Hamish watched Finn’s mouth move, his eyes narrowing like a hawk’s, lending an even more intense coldness to his already aloof aura.
“Are you willing to give up the Burns family for a woman?” Old Burns raised an eyebrow.
Apart from growing older, not much had changed about him. His dominating presence seemed to emanate from within, leaving everyone present feeling apprehensive.
Among the members of the Burns family, Hamish was the one he valued the most as the heir.
His approach to matters retained the vigor of his youth, even more so. Although he claimed to let Hamish make his own way in the world, he had never ceased investigating him in secret.
Watching him step by step become the foremost figure in the Bankshire business community, and taking over the Powell Group, he was increasingly satisfied with his grandson. He could almost imagine the brilliance that the Burns family would achieve under Hamish’s leadership.
Yet now, Hamish was being hindered by a woman, Elisa-his wife’s ex-wife and someone who he had once defeated, a member of the Powell family.
When Hamish had no feelings for Elisa, he could effortlessly swallow up the Powell family. But now that he had this soft spot, could he continue to operate with such ease?
Old Burns was livid, wishing he could dissect Hamish’s mind to see what was inside. How could he give up his inheritance for a woman?
Hamish’s expression had already returned from its contorted grimace, much better than Finn lying in bed, looking in a sorry state. His hair was slightly disheveled, his tie loosened, and there was dirt and blood on his white shirt, none of which was his, except for the most severe injury on his face-a prominent bruise.
Hamish’s expression remained steely. In the lamplight, the faint blue veins beneath his cold, hard jawline were visible as he locked eyes with Old Burns.
“You should know, I didn’t give up the position of the Burns family heir for her,” Hamish stood straight, aloof and composed, exuding an air of invincibility, as if nothing could faze him.
“How my parents died, you know better than anyone. I won’t let that happen to me. I can build the Burns family on my own,” he declared.
Proud as he was, Hamish spoke the truth. He had never regarded the Burns family lightly. He had risen to become the wealthiest man in Bankshire within seven years and had swiftly taken over Chiwood. Sooner or later, he would make everyone in the business world associate the Burns family with him, Hamish.
Seeing Old Burns’ slightly stiffened expression, a hint of coldness curved at the corner of Hamish’s mouth. “If you want to choose an heir, choose Finn. But before you do, it’s best to change his name to Burns. Otherwise, the Burns family might not be Burns anymore when the time comes.”
With that, he turned and left, his departure unfathomably indifferent, showing no intention of looking back.
Atonal had been silent, but seeing Hamish about to leave, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety. “Old Burns, should I talk to Mr. Hamish?”
Old Burns, watching Hamish’s retreating figure, pursed his lips slightly, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. “If he wants to leave, let him leave! What’s the point of talking to him? Do you think he’s still an ignorant child? People have to pay the price for their words.”
Thinking of the words Hamish had spoken before turning away, he felt as though he’d been slapped in the face in front of everyone.
Hamish’s final words had been spoken in front of everyone, so Finn had heard them too.
Finn didn’t want to change his surname, and Old Burns hadn’t forced him to change it. Not out of respect for his wishes, but because Finn hadn’t fully accepted the idea of inheriting the Burns family.
Finn’s facial expression seemed clouded, and as soon as Old Burns turned to look at him, he immediately reverted to his previous injured appearance.
“Grandfather, I’ve only sustained minor injuries. Don’t be angry with my brother because of me.” His expression changed as quickly as a Sichuan opera face-changing performance, almost astonishingly abrupt, showing no signs of distress to anyone.
Who wouldn’t appreciate a sensible grandson? Even if he knew it was an act, it was still pleasant to watch. Old Burns sighed and instructed him, “Rest well. Stay at home and recuperate for the next few days. Leave the company matters to others for now.”
Finn obediently nodded and said, “Okay.”
Old Burns, being old, started to feel drowsy before nine o’clock. He gave some instructions to the doctor and then went upstairs to rest.
Once Old Burnshad left, Finn’s face returned to its previous nonchalant demeanor. He instructed the servant to retrieve his phone, which he had dropped in the backyard.
Although the phone’s screen had been shattered by Hamish, it was still functional. Finn powered it on, found the edited video in the files, and sent it to Hamish.
…
Hamish left North Bankshire and drove straight to his villa. With one hand on the steering wheel, he gazed at the rearview mirror, observing the injuries on his face. He touched the painful, bloodied areas. Despite being superficial, the wounds were hard to ignore.
Initially just a reddish hue, by the next day, the bruises had swollen and turned purple and blue. Apart from the pain on his face, he knew his shoulders and legs had also suffered from Finn’s brutal blows. Without looking, he knew they would be turning shades of blue. Even just pressing the brake or steering caused excruciating pain.
Compared to Finn, he was already much better off. Thinking about his words to Hamish, a trace of resentment clouded his features. He regretted not having inflicted more severe injuries, wishing he had crippled Finn.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated. Hamish didn’t immediately check, choosing to continue driving. By the time he reached the villa’s parking lot, it was already ten at night. He glanced up at the bedroom where the light was still on. Elisa was probably not asleep yet.
Once inside, Hamish took out his phone to see who had sent the message. When he saw the number, his expression contorted once again.
It was from Finn.
Whatever he had sent was not going to be good. He could have simply ignored it, but against his better judgment, he clicked to view the contents.
A video accompanied by a short message.
-“Enjoy, you’re welcome.”
In just a few words, combined with the video, Hamish immediately knew what it was. His fingertips began to tremble, his breath catching as if he was struggling against something. Ultimately, he clicked to download the video.
In the video, Elisa was bound to a wooden board, just like in the photograph. As the video played, his pupils constricted. He increased the speed to 2. 5 times, frantically watching until his hands began to shake uncontrollably.
When he had taken Elisa to the hospital from that place, on that very night, she had been close to death three times. The doctors who had performed emergency treatment had explicitly told him how she had sustained those injuries.