Too Late to Hold Me Back novel Chapter 1187

Do you think everyone is as pathetic as you? You can't see past your own shallow greed."

"Alright, it's getting late. I'm leaving."

Master Ellis declared.

"I didn't call you here tonight to catch up. I called you to deliver a warning: stay away from my apprentice.

That house near Aethelgard University is her private property, not mine. I live with her now.

The only reason she didn't have you thrown out last time was out of respect for me. I've already told my security team—if you show up there again, they will break your legs."

With that, Master Ellis turned and walked out. The mother and son stared at his retreating back in stunned silence.

After a long moment, the young man finally spoke. "Why is he like this? This isn't how it was supposed to go.

He doesn't love you anymore, and he feels absolutely nothing for me."

"I know," Chloe muttered. "I thought he stayed single all these years because he was waiting for me. I never imagined he could be so ruthless. He really doesn't care about you at all."

"What do we do, Mom? If he cuts us off, we can't even afford to live."

"Don't panic. We'll find a way."

Chloe had captured Jordan's heart once; she was confident she could find a way to manipulate him again.

...

Meanwhile, when Mira and Owen returned home, they were surprised to find Lacey Quinn Mercer waiting for them in the living room.

Rachel looked apologetic. "She refused to leave the estate gates and insisted on seeing you. I figured it was better to let her in than have her make a scene outside..."

"It's fine," Mira said calmly.

Owen didn't even acknowledge Lacey. He walked straight past her and headed upstairs.

Mira took her time washing her hands and changing into comfortable loungewear before sitting across from Lacey. "Speak. What do you want?"

Dismissing her entirely, Mira moved to the dining table, ready to eat.

Lacey stood up awkwardly and hurried toward the door. Rachel stepped in, offering a polite, "Safe travels."

After dinner, Kieran Holt called. "Boss, Damon Mercer is holding a concert next week. Do you want to go?"

"Did he ask you to tell me that?"

Damon was just an artist under Solflare Entertainment. Even if his career was booming, it hardly warranted a personal phone call from the General Manager to the Board Chair.

"Yes," Kieran admitted helplessly.

"You know the history between us. I won't sabotage his career—let him grow however he wants."

After all, Damon's profits fed directly into Solflare's revenues.

"But I won't give him the green light, either. Treat him exactly the same as any other artist in his tier."