Tate always imagined the day when he was to face the man who was called his grandfather, George McLean. He imagined this day and dreamt of it, he even dreamt of the day when he was going to be accepted into this family.
Now that Tate looked at this mansion, this wealth, he wondered if it was worth wanting all along. This very same wealth had ruined both his parent’s lives and had caused him to hate his young self.
The butler stopped in front of a wide oak door and unlocked the door; they entered, the moment that Tate had been waiting for. On a big king sized bed Tate saw the man, which he once viewed, as powerful and brave but what Tate saw was a weak man, with greying hair and pale skin.
Tate gathered the strength and walked towards the foot of the old mans bed and his grandfather ope
