"Grandpa, what is this~"
Before Jeffrey could even finish, Philip barked, his voice a sharp lash against the air. "Are you still going to play the game, Jeffrey? Or are you truly so heartless that you don't even understand what you've done to her?" His entire face twitched with anger, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "The only reason I still allow you to call me 'Grandpa' is because I need to remind myself that you are my blood. Otherwise…"
His voice cracked.
Philip had gone to the police precinct to negotiate Liam's release. That, at least, had been a simple matter. The true devastation had come when the detective had shown him the grainy surveillance footage from the bar that morning. Philip had watched in growing horror as the scene played out: his grandson, the boy he had once held with pride, the man he had hoped would carry on the family legacy—standing there, speaking to Caruso.
