We take our seats, and for a moment, I simply study him.
I didn’t inherit my father’s looks. Beyond the dark hair, there isn’t much to suggest we’re related, and anyone who didn’t know us would never guess we’re father and son.
That said, the man has aged remarkably well.
Not that he’s particularly old. Having children in your early twenties probably helps.
“Your grandfather has been rather persistent,” he says after a moment.
I let out a noncommittal sound in acknowledgement.
Their relationship has always been a complicated one.
Then again, he’s my grandfather on my mother’s side, and I imagine most in-law relationships come with a certain degree of tension.
“I see. He extends me the same courtesy.”
“I suspected as much.”
For a moment, neither of us speaks before his expression turns more serious.
“What’s really going on, Hunter?”
I meet his eyes but say nothing.
“I was under the impression you were prepared to take over Wardgrave Dynamics this year.”
“I was,” I reply. “Something... unexpected came up.”
He arches a brow.
“Unexpected to the point of delaying your succession?”
“Until May. It is hardly an unreasonable extension.”
He studies me for a moment.
“Is this related to the Syndicate? The Markevs mentioned something about a truce and your attendance at St. Monarché Academy.”
I smirk.
“There’s a truce, yes. As for the details, I couldn’t care less. That’s Isaak’s concern, not mine.”
“I have a feeling it’s more than that.”
“A necessary alignment.”
“And your involvement?” he asks.
“It proves... advantageous.”
He shakes his head with a faint smile.
“There it is.”
I arch a brow.
“You have a personal interest in this arrangement.”
