Westley sat there for a long time, frozen.

The manager saw how much of a weasel he was and got enraged. Yanking his arm, he smirked, “Looks like you’re not willing to pack up and leave! Do you think you own Lockwood Corporation? Or, perhaps you fancy thinking that Mr. Mason is your own son? Listen to me carefully. Your ass is fired!”

Westley was a refined and cultured man. He had never been treated in this horrible way. He said gently, “Mason is indeed my son!”

That stunned the manager at fir