After ending the call, James flung himself onto the bed, eyes lit with satisfaction. A grin lingered on his face as he stared at the ceiling, his thoughts racing with victory.
"Now they'll finally understand… this city will be mine when I'm done!" he thought to himself, feeling powerful.
He was still basking in the afterglow of the news when a sudden knock on his door jolted him back. His expression changed, and he sat up quickly—he wasn't expecting anyone.
"Come in. The door's open," he called out, his eyes fixed on the door in curiosity.
To his surprise, it was his father who stepped in. The moment James saw him, his smile disappeared. His shoulders stiffened, and a frown crept onto his face.
"Good evening, Dad," James greeted, avoiding eye contact and turning his face away.
His father walked in, smiling gently, but said nothing. He didn't even acknowledge James's greeting.
The silence became thick and uncomfortable. James grew irritated and finally turned to face him.
