Chapter 4

"Dad, what brings you here? Have you cooled off?" Shania put down the document and stood up to greet me. "We’ll let yesterday's incident slide. Elliot happens to need a quiet place to study, so we're staying here for a few days."

Elliot hurriedly set down the fruit platter and stood up awkwardly. "Mr. Fuller, I'm sorry. Am I causing you trouble? I'll leave right now."

He started to bolt for the door, but Juliette grabbed him.

Juliette walked out of the kitchen carrying a glass of hot milk. She shot me an icy look and thrust the milk into Elliot's hands. "Elliot, sit down. This is the Fullers' house. As the Fullers' daughters, what's wrong with us bringing a friend home to stay?"

She looked at me, her tone laced with dissatisfaction. "Dad, we didn't make a fuss when you cut off our cards and took away our cars this morning. How much longer are you going to keep this up?"

I ignored her, my gaze sweeping across the empty first floor.

The valuable paintings that used to hang in the living room were gone, replaced by several athletic portraits of Elliot.

"What happened to the music room?" I asked, looking directly at Shania.

Shania adjusted her glasses, her tone casual. "Elliot has a lot of gear and nowhere to put it. Adrian hardly comes here, and it was a waste to leave the room empty, so I had it cleared out."

I strode toward the music room at the end of the hallway.

The moment I pushed the door open, I felt the blood rush straight to my head.

The expensive rug that used to cover the music room floor had been rolled up. The floor was now piled high with cheap trendy clothes Elliot had bought during sales.

Adrian’s priceless antique cello had been tossed carelessly into a heap of junk in the corner, like it was a piece of trash. Two of its strings had snapped, and a deep, ugly scratch marred its body.

"Who did this?" I turned around; my voice sounded unusually calm, despite the rage boiling inside me.

Nicole walked down the stairs, yawning. She glanced at the cello on the floor and shrugged indifferently. "The movers bumped into it by accident. It’s just a beat-up old cello; is it really worth causing such a fuss?"

Nicole walked over to the couch and sat down, crossing her legs. "Dad, Adrian usually plays so terribly anyway; it’s a good thing it’s broken. Worst case, I’ll just take out some money from my allowance next month and compensate him with a new one."

"Buy him a new one?" I walked back into the living room and stood before Nicole. "That cello was an heirloom from Adrian’s grandmother; even your life wouldn't be enough to compensate."

Vivian came downstairs holding a set of blueprints. She frowned at my remark. "Dad, could you stop making such a big deal out of everything? Why dwell on the possessions of the dead? Is a living human like Elliot really worth less than a worthless piece of wood?"

Elliot tugged at Shania’s sleeve; his eyes reddened again as tears welled up. "Shania, it’s all my fault. I shouldn't have been tempted by the living conditions here; I should just move back to the dorms."

Shania patted the back of his hand and turned to look at me. "Dad, if you’ve come here today just to pick a fight, you might as well leave. Our project in the West District is at a critical stage. We’re handling billions of dollars in turnover every day; we don’t have time to play along with this kind of family drama.”

I looked at the self-righteous expressions on their faces.

They genuinely believed that because they had control of Fuller Group’s projects, they had me completely under their thumb. They thought the Fullers’ empire would fall apart without them — the four so-called “elites”.

I took out my phone and called Alfred. "Bring them in. Aside from the clothes Elliot is wearing, I want everything in this villa that belongs to them thrown out."