San Francisco.
In a secluded villa on the outskirts of the city.
"Sir—"
"What's so urgent?"
Jonathan's sleep had been disturbed, his expression dark and sullen.
"Couldn't wait until tomorrow?"
The refined and handsome demeanor he usually carried had completely vanished, replaced by an impenetrable gloom.
Anyone familiar with Jonathan would have been stunned to see him like this.
The gaunt man immediately bowed repeatedly, nodding in apology.
"My apologies, sir... my deepest apologies..."
Others were accustomed to seeing the gentlemanly side of their employer, but only he knew the cunning ruthlessness hidden beneath that mask.
Otherwise, how could a man do such things to his own son and father?
"Enough," Jonathan rubbed his temples, cutting off the thin man's groveling.
"Cut to the chase already."
"Yes, yes," the gaunt man stopped fidgeting and straightened up, his expression turning serious.
"There's movement at the old mansion."
The old mansion?
