Lyle Westbrook's eyes were icy cold. He wasn't someone completely heartless, but all of Howe Westbrook's behavior had chilled him to the core.
If things between the two of them could only end in mutual destruction, then he wasn't going to give Howe Westbrook another chance.
There was only one chance, and Howe Westbrook hadn't cherished it.
Right then, there was a click as the door opened.
A tall, straight-backed man walked in from outside. He swept a glance over him, his hawk-like eyes narrowing as he asked, "Well? Not going to die, right?"
"With Young Master Lawrence here, I won't die." Lyle Westbrook drew back the chill in his eyes, looked at him, and didn't force himself to sit up. Face pale, he asked, "Now that the others are gone, can I ask why you're here, Young Master Lawrence? Don't tell me it's a coincidence."
