"Get lost" sounded too harsh, but "scram" carried an unexpected warmth.

Victor Sullivan's lips curved upward against his will, a sweetness blooming in his chest.

At nearly sixty, he'd finally discovered love could still make his heart race.

How peculiar—he found himself drawn to this thorn-tipped tenderness.

Those who openly fawned over him only left him indifferent.

"Audrey," he cleared his throat, "are you free this weekend? I'd like to take you to dinner."

"Busy." The line went dead before he could finish.

Undeterred, Victor redialed. "Must you always be so occupied? Everything I have will be yours one day."

"Stop with the oily charm," Audrey scoffed. "Are you some reincarnated swine?"

"Swine?" Confusion knitted his brow.

"Your spiritual kin."

Victor sidestepped the jab. "Let's visit the hot springs next week. The mineral baths could help with the pain from Shane's birth."

Standing by the window, Audrey let the cold wind dry the moisture gathering at her lashes.

"No."

"I visited Shane at the hospital today," Victor changed tactics. "Left him a check."

"Money isn't what he lacks." Her voice remained steady.

"I know he needs love," Victor sighed. "But he freezes me out. Today he threatened to bury me with you."

"Bury you?"

"He said if anything happens to you, he'll send me after you."

Warmth flooded Audrey's chest.

This son she'd regained cared more deeply than she'd imagined.

"Enough. I'm going to see my boy."

"Don't," Victor cautioned. "Luna's with him."

The phone grew heavy in Audrey's hand.

Her son had grown up, keeping even affection at arm's length.

No wonder Evelyn had been so desperate for another child.

Victor's voice buzzed through the receiver: "If we're happy, Shane will be at peace."

"Spare me the delusions." The line went dead again.

A knock interrupted his thoughts.

His assistant entered with documents. "Mr. Sullivan, your afternoon schedule is confirmed."

Rubbing his temples, Victor murmured, "Sometimes I truly consider retirement."

"Both your sons excel," the aide offered carefully. "You could gradually step back."

"Not yet." He opened the file. "Is everything arranged for Adrian?"

"Yes."

Victor's gaze darkened. "The company factions have formed. Where do your loyalties lie?"

The assistant stiffened. "I serve only you."

Victor said nothing.

He knew exactly what calculations ran through their minds.

Night fell.

Seated in his car after a business dinner, the alcohol sharpening his longing for Audrey, Victor dialed Ethan.

"Come with me somewhere."

"Where?"

"To see your grandparents."

"If you're having a crisis, don't drag me in," Ethan teased. "I'm quite content as is."

"Enough. The cemetery."

The suburban graveyard bit with winter's teeth.

Pale streetlamps cast skeletal shadows across headstones, distant wails threading through the dark.

Victor arranged flowers and a bottle of premium liquor before the graves, bowing deeply.

"Mother, Father," his voice rasped, "I promised to care for Audrey, but she won't forgive me."

Ethan stood silent witness.

Never had he seen his father so vulnerable.

As they left, Victor pressed a thick envelope into the caretaker's hand.

"Next time, cry louder," Ethan quipped. "I'll record it for Mom."

"Brat!" Victor glared. "Now take me to Nicole's grave."

"Evening the scales?"

In the car, Victor lowered the partition. "Running a company requires balance."

Ethan arched a brow. "Are you passing the torch?"