Chapter 437: 433, going on a business trip again?
Banyan City, Locke Family.
Max Locke hurried through the family gate, heading straight for the old patriarch sitting in the armchair watching television.
"Dad," he called out, then whispered a sentence into the old man’s ear.
The old patriarch’s tiger-like eyes suddenly narrowed, then he widened them and turned his head to look at his son.
"Is this news true?"
"Mhm, Little Gao personally went to investigate," Max Locke nodded with a grave expression.
The old patriarch turned back. His hands resting on his cane, facing forward, his eyes once again narrowed as he slightly nodded his head as if calculating something.
"Do you know who did it?"
"They say it was drunk driving, but according to the information Little Gao gathered, the family of the driver at fault mentioned that her husband brought home a sum of money the day before the accident, even advising her to take good care of their son from now on. Following this clue, Little Gao..."
"Get to the point!" Max Locke hadn’t finished speaking when the old patriarch interrupted him impatiently, tapping his cane, clearly showing his impatience.
"Seems like it was the third brother’s man."
Max Locke skipped the details and went straight to the conclusion.
The old patriarch’s eyes half-closed, the corners of his lips unconsciously curled up, and a cold chuckle spilled out.
"Humph! That foreign devil thinks too highly of himself, ignoring our warnings. Now, he has got a taste of his own medicine."
After speaking, he turned his tiger-like gaze sternly toward his son.
"Wasn’t that third brother already behind bars?"
"Dad, it’s been over thirty years. He’s almost as old as you now. I’ve heard he got some serious illness and spent money to get medical parole."
The old patriarch turned back and snorted coldly, "If it wasn’t for our cooperation back then to suppress the matter, he would’ve probably been shot by now!"
As father and son talked, Alder Locke came down the stairs, his jeans and leather jacket casual, his short hair a mess, humming tunelessly as he fidgeted with his car keys.
He stopped halfway down the stairs when he saw his father standing beside the old patriarch, and leaned forward slightly, "Yo, dad, you’re back!"
"Mhm," Max Locke replied nasally, his son’s appearance causing him a headache.
The old patriarch next to him spoke up, "Where are you headed?"
"To see your granddaughter-in-law."
Alder Locke continued walking down with a cheeky grin, but he was stopped before he could leave the house by the old patriarch.
"Alder Locke! I’m reminding you once again, do not take my words lightly! That woman will not enter this house unless I’m dead!"
"Dad, look at grandpa. It’s not easy for me to fall for a girl, and he still stands in my way."
Standing in the living room, Alder Locke felt wronged. Max Locke surreptitiously signaled his son, "Go back! Listen to grandpa!"
Alder Locke was stunned for a moment, and seeing his father still secretly gesturing, he huffed unhappily and went back upstairs.
...
In the morning, when Nathan Moore came downstairs, Olivia Zane was busy arranging bowls and chopsticks at the dining table.
Seeing Nathan Moore with luggage, her heart panicked and she quickly approached him.
"Nathan, are you going on another business trip?" Why didn’t you tell her last night?
"No, big brother’s woman is having her first tour, and a few of us brothers are going to show our support."
"In which city? Do you want me to come with you?" Olivia Zane asked with a smile on her face but didn’t feel good inside; Nicholas Croft’s woman was having a concert, and he was going to support her, but without bringing his wife.
"No need, you haven’t fully recovered yet. Just rest at home. It’s just flying over to show support, I’ll be back in a few days."
Nathan Moore gently patted Olivia Zane’s shoulder, then took out his phone and called Ewan Zimmerman with a frown and an unhappy voice.
"What’s with dragging your feet in picking someone up? Where are you now?"
"President, I’m about to arrive at the villa gate right now."
Ewan checked the time; he was actually ahead by more than ten minutes, so why was he still getting an earful?
"Got it!" Three words, also spoken in an unhappy tone, he hung up the call. Nathan Moore patted Olivia Zane’s shoulder again, "I’m leaving, make sure to eat on time."
After saying that, he walked toward the door with his suitcase.
Watching Nathan Moore’s retreating figure, Olivia Zane’s hands hanging by her sides slowly curled into fists.