Once soone initiated it, a ripple effect followed.
One by one, the rest followed suit, hastily scribbling their signatures, their resistance crumbling under the weight of the inevitability.
Aiden didn't stay to watch the process. Turning on his heels, he cast Emyr a single look.
"Handle it."
With that, he strode out of the boardroom.
After a while …
Aiden sat in his office, reviewing a stack of docunts, his sharp eyes scanning through the figures and contracts with practiced efficiency, when soone interrupted his focus.
Knock. Knock.
"Co in," he affird, and the next mont, the door was pushed open, and Emyr stepped inside, his expression a mix of satisfaction and tension.
He approached the desk, placing a file in front of Aiden.
"They have all signed their resignations," he reported, his voice professional as always. But then, after a brief pause, he added, "Except … Mr. Dickens."
Aiden slowly raised his gaze at him, smooth but sharp as a blade.
Emyr continued, "He seems to believe he still holds a way out. He refused to sign and left the building."
Aiden leaned back slightly, his fingers idly tapping against the polished wood of his desk. His expression remained unreadable, but the slight narrowing of his eyes sent a chill through the air.
"If he thinks he still has a way out," he mused, his tone dangerously calm, "Then let him seek it … and regret it."
Emyr didn't doubt the inevitable. He knew what consequences awaited the ones who dared challenge his boss.
Aiden shifted his focus, his gaze darkening slightly.
"How is the progress on the other matter I asked you to handle?"
Emyr didn't need the clarification —he knew exactly what task Aiden was referring to.
"We are on it," he replied. "Our n have already started buying shares under various nas. We have secured a majority from the minor shareholders. We just need another two percent, and we can make the move easily."
Aiden nodded; his expression was hard to read. "Do it quietly. Don't let anyone know."
Emyr gave a curt nod.
As he waited for further instructions, Aiden glanced at his watch. His brows furrowed as he noticed the ti.
"The lunch hasn't arrived yet?" he asked.
And, even though that wasn't the first ti Aiden had asked about his al, Emyr still wasn't used to the change.
The boss he was familiar with had been a relentless workaholic, soone who could go entire days without eating, too engrossed in work to even acknowledge hunger. Yet, lately, since the day they have arrived in New York, his boss had been acting different.
He was acting as if having a al had suddenly beco a ritual … which he had to follow regardless of anything.
It was a positive change. And even though it would take ti for him to get used to it, he had no complaints.
Emyr hesitated briefly before responding. "No, sir. It should be here soon."
Aiden humd before looking back into the docunts he had been working on. "Let know when it arrives. You can go now."
***
anwhile, back in Cralens, at East Serenity Residence —
Brenda was sitting in the living hall when she saw Xander enter the house, followed by several house staff, each carrying a gift in their hands.
Her brows furrowed slightly. "What are these?" she asked, her tone carrying a hint of caution.
Xander turned to glance at the gifts before responding, "I went to deliver the photo album to young miss. While returning, she sent all this. Mr. Jones, the butler there, ntioned that it's a tradition in their family —the son-in-law must send gifts to his in-laws whenever they visit them."
Brenda's gaze swept over the neatly arranged items. One look, and she could already tell that each gift was more expensive than the last.
"Interesting," she muttered under her breath, her expression softening slightly.
Then, she looked back at Xander. "Did you deliver what you were supposed to?"
Xander nodded.
Seeing his response, Brenda grunted approvingly. "Good. You can take these in."
Xander gave her a respectful bow before gesturing for the staff to carry the gifts inside.
Just as they left, Margaret entered the hall. Her gaze caught Xander and the house staff carrying the nurous packages. Her eyes widened slightly.
"This …" she trailed off.
"Gifts to prove filial piety," Brenda said with a soft chuckle. "The Winslows gave this tradition in their family. I had heard it before, but today, I witnessed it firsthand."
Her gaze flickered, sothing unreadable passing through her eyes.
She pondered for a mont before tilting her chin slightly and glancing at Margaret.
"What do you think, Margaret? Do young people nowadays still follow traditions from the past?"
Margaret hesitated. She wasn't entirely sure where the old lady was going with this, but she could tell the question carried a deeper aning. Choosing her words carefully, she answered.
"Madam, while not everyone in this generation follows the traditions, there are families that instill their values deeply into their children. So young people do follow the customs, even in this day and age."
Brenda nodded slightly as if considering her words. Then, her lips curved into a knowing smile.
"Yes, so do … but those young ones are raised that way." She paused before her gaze turned slightly sharper. "But what about those who don't even acknowledge their family? Do you think they would still care to follow its rules and traditions?"
Margaret hesitated to answer that because she wasn't sure about it herself.
Seeing the confusion clear on her face, Brenda smiled and shook her head, answering herself.
"They wouldn't follow the tradition for the sake of the family's pride. They would only do it if they truly wanted to —if it wasn't for the family but for soone they genuinely care about. And that genuine care doesn't co in a day or two."
Margaret's brows furrowed, partially in confusion. "Madam, you an …?"
Brenda's gaze deepened, a thoughtful glint in her eyes.
"I feel there is sothing a lot deeper about Arwen and Winslow. Sothing we haven't looked quite in detail —sothing that goes beyond coincidence."
Reviews
All reviews (0)