Chapter 190

Steve’s Point of View

I stood before the massive gates of Robert Cross’s company, a monument that reflected his sheer influence and power.

I felt the cold air brush against my face as I contemplated the building, thinking about Jake’s words the man Jake claims set a trap for him. I sighed deeply, trying to push the doubts out of my head, then entered the company with hesitant steps.

I headed straight to the reception desk. There was a girl there, so I approached her and spoke in a tone I tried to make sound confident. "Hello, miss. May I meet with Mr. Robert Cross?"

She lifted her head with a formal smile. "Hello, sir. Do you have an appointment with him?"

"No, I don’t," I said seriously. "But it’s an urgent matter."

"I’m sorry," she apologized with a dry politeness. "You cannot meet him without a prior appointment."

I tried to persist, feeling a slight tension tingle at my fingertips. "Can you at least ask him?"

"No, sir," she replied firmly. "He has many meetings right now and is not available at all."

"Is there any way to meet him?" I asked with a quiet desperation.

She handed me a piece of paper and a pen. "Write your full name here and your phone number. If I can arrange an appointment for you, I’ll call you."

I took the pen and quickly recorded my name, surname, and number. I thanked her and left.

As I walked down the street, I felt a heavy weight in my chest; I don’t think Jake is telling the truth. Why would someone of Robert Cross’s status and power plant drugs on Jake? It doesn’t make any sense.

Suddenly, I remembered my sister, Julie. My heart constricted at her memory, and a burning lump formed in my throat. How I long to hold her, just as I did when we were children. I closed my eyes for a moment, summoning her laughter in my mind.

I wish time had frozen in those days, where I’d never have to part from her, I thought bitterly. I wiped my face, trying to gather my strength, and continued on my way, the pain of her absence wringing my heart.

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Don Morgan’s Point of View

I knocked on the door forcefully. The maid opened it, trembling. "Hello, sir... who are you?" she stammered.

I didn’t answer her. Instead, I shoved the door with my shoulder and walked in with a coldness that made her gasp in terror. "Sir... you can’t just enter like this!" she cried, rushing after me.

I walked with steady steps toward the hall and saw him there... slumped in his wheelchair like a lifeless corpse. "It’s alright, Nerda," Thomas said in his frail voice. "You may go."

I looked at him with biting sarcasm. "Dear, crippled Thomas... you can’t even stand up to greet me, can you?"

I headed toward him and sat on the luxurious sofa, crossing my legs with pride. "What brought you to my house, Morgan?" he asked, his eyes flashing with sparks.

"I came to visit and see how you suffer while you can’t walk," I said with a cold smile.

He exhaled in annoyance. "Enough of this. Tell me, what is the reason you’ve come to my house after all these years?"

I straightened my posture and spoke in a firm tone. "Your dear son, Robert, kidnapped my assistant, ’The Snake’."

Thomas laughed with a bitterness that shook his weak frame. "You thought Robert was a weak enemy, didn’t you, Morgan?"

"No, I didn’t think he was weak," I said, narrowing my eyes. "But I thought he was rational... yet it seems your son tends to be suicidal, just like you."

"It’s war," he replied with lethal coldness. "Everything is permitted."

"Since he kidnapped someone close to me," I said, malice dripping from my tone, "I will kidnap someone close to him."

Thomas smiled sarcastically, the wrinkles on his face deepening. "Don’t tell me you want to kidnap me, Morgan."

I laughed softly. "Of course not, Thomas. I know your son hates you."

His features tightened and he looked away, but he answered with wounded pride, "That’s good. I’m glad you know that."

"And his brother, Harold?" I asked insolently.

Thomas jerked in his chair and replied sharply, "Don’t even think about approaching him. I’m warning you!"

"Don’t worry," I said nonchalantly, inspecting my nails. "I know Robert has no family ties with his brother either."

"Then Robert has no one he loves," Thomas said, trying to end the conversation.

"I’ll search," I said mysteriously as I stood up. "Perhaps I’ll find someone... who knows."

"There is no one," he replied decisively. "My son Robert knows that love is a weakness."

I stopped at the door and turned to him. "I don’t think so. If he’s your son, he surely resembles you."

Thomas ended the dialogue with a hollow look, saying hoarsely, "Don’t talk as if you didn’t fall into the same trap I did, Morgan."

"At least I kept my legs, Thomas," I said with a cold, spiteful smile.

His face flushed with blood, and his hands trembled over the chair’s armrests. "You are the reason for this paralysis, Morgan," he said in a hateful tone.

"I wished for you to die," I said with lethal coldness. "But fate chose something uglier than death for you."

He shook his head with bitter irony, a glimmer of challenge shining in his sunken eyes. "But Violet didn’t love you... she always loved me."

My entire body stiffened, and I felt my blood boiling in my veins. "Don’t talk about her in front of me!" I screamed, my face flushed. "And never mention her name!"

He didn’t back down; instead, he continued to stab me with his words, watching my collapse with victory.

"Because she chose me... because she loved me... because she couldn’t find in you what she found in me."

I lost control completely. I pounced on him like a wild beast, circling his neck with my massive hands, squeezing with a force that turned his face blue. "Shut up, or I’ll kill you!" I hissed through gritted teeth.

Seeing the helplessness of his body under my hands, I suddenly released him, and his frail body slumped back into the chair. I left him struggling to catch his breath, coughing violently.

"You will always be like this, Morgan," he said in a faint voice, carrying an unextinguished sarcasm. "Always wanting to possess everything I own."

I adjusted my suit with coldness, regaining my frozen mask. "I don’t want what you possess, Thomas," I said, walking toward the door with heavy steps. "I only want to destroy you. And I will."