Chapter 198: It Feels Good to Be Cared For

The question hung in the air, too severe for anyone to answer.

Victor slammed his hand on the armrest. "Everyone shut up!"

The hall fell completely silent.

Victor rose to his feet, leaning on his cane, his gaze sharp as a blade as it swept across every face in the room. "Charles's children are my great-grandchildren. This matter is not up for discussion."

"Dad!" Brian's voice rose in desperation. "You can't be this biased! What if the children aren't—"

"Uncle Brian."

Charles's voice wasn't loud, but it stopped Brian mid-sentence. He turned and walked toward his uncle, step by deliberate step.

"You just said the children might not be mine." Charles's tone was calm—eerily calm. "So tell me, Uncle Brian—whose do you think they are?"

Brian's skin crawled under that stare, but he forced himself to continue. "How should I know? Diana disappeared for five years. Who knows what she was doing out there—"

"Enough."

This time it was Victor who spoke.

His face had turned frighteningly dark. He looked at Brian, enunciating each word. "Brian. Don't push your luck."

"I'm doing this for the Windsor family!" Brian's voice climbed higher. "Dad, you can't just take Charles's word for it! At minimum, there should be a paternity test. There should be a formal procedure. There should be—"

"Should be what?" Charles suddenly smiled. It was a cold smile that never reached his eyes. "Should I prove in front of the entire family that my children are mine? Uncle Brian, are you trying to humiliate me?"

He took a step back, creating distance, though his gaze remained locked on Brian. "Or is it that you don't actually care whether they're mine or not—you just need an excuse? An excuse to force me to back down. Maybe even an excuse to force me to hand over control of the company?"

The words hit like a stone thrown into still water, sending ripples through the room. Several shareholders' faces changed color immediately.

Brian's reaction was almost visceral. "You're talking nonsense!"

"Nonsense?"

Charles pulled a thin document folder from his jacket pocket and tossed it casually onto the nearby coffee table.

"Uncle Brian, why don't you take a look and tell me which part is nonsense?"

The unsealed folder spilled several pages across the table.

On top was a photocopy of a financial report, one line circled in red pen.

Brian's face went white.

"Last year's Sycamore Avenue project. Eight hundred million dollars in losses on paper."

Charles's voice rang clear in the silent hall.

"But when I checked the actual cash flow, I found three transfers with unclear destinations. Total amount—five hundred and forty million dollars. Uncle Brian, care to explain?"

"You... you investigated me?" Brian's voice shook.

"Investigated you?"

Charles laughed.

"I'm the CEO of Windsor Group. Auditing project fund flows is my responsibility. What—you don't think I should do my job, Uncle Brian?"

He picked up another document. "Then there's the Starry Sky District land bid from two years ago. We'd already won the contract, but somehow it mysteriously went to our competitor instead. Afterward, that company paid a 'thank you fee' to the middleman—three million dollars, transferred directly to your offshore account."

Sweat beaded on Brian's forehead.

"I didn't want to bring this up today." Charles returned the documents to the folder, then turned to face everyone in the room. "But since Uncle Brian insists on making my children the issue, I suppose everyone should see who's really damaging the Windsor family's interests."

The hall fell deathly quiet. The shareholders exchanged glances, none daring to speak. Even the two family elders frowned, their expressions turning complicated as they looked at Brian.

Victor sank slowly back into his seat with a heavy sigh.

"Brian," his voice carried deep fatigue, "you've disappointed me beyond words."

"Dad, let me explain—"

"There's nothing to explain." Victor waved him off. "Starting tomorrow, all your projects will be reassigned. And from this day forward, you are not to interfere in any company business."

"Dad!" Brian's desperation broke through. "You can't do this! I've worked myself to the bone for the Windsor family all these years—"

"Worked yourself to the bone siphoning company funds into your own pockets?" Charles's voice was ice. "Uncle Brian, Grandpa's already being generous. If this evidence went to the authorities, you'd be in an interrogation room right now instead of standing here."

Brian's expression darkened. His eyes flickered with indecision for a moment before he finally bit down hard and turned to leave.

Charles didn't watch him go. Instead, he addressed the shareholders. "If you came here today for the good of the company, we can talk. If you came for other reasons—"

He paused, his gaze sweeping across each face.

"—then there's nothing to discuss."

Everett was the first to recover, forcing a dry laugh. "Of course we're here about the company. Charles, your management over these past years speaks for itself. We all support you."

The other two quickly echoed their agreement.

Charles nodded, his expression neutral. "Good. It's late. We can discuss the details another time."

It was a dismissal. The shareholders left as though they'd been granted pardon. The two elders also rose and, as they passed Charles, patted his shoulder with something left unsaid before departing.

Only Victor and Charles remained in the hall.

Victor leaned back on the sofa, eyes closed, sighing softly. Charles walked over and crouched in front of him. "Grandpa, I'm sorry. I put you in a difficult position."

Victor opened his eyes, studying him with a complicated expression. "You had this evidence prepared all along?"

"Yes." Charles didn't deny it. "Uncle Brian's been getting greedier over the years. I've always known. I turned a blind eye because he's family—as long as he didn't go too far."

"Then why today...?"

"Because he crossed my line." Charles's voice was steady.

Victor fell silent for a long moment before releasing another heavy sigh. "You're exactly like your father."

Charles said nothing.

When his father died ten years ago, Charles had just taken over the company. He'd used similar methods to clear out a group of old-guard executives. Victor had called him ruthless back then. Now, looking back, perhaps this was simply the fate of Windsor men—when it was time to be ruthless, there could be no hesitation.

Victor looked at him. "Since it's confirmed the children are yours—next weekend at the family dinner, introduce them properly to everyone."

"Thank you, Grandpa."

After handling everything, Charles sent Diana a message telling her it had all been resolved.

On the apartment balcony, Lucas looked at Diana with reluctance written across his face. "I'm going back to Valeria."

He'd seen the photos from the sports day online. In them, all four of them—Diana, Charles, and the children—were smiling. Diana and the kids seemed to have accepted Charles.

Lucas had always known he and Diana would never be together. All these years, he'd known. Diana only saw him as a friend.

Now, seeing her find her own happiness, he could finally let go.

Diana's eyes reddened. She stepped forward and embraced him. "Lucas, thank you."