Suddenly, his phone rang, jolting him from his trance. He answered to hear a familiar voice.

“Mr. Rhys, this is Hunter Anderson from the Swinton Group. I understand today is your wedding anniversary with Ms. Nicholson, so I’ve prepared a gift. Do you have some time today?”

“Thank you for your kindness, but I’m afraid we don’t need a gift,” Dustin replied.

“Why?” Hunter asked, taken aback. He sensed something was amiss.

“Is there anything else you’d like to discuss, Mr. Anderson?” Dustin prompted.

“Actually, yes,” Hunter said, clearing his throat awkwardly. “A friend has a strange illness. Many doctors have been unable to help, and I was hoping you could.”

“Mr. Anderson, you know my rules.”

“Of course! I’m sincere. My friend possesses some canscora—you were looking for it, I recall. He’d be willing to part with it if you help him,” Hunter explained.

“Is this true?” Dustin asked seriously.

“Yes!”

“Very well. If so, I’ll take a look.” Dustin readily agreed. He wasn't interested in money or jewels, but in rare herbs and plants—essential for saving lives.

“Thank you, Mr. Rhys! I’ll send a car immediately!” Hunter exclaimed, relieved. As president of the Swinton Group and one of the “Mighty Three,” Hunter acted surprisingly timid around Dustin.

“Great, one down, five to go. I should have enough time,” Dustin muttered, his mood slightly improved.

The elevator doors opened with a ding. Stepping out, he saw two familiar figures approaching: Dahlia’s mother, Florence Franklin, and her brother, James Nicholson.

“Mom, James, why are you here?” Dustin greeted.

“Did you and Dahlia divorce?” Florence asked bluntly.

“Yes, we did,” Dustin replied with a strained smile. “It’s not Dahlia’s fault; it’s mine. Don’t blame her.” He intended a peaceful end to their marriage. Florence snorted coldly.

“Of course it’s your fault. I know my daughter. If you hadn’t done something wrong, why would she divorce you?”

Dustin was stunned. This was victim-blaming?

“Mom, you know how I’ve treated her these past three years. I haven’t betrayed her trust,” Dustin said.

“Who knows what you’ve done behind our backs?” Florence scoffed. “My daughter was right to divorce you! She’s clearly out of your league!”

“Mom, don’t you think you’re overstepping?” Dustin frowned. He’d helped the Nicholson family three years prior, propelling them to their current success.

“Overstepping? Am I not telling the truth?” Florence crossed her arms.

“That’s enough, Mother. Stop wasting time,” James interrupted, stepping forward. “Rhys, I don’t care about the divorce, but you’re giving me all the money you received from my sister.”

“Money? What money?” Dustin was dumbfounded.

“Don’t feign ignorance! I know she gave you eight million dollars in alimony!” James said coldly.

“That’s right! That’s my daughter’s money. Give it back!” Florence demanded, extending her hand.

“I didn’t take any money from her,” Dustin denied.

“Bullshit! Who would refuse eight million dollars? Do you think we're idiots?” James disbelieved him.

“Rhys, be smart and give us the money. Don’t make me angry!” Florence warned.

“Call Dahlia and ask her if you don’t believe me,” Dustin said, refusing further explanation.

“Threatening us? You’re not leaving with a cent!” Florence snarled.

“Mom, he’s too dense. Let’s search his pockets!” James said impatiently, immediately reaching into Dustin’s pockets. Florence followed suit.

“Mom, do you have to?” Dustin frowned, surprised by this immediate confrontation. Their ruthlessness shocked him.

Florence spat on the ground. “Who are you calling ‘Mom’? Who do you think you are?” She continued searching.

After a fruitless search, James spotted the crystal necklace around Dustin’s neck and roughly yanked it off.

“Isn’t this my sister’s necklace? Did you steal it?” James demanded.

“This is a Rhys family heirloom. Give it back!” Dustin’s expression darkened. He wouldn’t take money, but he wouldn’t relinquish his mother’s keepsake.

“A family heirloom? Valuable?” James’ eyes gleamed. “Then this is your repayment for three years. Let’s go!” Florence gestured, preparing to leave.

“Stop!” Dustin grabbed James’ wrist. “Give me back the necklace!”

“Ouch! Let go!” James cried out in pain.

“Give it back,” Dustin repeated, his tone dangerous.

“Fine, I’d rather throw it away!” James, unable to free himself, threw the necklace to the ground. It shattered into pieces. Dustin blanched; it was his only remaining memento of his mother.

“I’d rather break it than give it back!” James said, rubbing his wrist.

Dustin’s knuckles cracked as his fists clenched. His eyes were red with anger.

“You son of a bitch!” he roared, slapping James hard across the face. James reeled, falling to the ground, dazed.

“How dare you hit my son!” Florence screamed, rushing to his aid.

“F*** off!” Dustin glared at her, his intensity freezing her in place.