Chapter 567

From inside the study, the sound of crashing and breaking echoed loudly. Outside the door, the butler and maids exchanged uneasy glances, turning away in discomfort. Half an hour passed before the door was kicked open forcefully.

As soon as Marion stepped out, the butler hurried over, handing him a clean, warm towel. “Sir, you know how Mr. Houston Sr.’s temper can be. Don’t let it get to you.”

Marion wiped his hands casually before tossing the towel back to the butler, his eyes cold as they swept over him. “Make sure I don’t catch him plotting anything involving Debra. Otherwise…”

“Rest assured. Mr. Houston Sr. has been retired for years now. He wouldn’t dare do anything to her.”

Marion turned and walked away.

The butler wiped the cold sweat from his brow, taking a deep breath before pushing open the study door. Inside, Caleb was seated in his chair, breathing heavily. The butler handed him the towel that had been used earlier, trying to be delicate with his words.

“Mr. Houston Sr., what happened just now? Why get so worked up with Mr. Marion Houston?”

Caleb huffed, his chest heaving. “He’s nothing like his father. Is he even really my grandson? Did they ever do a proper DNA test? Dwayne was refined, and Itzel was gentle. Where the hell does Marion get that temper from?”

The butler coughed awkwardly. “Could it be that he takes after you?”

“Me? Do I behave like that?” Caleb’s temper flared again.

The butler gave an uneasy chuckle, not daring to say more.

Caleb’s voice dropped. “The more he tries to stop me from meeting that girl, the more I want to see her. What? Am I not allowed to meet my future granddaughter-in-law?”

“Mr. Houston Sr…,” the butler began.

“Go,” Caleb ordered. “Arrange a meeting. I want to have a good conversation with her.”

“But…”

“No buts. If you can’t get her to come, pack your bags and leave.”

The butler could only sigh, wiping his forehead as he walked out. Turning to a nearby maid, he instructed, “Send an invitation to Ms. Frazier. Tell her Mr. Houston Sr. would like to invite her for a visit.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wait,” the butler added. “Make sure the invitation says it’s just a friendly visit. And for the love of God, don’t let Mr. Marion Houston find out.”

That afternoon, Debra received the invitation. She held the finely crafted envelope in her hand, examining it closely before turning to her assistant.

“Is this really from the Houston family?”

“We double-checked. It’s legit.”

“You’re sure?”

Debra placed the invitation in front of Ben. The letter was handwritten on expensive stationery, embossed with the Houston family crest.

[Dear Ms. Frazier, you are cordially invited to join us for lunch tomorrow at 10 a.m. at No. 001 Ehando Road. P.S.: It’s just a friendly visit, nothing more. No need to worry. And please, don’t tell Mr. Marion Houston.]

At the bottom, there was a sweet little smiley face.

Ben hesitated after reading it. “I can’t say I’m entirely sure.” No one would write ‘P.S.’ on an invitation. “Check the address. If it’s really the Houston family’s old house, I’ll go tomorrow.”

“But, Madam, why would Mr. Houston Sr. want to meet you out of the blue? It can’t be just for lunch, right?”