"Sir," Beto called as he followed William toward the Carter mansion. "Your sunglasses."
William stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Keep them… or throw them away."
Beto blinked, confused. "But sir, you took quite some time choosing them earlier."
William turned slightly. "She's clearly into looks."
His gaze lowered slightly before he continued, "And I don't think hiding mine helps."
Completely speechless at his boss's confidence, Beto could only blink.
"Arthur said she prefers men who look… cool," William continued. "But I guess he was wrong."
A brief silence followed.
Then William's steps slowed slightly. He recalled the moment in front of the elevator.
The instant he heard Thalia call his name.
How he had paused, reached for the sunglasses and put them on without hesitation just to look cool when he turned.
As if that alone would make a difference. His gaze lowered faintly.
"Pointless," he muttered.
Then he continued walking, as if nothing had happened.
"Where are you coming from?"
The voice from the living room made him stop.
William closed his eyes briefly, taking a slow breath, as if trying to keep his good mood from being ruined.
"The Executive Strategy Meeting you were supposed to attend—why was it postponed?"
"I had something important to take care of," William replied, already moving toward the stairs.
"Is there anything more important than the company?"
"Yes." He stopped.
Then turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on the man seated on the couch, calmly reading a book, as if nothing in the world could disturb him.
The man adjusted his glasses and deliberately closed the book before looking up at William.
"I gave you the chance you've been waiting for your whole life," he said evenly. "And you're going to ruin it?"
William's gaze sharpened. "I never asked for this chance."
"William Carter," the man's voice rose slightly, a clear warning.
William didn't flinch. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes dark and unreadable.
"You seem to have the wrong idea," he said coldly.
He took a step forward.
"I didn't take this position because I wanted it." He paused for a second before continuing, "I took it because someone had to… when he couldn't."
His gaze flickered for a second, then hardened.
"So don't speak as if this was some kind of opportunity you granted me."
Silence settled between them.
The man's gaze hardened slightly. "You speak as if you had a choice."
William let out a faint breath. "I did."
A brief pause.
"I just didn't choose this." He took another step forward, his expression calm but firm.
"You told me not to stand out," he continued. "Not to be better. Not to be seen."
His eyes darkened slightly. "So I wasn't."
The man watched him closely, as if trying to read something beneath the surface.
"But calling me back just to cover for your firstborn…" William continued, his tone calm but edged, "do you really expect me to suddenly be grateful?"
"Behave…" the man said, lifting his gaze sharply to meet William's.
"You should be the one behaving, not me." William's voice remained steady.
A faint smirk touched his lips.
"You need me." His gaze didn't move. "Say the word… and I'll walk away."
The words hung in the air.
For the first time, the man didn't respond. His fingers, still resting on the book, tightened slightly. His lips parted, as if to say something but nothing came out.
William watched him for a second.
Then he finally spoke again. "So, father… May I go to my room now?"
The man—Jonathan Carter, gave a faint nod, his gaze lowering.
William turned and walked toward the stairs.
He reached the first step, then stopped.
"Oh," he said, as if he had just remembered something.
He glanced back slightly.
"I forgot to mention…" A beat. "I'm getting married in five days."
Silence.
"Just a formality," he added calmly. "You're not invited."
"What do you mean?" Jonathan stood up. "I've already arranged—"
William raised his hand, cutting him off.
"I've said this for five years," he replied, his voice steady. "Five years since I came back to cover for Elijah."
His gaze hardened slightly. "You don't have the authority to order me around."
Jonathan opened his mouth, ready to argue but William cut him off.
"Ah—if you're wondering why I'm suddenly being this blunt with you…" he said calmly.
"It's because I believe Elijah will recover soon." His eyes darkened slightly. "And I no longer feel the need to cover for him."
A flicker of panic crossed Jonathan's eyes. "I didn't—"
"Oh, don't worry," William interrupted smoothly. "There's nothing you can hide from me."
His gaze held, unwavering.
"Elijah has been awake for a year now."
The words landed heavily.
"And since I've multiplied the company's profits more than enough…" he continued, his tone almost indifferent, "I'd say that settles things."
A faint, cold smile touched his lips. "A greedy dog doesn't get to carry two bones."
He turned and walked away, leaving Jonathan standing there, speechless.
From behind, Beto hurried up the stairs to follow him. He had been waiting anxiously, clutching the urgency of the call he had just received.
The moment they reached William's door, William stopped.
"What is it?" His tone had shifted, cold, edged and impatient.
"Sir… I received a call earlier." Beto swallowed hard. He hated moments like this the most.
"And?" William asked, curt.
Beto hesitated. He wasn't sure whether telling him would make things better or much, much worse.
"It had better be important," William added, his voice low. "Or I'll send you to one of our branches in that secluded village."
Beto stiffened immediately. "Earlier,when you just entered the house—"
"Keep it short."
"Yes, sir." He straightened. "Mrs. Kim called. She said it's an emergency. Since she doesn't have your number… she contacted me instead."
William frowned. "I said keep it short, Beto. What does she want?"
"She asked if you could come to their house right now," Beto replied carefully. "Miss Thalia… she's having trouble breathing."
William's frown deepened. "And what does that have to do with me? She should take her to the hospital. I'm not a doctor."
Beto clasped his hands, nodding quickly. "I told her the same thing, sir, but she said—"
He hesitated for a second. "'She can't go to the hospital. Just tell him to come… he'll understand.'"
Beto repeated Tiara's words exactly as she had said them.
Silence followed.
William didn't move.
"I would understand?"