“Fine. But if you interfere with my plan, or my process, the outcome is on you,” Vincent replied coolly.
Edward Kramer’s lips twisted, but he held his tongue.
Good… Vincent mused. Keep your f*****g comments to yourself.
Lord Kramer nodded once, and Vincent relaxed his shoulders. The young man glanced around his father’s room.
“Well, once I get breakfast, we should both get back on this. Oh, and, Father,” he commented breezily, then conspiratorially, “do tell mother that it was you who asked for my help, would you? I’m sure she would like to hear it from her loyal, trusted husband.”
“Listen, Boy. If I do not make snide remarks, you do not sass me. Understood?”
“Come now, Father, I never agreed to that!” Vincent quipped, turning on his heel before his father could say anything more.
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