"After your divorce, you will marry my daughter. And my grandchild— my blood —will be the sole heir of Veston Shipping Lines and CorEx Transport and Payment Services."
Duncan held his breath.
Bartolomeu's eyes sharpened like a blade poised against flesh. "As for your first son… you can set up a trust fund for him. Give him money. I am not so heartless." He waved a dismissive hand before his gaze darkened. "But do not ever bring up the idea of him inheriting a single share from either of these companies."
His voice lowered into something even more menacing. "If you are wise… and if you truly care for his safety… you will ensure he stays out of all of this."
The message was clear.
A warning, as glaring as the morning sun. A threat, veiled behind logic.
Duncan swallowed, the weight of the unspoken dangers settling over him like a suffocating shroud.
"I understand, sir."
It was the only response he could give.
