Chapter 861:
Kneeling on the cold bluestone floor, Johnny finally grasped what it meant to bear the weight of the family’s fate.
Hulda led him to the Morgan residence, his parents following behind with gifts prepared for their apology. When they entered the reception room, they found it filled with many visitors.
Every one of them represented a company hurt by Johnny’s recklessness. Each had come bearing gifts, hoping to make peace with Brad.
Their stares pierced Johnny like knives, full of resentment and ridicule. For a moment, he wanted to turn and flee, but he forced himself to stay. He had brought this on himself — and he would face it.
After a long wait, the butler appeared at the door. “Mr. Morgan is very busy,” he said evenly. “He understands why everyone is here, but he can’t meet with all of you. Only the Reid family will remain. The rest may take back their gifts.”
Several representatives hurried forward in alarm. “Did Mr. Morgan say anything about our contracts?” one asked anxiously.
The butler’s polite smile did not hide the chill in his tone. “You can’t undo what’s already been done. It was you who ended the collaboration with Mr. Morgan, so there’s no way you can reconnect so easily. Mr. Morgan believes your abilities will serve you well, even without his partnership.”
Sensing their intent to press on, the butler added, “Mr. Morgan has no patience for fair-weather friends. It’s best not to pester him.”
That silenced the room. One by one, the visitors departed, their faces drawn with regret.
Finally, Hulda and Johnny were ushered into Brad’s study. Inside, Frieda stood beside him, setting down a glass of freshly pressed juice.
“I picked these fruits myself this morning,” she said softly. “You should drink some while you work.”
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Brad didn’t look up. “Alright,” he said simply.
Frieda lingered, hesitating at the doorway. “I made it just for you,” she added, her voice quieter. “Frank didn’t get any.”
She had been trying to mend things between them since the strained incident on his last birthday.
Brad glanced at the juice, then nodded once. “I’ll drink it. Thank you, Mom.”
Frieda’s expression brightened, and she smiled faintly. “Alright. I won’t keep you, then.”
When she left, the room fell silent again. Brad leaned back in his chair, his tone calm but firm. “What brings you here?”
When the two men met again, the power seemed to shift toward Brad, as if gravity itself had tilted. At his parents’ urging, Johnny sank to his knees before him.
The sound of his knees striking the floor echoed through the study — a dull, hollow thud that stripped him of all remaining pride.
“Mr. Morgan, it was my fault,” Johnny began, his voice trembling. “I came to apologize.”
His head remained bowed, his hands pressed tightly against his thighs as he forced his voice to stay steady. “I was hoping you might allow our family a portion of Havenridge Group’s order. Our shipyard may not match Polar Star Global Works in scale, but our craftsmanship still holds value. Please — consider it.”
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