Shane Prescott shot up from his chair, the legs screeching against the floor.

He strode toward Audrey Sullivan and took the bag from her hands, his voice slightly hoarse. "Mom."

That single word made Audrey's eyes instantly redden.

Her fingers trembled as she clutched his sleeve.

Victor Sullivan quickly stood to explain. "Audrey, you misunderstood. I meant our son joining the Prescott family registry would continue your father's lineage."

Audrey shot him a cold glare. "If I hadn't shown up, would you have bullied my son again?"

Victor raised his right hand in frustration. "I swear, if I had any ill intentions, may lightning strike me!"

Audrey scoffed. "That kind of oath wouldn't fool a three-year-old."

Eleanor Sullivan quickly intervened. "Come eat, dear. Don't mind this foolish old man."

Victor pressed his lips together in frustration.

Despite being the Sullivan family's pillar, his standing at home was pitifully low.

Yet when he glimpsed Audrey's delicate profile, he couldn't help but inch closer.

"Mom, sit here," Sophia Laurent offered kindly, vacating her seat.

A servant swiftly brought fresh tableware.

Eleanor served Audrey a dish. "No wonder you've been glowing lately—you found your son."

Audrey gazed at Shane with pride. "He's accomplished so much with the archaeological team."

"Every Sullivan child is exceptional," Eleanor said warmly. "You've done well, dear. If this old fool dares trouble you, I won't allow it!"

Victor's scalp prickled.

Two sons, one daughter, and a daughter-in-law who knew explosives.

Life had become unbearable.

After dinner, Eleanor led everyone to the ancestral hall.

"Kneel!" she suddenly commanded.

Victor reflexively dropped onto the prayer cushion.

"Kowtow and admit your wrongs!"

"What did I do wrong?"

"Losing your son is the gravest mistake!" Eleanor's expression hardened. "Now kowtow!"

Grumbling, Victor knocked his forehead against the floor three times.

When it was Shane's turn, he hesitated.

Ethan Sullivan whispered, "Just three simple bows, brother."

Shane knelt solemnly, pressing his forehead to the ground.

As they left the hall, Eleanor slipped Shane a thick red envelope.

"Grandmother, I—"

"Refusing it means you don't acknowledge me!"

Inside the car, he discovered a check for ten million.

Just as Shane prepared to return it, Ethan called. "Grandmother will go on a hunger strike."

Reluctantly, he gave up.

Staring at the additional thirty million in checks now in his wallet, Shane made a call.

"I left it," Ethan said casually. "Dating costs money."

Shane's throat tightened.

As night deepened, he drove to the suburban villa district.

High walls loomed, surveillance cameras everywhere.

Masked and hooded, Shane scaled the wall like a shadow.

In the gazebo, Isabella Valentine nibbled on desserts, carefree.

Shane drew a throwing knife, holding his breath.

The moment she turned—

"Whoosh!"

The blade sliced through the air.

"Clang!"

Metal clashed sharply.

A dark figure lunged forward. "Go! It's a trap!"