“Dad!”
“Grandpa—!”
At the old man’s decision, both of his sons and his grandson, Quinlan Winslow, reacted instantly. Their brows furrowed in alarm, instinctively stepping forward as if to stop what they believed was a reckless, irreversible act.
But Old Master Winslow did not waver.
Not even slightly.
The authority he had cultivated over decades—through wars survived, fortunes built, and power consolidated—rose to the surface in that moment. His expression hardened, his resolve absolute.
There would be no persuasion.
No hesitation.
No retreat.
Seeing this, frustration twisted across Quinlan’s face. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, and the restraint he had been barely holding onto finally snapped.
“If anything happens to my grandmother because of this,” he said through gri
