found, the chances of retrieving the stolen items were

his sides shaking uncontrollably, "Dad, I was just

need you to teach me

crack sounded

are you doing? If you've got something to say, speak up. You're about to smash all

gentle voice was soothing to the

but tremble, feeling that if he were in front of Oliver, the vase would surely be aimed at his

but Oliver's cold snort cut him off. "I seriously doubt your mother had any brains left when she had you! How did she manage to give birth to such a towering idiot without a shred of sense? Wasn't last time embarrassing enough for

He only

now was not the time for a fallout with the Perez family over a deceased relative. Yet the

Vivienne!

vindictive little creature

a blatant provocation of the

make matters worse, he couldn't find any evidence to

his foolish son to blame. None of this would have happened if he hadn't meddled. How could it have

to refute. Or rather, he didn't dare say

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