Gilbert was sitting in his work office. Deep in thought, he hadn't gone down for a while, he appreciated the break he'd given himself over the week. Trent had volunteered himself to be the one who occasionally went down there to foresee and ensure it operated well.
He wasn't someone that trusted others so easily, he didn't know whether it was because Trent raised him or the fact that old age was making him soft but Trent was an individual he trusted the most.
Initially, only registered Blakesons could go down there, butlers like him would only go if their master wanted it so. But Gilbert broke that rule and registered Trent so that he would go down there without him.
If his father knew, he'd be turning on his grave right now and he probably was, but that was of little matter to him. He had his own demons that were threatening everything he'd ever built.
"Are you sure sir?" Trent asked, thinking his master should take more time. He didn't want a repeat of him breaking down.
"That's quite enough Trent, I'm not a newborn made out of glass." He wore an annoyed expression, he despised it the most when Trent treated him like a child.
He understood why, he'll probably always be a child to him but he didn't have to like it. Something so insignificant always managed to put him in a foul mood.
Trent was about to reply, saying he may as well have been but was glad nonetheless that the intercom interrupted him from uttering those accursed words, he almost committed a grave sin, he held his tongue and listened.
"Sir, you have a visitor. Its your son, and some friends..."
The intercom sounded. Gilbert wasn't in the mood for any of this. He'd tried his best to distance himself from his son, but he just won't take the hint. Even lying about the death of his mother wasn't enough to break him away.
If it was enough, he wouldn't be here at his company building, for no reason at all unless he came to take his life which he welcomed with open arms. He wasn't suicidal, far from it, he wasn't ready to die either. But for reasons unknown he'd let his son do him in.
Something Trent scolded him for on multiple occasions. To him, young master Isaac was many things, he didn't wish him to add murderer to the list. It just wasn't right.
"If I'm to inherit this place one day, then I should be learning to ropes more closely, right?" He initially intended to let the playful air simmer for a while but his father's voice forced his intentions out of him.
Gilbert searched his son's face for any dishonesty. Isaac felt utterly and completely helpless, his father's piercing gaze made him feel very naked and very seen. He didn't like that at all. The vulnerability that forced its way out made him sick.
"Is that right? You have siblings on the way, competition won't be as easy as when you were an only child." He told him honestly, his voice deepening by the second, as if he was trying to scare him away.
"I'm willing to put in the work. They're my younger siblings, I want to be the man they'll follow around with admiration." Isaac answered, he'd clearly thought about this very carefully.
Gilbert stopped a smile from forming. It wasn't pride, but it was something positive he felt towards Isaac. It was something he never thought he'd feel again about anyone.
"Then, why did you bring your followers here?"
The air suddenly shifted to awkward.
"They're my friends." He announced proudly.
But to Gilbert, it was one and the same thing. He was about to retorted when his phone rang. It was one of the security people from under them.
"Sir, there's been an explosion. We can't pinpoint the location exactly but it's fair to assess that, the ring has been breached."
Little prickles all over his body made themselves known. This wasn't a good time for the ring to be under attack. This was also a first time, they didn't really have countermeasures.
"Trent, let's go."