Chapter 2551: Chapter 2560: The Only Bloodline in This Life
"Youâre here." The man in the wheelchair was about fifty, with a side profile that made it obvious he wasnât the handsome type. Itâs safe to say that except for maybe height, August Oliver bore no resemblance to him, and one couldnât tell they were father and son at all. "How do you feel?"
August Oliver stood up, lowered his gaze to hide the deep-seated anger in his eyes, and said flatly, "Nothing special."
"Youâd better get used to your change in identity. Youâre now a director of the Oscar Group, not Star anymore. You need to exude the right aura. If thereâs anything you donât know, you can ask Alvin. Heâs my confidant, and heâll teach you what to do." Wesley raised his left hand and motioned forward, and the bodyguard behind him promptly pushed him to the desk as directed. His desk was both expansive and imposing, with many files placed on black and white shelves. The desk height seemed tailored just for him, perfectly matching the height of his wheelchair. He placed his hand on the desk, took a document from a stack, opened it, and said in a deep voice while glancing at the files, "Youâre my only bloodline. I didnât know of your existence before, so I havenât taught you properly. But now that youâve acknowledged me, you must learn what you need to according to my demands. I donât like weaklings, not even my son. I wonât accept weakness. If you canât do well, Iâd rather squash you with my own hands than let you tarnish my reputation. Do you understand?"
The words were chilling, filled with threat.
The anger hidden deep within August Oliverâs eyes became even more profound. He clenched his fists and, with restraint, spoke, "Understood."
Wesley was a mysterious figure, with countless ties to the dark web behind the scenes, formidable to say the least. Even Oscar was no match for him. August was still too young and thought he had concealed his resentment well, but in Wesleyâs eyes, his so-called concealment was utterly ineffective.
Wesleyâs sharp gaze had already locked onto his clenched fist, and August suddenly felt discomfort from the scrutinizing gaze on his wrist and silently released his clenched hand.
Fortunately, Wesley didnât seem to want to bother with him and coldly dismissed him.
After August left, the middle-aged man leaned back in his wheelchair, frowned, and a hint of murder flashed in his eyes, "If I had another son, I wouldnât keep him around."
Keeping a son who hates him is like keeping a young wolf pup; once the wolf grows up, it will devour.
Unfortunately, heâs only got this one bloodline, and due to an earlier ambush, heâd long lost the ability to father more children.
Itâs fair to say that August Oliver is his only bloodline, and there would never be another.
The short bodyguard behind him remained silent, eyes observing, like a statue. Were it not for his occasional glances scanning every corner of the room for possible threats, one wouldnât even tell he was alive.
Wesley closed his eyes for a moment and instructed, "Have Alvin keep a closer eye on him. Oscarâs getting out of prison today and will soon learn about the new director. If Oscar tries to make a move, keep him alive, but let him suffer if he must. Young people grow through adversity; otherwise, theyâll always just be a baby!"
The bodyguard said nothing, quietly pulling out his phone.
After giving his instructions, Wesley returned to his work.
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