Jamison owned more properties than he could count, including several standalone houses, but for convenience, he usually stayed in a spacious apartment close to the hospital where he worked.

Over three thousand square feet, and yet it was just him and his two cats. Other than the cleaning service that came by occasionally, hardly anyone ever visited. The place was so big that walking from his study to the front door took a while. Whoever was outside apparently had no patience, because after ringing the bell a few times, they resorted to banging on the door.

The moment the pounding started, Jamison had a pretty good guess who it was. He opened the door, and sure enough. Micah stood there, clearly drunk – his eyes unfocused, face flushed, arm raised to bang again. But just as he was about to strike, the door swung open, and he stumbled forward, crashing right into Jamison.

Jamison didn’t bother to catch him. He simply stepped aside, letting Micah slam straight into the doorframe. The thud echoed through the hall. It sounded painful.

But Micah, numb with alcohol, didn’t seem to feel a thing. Clutching the doorframe, he managed to steady himself, then glared at Jamison and started shouting.

“Jamison! You–finally opened the door! I thought–thought you were going to hide forever!”

“Micah, you’re drunk. I’m calling someone to take you home.” Jamison was in a good mood tonight and didn’t feel like arguing with a drunken kid, especially not his nephew. He pulled out his phone and dialed Carla.

But before the call even connected, Micah lunged at him, trying to snatch the phone away. “I’m not going home! Don’t you dare kick me out, Jamison. You lied to me! Where did you take Ivy tonight-

“You guys never went to that restaurant. You lied, and–and you didn’t answer my calls…”

Jamison fended off his nephew with one hand while holding the phone in the other, speaking into the receiver in a low, firm voice. “Get over here and pick up Micah. He’s drunk and making a scene at my place.”

“I’m not drunk! I–I love Ivy. I want her back… None of you can stop me

“Uncle, please, I’m begging you, don’t take Ivy from me. I love her. I’ve loved her sincerely.

"...fourteen… We finally got together when she turned eighteen, it’s only been two years…

“If she hadn’t been taken, we’d have gotten married right after college… She’s mine, I can’t lose her…”

Jamison switched the call to speaker, making sure Carla could hear every word. On the other end, Carla was furious hearing her son’s pathetic outburst. She grabbed the family’s driver and rushed out to collect him herself.

Jamison grabbed his nephew by the collar, hauled him up as easily as if he were a child, and dragged him into the living room, dumping him onto the sofa. Even then, Micah kept wailing, rambling on and on. Jamison finally lost patience. He grabbed a glass of water from the table and dumped it right on Micah’s face.

Micah’s whining stopped instantly. He shook the water from his face, looking a little more sober.

“U–Uncle…” Micah hadn’t blacked out; some sense had returned, and now he looked nervous, realizing just how out of line he’d been.

Jamison didn’t bother with niceties. His expression frosted over as he spoke, voice clipped and commanding. “Stop pestering Ivy. You’re not good enough for her.”

Micah’s face twisted with pain, and the words tumbled out before he could stop them. “And you are? Don’t pretend you don’t have feelings for someone else. That’s the only reason you haven’t dated anyone for years–no matter how many blind dates Grandma set up for you, you never cared.”

“Micah!” Jamison’s face darkened, his voice cutting like ice. “You have no place commenting on your elders‘ private affairs. Don’t test my patience.”

“Then why are you testing mine? I love Ivy. I’ve loved her for nearly ten years. Emma was a mistake–my heart always belonged to Ivy. You’ve barely even known her, so what gives you the right to take her from me?”