Seated on the sofa was none other than his father, Jonah Thomas.

“Dad, a prior heads-up would have been appreciated.

Bruce’s voice, laden with the fatigue of a sleepless night, resonated with depth.

Only then did Jonah rise, pivoting to face Bruce, having first cast a frigid glance at the woman, whose humiliation was palpable.

“It’s nearly noon, Bruce.

You’ve reached an age where focusing on the right path should be your priority.

If your intent is to frolic with women, could you not defer such indulgences until our objectives are met, instead of reckless abandon?”

The woman hugged herself tighter.

While she carried no badge of honor herself, being reprimanded so directly brought waves of humiliation.

Bruce produced a check, filled it out, and extended it to the woman.

“Take this and depart.

Upon glimpsing the figures inscribed on the check, her humiliation was swiftly eclipsed by the sum before her.

She clutched the check, departing with renewed dignity.

“Let’s not make a spectacle of it.

I simply happened to rise a tad later, and it caused no disruption,” Bruce retorted casually, laced with a trace of impatience.

“These are pivotal moments for us.

The acquisition of control over Thomas legacy from Marcus hangs in the balance.

Instead of diverting your attention to women, why not engage more with Marcus and gather intelligence?” Jonah’s frustration was palpable.

Bruce’s demeanor took a somber turn in response.

“Our pivotal period? You’re misconstruing things.

It’s your pivotal period alone.

I’ve been reluctantly ensnared in this chess match of yours, relegated to the role of a mere pawn.

Jonah maintained a veneer of composure, yet within, the flames of power-

hungry ambition continued to blaze.

His aspiration to lay claim to the sumptuous Thomas fortune, an emblem of wealth and influence, had never waned.

He possessed the sagacity to recognize that an overt power struggle would amount to naught, as he’d never been the favored heir in the eyes of the family’s matriarch.

He bided his time and assumed a low profile.

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Bruce couldn’t help but feel a measure of admiration for Jonah.

Despite his fervent yearning for the family legacy, he presented an image of detachment from fame and fortune.

This was in stark contrast to his hot-tempered uncle,

Brock Thomas, whose quick-igniting temper flared at the faintest disagreement.

Nonetheless, their aims were aligned, diverging merely in their chosen paths.

Provoked by Bruce’s wry observation, Jonah retorted in exasperation, “You!

Indeed, once victory graces us, you shall comprehend the correctness of my every move.

In this realm, there exists no soul devoid of the yearning to ascend the apex of the pyramid, to cast a gaze of dominion upon the expanse beneath.

Certainly, within the heart of each man were ambitions for power and wealth, an innate fire that burned bright.

Yet, if the cost of it all was to stand against the very person Bruce had long held in esteem, he pondered whether it was a price worth paying

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