With a friendly smile, James patted Christopher's shoulder and said pensively, "Dad is not getting any younger. He's been troubled by worries lately. It's time that he takes a break. You can come straight to us for any issues revolving around work. Don't add to Dad's troubles."

"Yeah, Chris. James is the president. You can learn a lot from him," Lance echoed the same sentiment. He regained trust and respect for his eldest son.

Christopher looked James dead in the eyes, but a gentle smile soon spread across his lips. "You have a keen eye for business. I have a lot to learn from you. Here's to a positive outcome to your signed deal."

Christopher left the study with a grimace and strode along the corridor.

"Why are you leaving in a hurry, Chris? Dad wants us to have dinner together."

James stopped him and approached with confidence.

"Do you actually want to be at the same table as me?" Christopher turned around and looked askance at him.

"I do. Why wouldn't I?"

James laughed, smug at the idea that he pulled one on Christopher. "I love it when I crush you, and there's nothing you can do about it. I love it best when the person you try to harm is sitting unscathed right in front of you. The disappointed look on your face is priceless."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I never waste my emotions on trash." Christopher curled his lips and pushed his glasses up.

"Tsk." Having earned the favor of his father, James did not mind letting Christopher have the last word.

"Mr. Iverson!" Taylor rushed over and shut his mouth when he saw James there.

"So, your people address you formally?"

James smiled sarcastically. "It's a shame that there can only be one Mr. Iverson in the company, and that's me. But I am a generous man. I won't deny you a chance to live in your dreams."

He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hands nonchalantly from patting Christopher's shoulder. "You can be the Mr. Iverson to your loser subordinates in your Lalaland."

James threw the handkerchief near Christopher's feet and took off.

Christopher never let James' words get to him before.

However, his last remark touched his nerves. Christopher stared James down through his gold-rimmed glasses.

"Fuck! Who does he think he is? Does he think the Iverson Group belongs to him?" Feeling for his boss, Taylor clicked his tongue.

"How did James secure the building of a resort in Terranova? Run checks on it." Christopher gritted his teeth, the growl hidden in his throat bearing fury.

"Yes, sir."

Taylor pursed his lips, pulled out a steel sterilization box, and handed it over with both hands. "This is from him. It arrived today."

Christopher took the box and clutched it tight in his grasp.

"He said that the drug is powerful. Please think it through before using it."

"Got it." Christopher's voice was raspy from urgency.

"After James' statement about Ms. Thompson, the public isn't too kind to her online, Mr. Iverson. Do you need me to remove all the negative comments about her?" Taylor asked with respect. With bloodshot eyes, Christopher gripped the steel box out of shape.

It took a while before he took a long breath. "No."

Taylor was shocked. "A-Are you really not going to do anything about it?"

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