Thorns Grow After Betrayal (Celeste and Chester) novel Chapter 176

Chester remained on one knee. "Grandfather, I've kept every word you said close to my heart. As for the money the Fordham family lost, I'll find a way to make up for it."

With that, he bowed his head deeply to the old man sitting at the head of the table.

Alistair saw the determination in Chester's posture and knew he meant every word.

"Fine! I'd like to see what miracle you think you can pull off! Get out of my sight!"

Another teacup shattered against the marble floor, fragments scattering at Alistair's feet.

…

The Langley Residence.

A sharp slap echoed through the room.

"Dad, you hit me?!" Elena stared at her father in disbelief. He'd always been the one to spoil her.

Her father's hand tingled from the blow as he pointed at her, his finger trembling. "Yes, I hit you, you ungrateful child! Now tell me—what did you do to Gideon? Didn't I warn you to steer clear of anyone from the Prescott Group lately? Do you have any idea what kind of mess you've made?"

Just recently, word came that Gideon would be visiting Portside City. To secure a deal with the Prescott family, he'd practically worn a path to the Prescott Group's local offices.

Others in Portside City might not realize the power the Prescott Group had amassed here, but he knew. Over the years, they'd quietly acquired the rights to some of the hottest properties and products in town.

It was only a matter of time before the city's business elite felt the ground shift beneath them.

He'd seen the writing on the wall—and chased after every opportunity. Finally, the Prescott Group agreed to a meeting, only to deliver a cold, final rejection: they would never do business with the Langleys.

When Elena learned Gideon was really cutting ties with the Fordham family, her cry was sharp and shrill. "Dad! It's them—the Prescotts are blind to real power! Why should we, the Langleys, let them push us around? This is Portside City! Crushing a little outfit like the Prescott Group would be as easy as squashing an ant!"

Her father's anger flared. "Easy as squashing an ant? If anyone's getting crushed like an ant, it's you!"

He glared at her, exasperated. "And don't forget that fake painting you bought! I told you not to, but you wouldn't listen—you just had to bring it home! Three hundred million dollars, gone in a flash! All because of your impulsiveness! Haven't you learned a thing?"

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