[Global Pri Logistics]
Haines suddenly shuddered, feeling the hair on his neck crawl and rise. Charles, who was seated beside him in Atlas’s office, arched a brow at him.
"What’s wrong with you?" Charles asked curiously. "Don’t tell this office makes you sick now?"
Haines rubbed his neck and stretched it a little. "I don’t feel sick, but for so reason, I feel like soone’s talking bad about ."
"No one’s talking bad about you."
"How can you be sure of that?"
"Because if soone were talking bad about you, you’d be sneezing, not shuddering," Charles answered proudly, smirking. "Isn’t that right?"
"..." Haines rocked his head but didn’t respond. Anything he said would only lead to a long discussion. He didn’t want to debate with Charles now, not when the man had already given him ten reasons why Haines had to accompany him.
’From what I rember, I only promised to go with him on his fishing trip,’ Haines thought to himself. ’If not for my eting with Wild, I wouldn’t be here.’
That was right.
Haines had asked Wild to et him today, but because Wild had purposely stood him up last ti, Haines wanted revenge. How could Wild be so petty? Haines had stood Wild up the first ti because he completely forgot — it wasn’t intentional. But what Wild did was deliberate.
Wild had no conscience for soone with a disability.
"Why is Atlas taking so long?" Charles frowned deeply, clearly annoyed as he glanced at the door, which showed no sign of his eldest son. "How can a eting last this long?"
"You’ve only been retired for a few years and you’ve already forgotten how etings work?" Haines asked curiously, only to get a sassy response from Charles.
"The mont I finished my last day in the office, I promised myself I’d forget everything I knew about office work."
"But sotis, you work part-ti in Penny’s company."
"That’s a different thing." Charles shalessly shrugged. "Penny is my princess, so I don’t mind slaving in her company if it ans she gets an extra hour of sleep."
Haines smiled subtly. "You really are just like your father."
"What?!"
"Your favoritism is troubleso. I’m just glad your sons prefer your indifference, so it’s not a problem in the end," Haines shrugged casually. "I’m telling the truth."
"Haines, I have favoritism, but don’t you dare compare to my father."
"Why not?"
"His favoritism is different! He liked other kids more than his own! I like my kid more than the rest. Penny is still my kid! I don’t make other kids my favorite, I favor my own kid."
"..." Haines glanced to the side. "Is that so?"
Charles hissed, clearly not pleased with Haines. The latter decided to keep his mouth shut. Otherwise, Charles would kill ti arguing with him. But alas, Haines had already said the words that would trigger Charles.
It was too late to take them back.
---
anwhile, in the conference room at Global Pri Logistics...
"eting adjourned," Atlas announced coldly, rising after a long eting. Even though he knew his father was waiting for him in the office, Atlas took his ti. Work was more important than whatever reason his father was in the office.
But just as Atlas stood, he stopped when Stephen suddenly called him. Arching a brow, he turned to his uncle. He noticed so of the employees in the conference room glanced at them, but none of them spoke. They all quietly gathered their things and left.
Stephen didn’t speak either, his gaze following the departing employees. When most of them were gone, he snapped his eyes back to Atlas.
"What is it, Director?" Atlas asked in his usual flat tone. "Is there sothing you didn’t like about the project?"
Stephen had been quiet throughout the eting. Normally, this man would question everything and make a huge fuss about it. He liked exercising his power by rejecting any proposal and making the employees redo it at least three tis. A bad habit that Atlas realized Stephen wouldn’t change.
"Uh, not that. The proposal was perfect, and with your additional inputs, it’s good," Stephen remarked, catching Atlas off guard.
"It was... perfect?" Atlas narrowed his eyes suspiciously. ’Was he not listening earlier? He seed to be in a daze throughout the eting, after all.’
Still, Atlas didn’t point it out. Why would he? If Stephen had done his usual antics, the eting would’ve lasted longer. But then again, Atlas knew Stephen was dealing with Sven’s situation.
All Atlas could hope for now was that this wasn’t about Sven.
"Uhm... Atlas, I have sothing to tell you," Stephen said, taking a deep breath and looking at Atlas with determination. "I have to..."
Stephen paused, turning his head toward the door, where the last employee was leaving. Before the employee left, they glanced in their direction. When Stephen made eye contact with the employee, his breath hitched. Beads of sweat imdiately ford on his forehead, and his back dampened in an instant.
He had to clasp his hands together to stop them from shaking, but to no avail. Looking up at Atlas, his heart thudding in his ear.
’Is that employee a spy?’ he wondered, recalling how "that" person had contacted him in the past. It was through people casually passing by, whispering to Stephen without stopping. Stephen was starting to get paranoid.
Was he being watched right now? If Stephen started talking, would he die? Would they know that he was already working against them?
"Uncle, are you okay?" Atlas’s voice snapped him back to reality. He looked at his uncle, who had an ashen face. "You look pale. Do you need to call an ergency? You seem very unwell."
Stephen gulped, his heart racing. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, but his voice was stuck in his throat. Atlas, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes, watching Stephen’s strange reaction.
"Uncle, I’ll call the—"
"Soone wants to kill the chair—" Stephen blurted out in panic, only for a sudden shattering sound to hit the window and a searing pain drilling into his temple.
BANG!
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