Seated on the sofa was none other than his father, Jonah Thomas.

“Dad, a prior heads-up would have been appreciated.”

Bruce’s voice, laden with the fatigue of a sleepless night, resonated with depth.

Only then did Jonah rise, pivoting to face Bruce, having first cast a frigid glance at the woman, whose humiliation was palpable.

“It’s nearly noon, Bruce. You’ve reached an age where focusing on the right path should be your priority. If your intent is to frolic with women, could you not defer such indulgences until our objectives are met, instead of reckless abandon?”

The woman hugged herself tighter. While she carried no badge of honor herself, being reprimanded so directly brought waves of humiliation.

Bruce produced a check, filled it out, and extended it to the woman.

“Take this and depart.”

inscribed on the check, her humiliation was swiftly eclipsed by the sum before her. She clutched the

happened to rise a tad later, and

hangs in the balance. Instead of diverting your attention to women, why

took a somber

period alone. I’ve been reluctantly ensnared in this chess match of yours, relegated to the role

of composure, yet within, the

blaze. His aspiration to lay claim to the sumptuous

Angela’s Library

an overt power struggle would amount to naught, as he’d never been the favored heir in the eyes of the family’s matriarch. He

the family legacy, he presented an image of detachment from fame and fortune.

whose quick-igniting temper flared at the

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