Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Three

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As Nick reached the second floor, he realized that it was not different from the first. Everyone was equally busy, only giving him a brief acknowledgment in the form of a bow as he walked down the hall before returning to their work. Shaking his head, he could only smile to himself. His mother had put great effort into the family dinner.

Arriving in front of his father's office, the last door at the end of the hallway, he knocked twice before letting himself in.

The office was as neat as he always remembered, except for the pile of books on the table. It appeared his father had given up on reading, for he was standing with his hands behind his back overlooking Biannca's garden beyond the floor-to-ceiling window.

He looked forlorn, as one who had lost a lover.

Hiding his chuckle behind a smile, Nick closed the door behind him and walked over to sit on the one-piece sofa near the black oak desk.

"It must have been boring staying here for the whole day, dad."

Without turning around, Victor smiled. His son was home earlier than usual.

'Did something good happen to him today?'

He thought while responding to his blatant tease.

"I would not say I spent the whole day here. Your mother would come by now and then to visit during the day."

"I see."

Nick hummed with understanding, but he knew what transpired. His mother had no less come seeking advice, and his father, unable to give any, had been the less fortunate. Though his father liked being in his office, he seldom did after his retirement. However, as punishment for not giving Evelyn the correct answer, he was subjected to remaining in the office for a certain amount of time.

Victor Ross neither rebelled nor dismissed the punishment because he loved his mother far too much. It was silly how Evelyn had him wrapped around her pinky, but he did not mind.

"Are you saying this to comfort yourself, dad?"

Nick pointed out while stretching to grab one of the books off the table.

"Mom can be a little forgetful when preparing for festivities."

He deliberately stressed the word festivities, knowing that his father would get easily jealous by the very mention of it. His father's greatest enemy was his mother's long hours of planning.

Flipping through the pages with disinterest, Nick sought another one and did the same.

Victor chuckled.

"Your mother will come seeking for me soon, son, so stop teasing this old man."

Said with determination, he swiftly turned around with laugh lines gracing his cheeks. At the age of 57, Victor was as versatile as Nick, their faces infamously identical, except the age catching up to him.

"Indeed she will."

Murmuring, Nick soon became amused when he saw the book cover of one of the books. He raised an eyebrow.

"The Ugly Duckling?"

Victor chuckled when he grabbed the book off the table.

"A fascinating story. It was your favorite story as a child. You would always trouble me to read it to you every night too. But I always asked myself every time you fell asleep before the second page, what does this child see in that story, until I read it myself."

Nick scrunched his nose when he heard that remark while flipping through the book.

"I did not use to trouble you, dad."

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