And now that he and Hannah were getting divorced, these same people were reappearing.


    It felt like those old fossils were trying to control every aspect of his life.


    Going meant facing their condemnation with no guarantee of a favorable oue. Not going meant being cast out of the Rosenberg family.


    The thought made Lionel''s frustration grow.


    “Sir, Mr. Quennel just called. He asked me to remind you that you need to leave now, or you''ll bete. Punctuality is mandatory for this meeting."


    The butler approached Lionel from behind, speaking quietly.


    Lionel rested his hand on the windowsill, feeling the evening breeze.


    It was cold, biting.


    A chill ran through him, but he wasn''t sure if it was from the wind or something else entirely.


    He let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know."


    Despite Lionel''s reply, the butler didn''t leave. He remained standing behind him, watching.


    His duty was to ensure Lionel left on time so he could report back to Mr. Quennel.


    The butler watched Lionel turn, walk out, and get into his car. Only after confirming the car was heading towards the family estate did he take out his phone to call Quennel.


    The Family Estate.


    "The butler at Lionel''s house just called. He said Lionel is on his way and should be here in less than fifteen minutes."


    Quennel hung up the phone and walked into the living room, addressing the three elders seated there.


    There were eight elders in total, and while these weren''t the most powerful ones, having three of them convene at once was a rare event for the Rosenberg family.


    "Are you certain you gave him proper notice?" Mr. Shaw asked, his voice slightly raspy. His heavy eyelids hid his expression, making his thoughts impossible to guess.


    "My mother and I went to his house personally this afternoon. I exined the situation and made it clear that if he didn''t show up, it would be taken as his consent to leave."


    Facing the three imposing elders, Quennel remained perfectlyposed, his expression as calm and steady as ever.


    "If he was properly notified, then why isn''t he here already?" Mr. Thorne barked, his voice sharp with displeasure.


    "He has no respect for us. The arrogance!" Mr. Michael Rosenberg, leaning on his cane, struck the floorboards with a sharp rap to punctuate his anger.


    "Isn''t that just like Lionel?" Quennel raised an eyebrow. "He thinks he has some business acumen, so he looks down on all of us. This is the first time. You all saw it when he first came back, didn''t you?"


    Quennel''s words instantly provoked the three elders.


    Mr. Shaw frowned. "Acumen? What skills does a boy wet behind the ears who


    climbed his way up on the backs of women possibly have?"


    “Quennel, if you had a bit more ambition, the Rosenberg family would be entirely in your hands by


    now instead of being divided likene


    ve


    this! Tell me, with all the elite education you''ve received, how did


    you end up less capable than a stray raised on the streets?"


    Mr. Michael Rosenberg red at Quennel, openly venting his dissatisfaction.


    Quennel felt a sting of resentment at the words.


    Though he appeared to be above


    education, he was still outshined by Lionel''s unconventional sess?”


    But the facts were undeniable. No matter how much he disliked it, he couldn''t


    surpass him. All he could do was swallow his pride.


    "Talent is something you can''t force," he said with a rxed smile and a helpless shrug.