When fate plays its hand

“No way… Are you a big shot? You even brought your bodyguards to get drunk at a bar?”

“Who knows?” Sam retorted.

Sam asked his bodyguards to stand closer deliberately so that he could finally have some peace and quiet. He poured himself another drink, but unlike last night, he didn’t chug it down. Instead, he sipped it slowly, the indifferent expression on his face betraying no real emotion.

Suddenly, he froze up when his gaze landed on a booth not too far away.

Timothy felt someone staring at him and looked up in that direction. Unexpectedly, he locked eyes with his son. The air froze for a moment as both father and son looked away at the same time.

After a moment’s thought, Sam grabbed his bottle and walked over to Timothy’s booth. He plopped down on the seat beside his father. “Dad, drinking tonight?”

Timothy cast a cool glance at him. “What a stupid question.”

What else would he be doing at a bar if he wasn’t drinking? Should he watch a movie instead?

“And you…” Timothy gave his son a questioning look, then his gaze shifted to the half–empty bottle in his hand.” What’s going on? Didn’t you quit smoking and drinking?”

Half a year ago, Sam suddenly said he was going to stop smoking and drinking. At that time, Timothy thought he was joking. Later, he was genuinely surprised when Sam kept his word and truly abstained from cigarettes and alcohol.

Was he back to his old ways so soon?

Sam forced a smile. “No one cares anyway, so what’s the point of quitting?”

Timothy raised an eyebrow, catching Sam’s drift. “Did you get dumped by a woman?”

Who knew him better than his own father? Sam stayed silent.

“Ha, did you really get dumped? Interesting,” Timothy added.

“Don’t just talk about me. You’re not any better.” Sam chuckled. Who didn’t know how to be sarcastic?

Timothy’s expression darkened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sam continued, “You rushed from Skydale to Lumberville in one night. Did you burn out the accelerator? How many red lights did you run? You must have gotten so many fines, right?” Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

Timothy was at a loss for words.

“Dad, tsk tsk…” Sam looked his father up and down. “I never thought you could go all out like that. No wonder Mom felt discontented all these years that she had to cause a scene for attention every now and then.”

Timothy’s expression grew darker and darker with every word. When Sam finally finished, his face was as black as thunder. “What do you know, you little brat!” he scolded.

Sam retorted, “Hah! Aren’t you still hung up on Aunt Minnie? But she already has a good husband by her side now, so you have no chance whatsoever. Is that so hard to understand?”

Timothy was rendered speechless once again.

“Dad, is Aunt Minnie that perfect? You pined after her for 20 years, and you’re still unable to move on…” Sam’s eyes glazed over as his voice trailed off. His tone was sarcastic, but he himself was stumped in the end.

Was Miranda really that amazing? Was she worth longing and pining over day and night?

Timothy didn’t rush to respond. Instead, he picked up his glass. As he swirled the liquid around, he suddenly laughed. “We both love red wine, but you prefer Petrus, while I love Romanee–Conti. Why do you think that is?”

Sam was taken aback by the question.

Timothy threw his head back and took a gulp. “Because liking something needs no reason. After trying it, you grow to love it if it’s the best wine you’ve ever tasted.

“This happens naturally and needs no explanation. Once you tried it, loved it, but yet you can’t have it… What will happen in the end?”

His gaze was dark and threatening, but he hid it immediately and put on an air of indifference. “One will go mad.”

Sam gave him a self–mocking smile. “Even if you go mad, you still can’t obtain it.”

Timothy said, “Then you’ll have to take it by force.”