Words.
Numbers.
Symbols.
Nothing made sense as his thoughts kept reverting to the woman who had been warming up his bed, but making him take cold showers at night.
"You look like shit." A mocking comment echoed in the room as a man strode into his office as if he fucking owned the place.
Technically, he did.
"Dad, what are you doing here?" He asked, looking up from the files that piled up on his desk, awaiting his signature.
After taking over the company, Maximus Morton had rarely visited the office, except for major shareholders' meetings. Since his father had retired and relinquished all his obligations to him, he had refrained from meddling in his affairs.
Therefore, it was alarming to see his father make an unexpected and unannounced trip to his office.
"Can't I visit my son at his work?" Maximus asked, his eyes roaming around the room with a look of nostalgia. "I like what you've done to the place, Oliver." His father commented, his tone laced with pride and approval.
