It sounded like the wind was blowing on the other end of the line, carrying William Quinn’s voice and his vaguely mocking laughter.
Walker Grant curled his fingers, his knuckles tapping a steady rhythm on the desk. His expression was unreadable as he said coolly, "Quite concerned about me, aren’t you? Have you finished all your own business?"
"My business is nothing compared to your eyes. I’m actually curious—what’s a world of darkness like? Are you completely useless now, like a piece of trash that can’t do a single thing?" William Quinn was exceptionally arrogant, his words unbelievably cruel.
"Heh..." Walker Grant chuckled softly. "It seems you’ve had it easy for far too long. Since you have no intention of having a civil conversation, let’s just end it here."
He then gestured for Dylan Finch to hang up the phone.
Then, he said in a low voice, "Pass on the order. Make some trouble for William Quinn. Preferably something that’ll have him laid up in bed for a couple of weeks."
Dylan Finch’s expression immediately turned solemn. "Yes, sir. I’ll notify Ethan Finch at once."
...
Dylan Finch went into the study and remained there for the better part of the day.
Judith Pierce was quite worried, but she knew it wasn’t a good time to disturb him. Noticing Chloe Reed sitting not far away, she said, "You should take something to Walker. Make sure he doesn’t overwork himself."
Chloe Reed looked up at her, blinked placidly, and shook her head.
’I’m not going.’
’He’ll come out when he’s hungry and rest when he’s tired.’
"You..."
Judith Pierce hadn’t expected her to refuse so bluntly, and her brows immediately knitted together.
The old lady of the house stepped out just then, asking, "What’s all this?"

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