Hearing the question, Desmond glared at him, wishing he could shoot arrows from his eyes and send him straight to join his parents in the world beyond.
Among all the worst-case scenarios he had imagined for today, meeting a walking Davis was not one of them. He had expected the setup on the road to bring back good news—perhaps that Davis was in the hospital again, just like before.
And if that plan failed, he had been prepared to convince the board to vote in his favor, presenting Davis's incapacity as a major setback. But now, seeing him standing here in the flesh—alive, composed, and very much in control—there was no way Desmond would let him win easily.
His lips curled into a mocking smirk.
"Dear nephew... don't be in such a hurry to oust me from the seat," he sneered, a challenging glint flashing in his eyes.
Davis raised a brow at him, silently granting his uncle the permission to speak.
