?Chapter 438:


    Lydia rubbed her temples, feeling a headache creeping in. “And what exactly is upsetting him so much? We were only trying to give him a clean te.”


    “No!” the man snapped, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. “He even had to change his surname. I understand why he’s upset. It’s clear he acknowledges me as his father.”


    This only fueled Lydia’s frustration. “And have you considered the practical consequences of his actions? How is he supposed to lead a normal life? Can’t you reason with him?”


    “You’re all moving too slowly,” the man criticized, his patience running thin. “Is the Dawson family really that formidable? I expected a swift resolution when you intervened, but this has dragged on for years.”


    “You’re notorious internationally. It could take decades to cleanse your son’s identity properly, and I refuse to let Travis bear the weight of any bloodshed just to fit into the Dawson family. He deserves a life untainted by such burdens.”


    Lydia was determined to secure a spotless future for Travis, having witnessed enough of the underworld’s maniptions. Her life’s mission was to pave a clear path for him, free of these entanglements.


    “Then proceed,” the man on the other end of the line responded nonchntly. “Our son will be safe, don’t worry.”


    The call ended with a veneer of normalcy, but underlying tensions remained.


    Lydia, ustomed to such conversations, set her ns in motion to locate Travis.


    Elsewhere, the man stood in a grand castle, swirling a ss of wine as he gazed out at the serenendscape. “Twenty years of struggle is enough for my son,” he mused aloud.


    Read new content at gαlnσνe?s


    A poised figure nearby nodded in agreement, his blue eyes thoughtful. “But Lydia’s efforts aregging. They’re encountering resistance from someone named Bryan Dawson.”


    The man’s interest piqued, his expression thoughtful. “There’s no such thing as apletely clean te. Lydia’s quest for purity is a pipe dream. Brandon seeks to use us for his revenge, but will he really hand over the Dawson empire to my son afterward?”


    As he lit his cigarette, shadows danced across his face, lending his blue eyes an ominous depth. “I’ll take matters into my own hands. By the way, how is ourtest project progressing? Are there any developments on the new form? Do we have a viable product yet?”


    The butler, ever precise, adjusted his sses before responding. “The final product is nearingpletion, sir. It has been tested only onboratory mice so far. Human trials haven’t begun.”


    .


    .


    .