"I need to distract myself.”

Weylin lightly slapped his cheeks and climbed the stairs to his father’s office.

It was 10 am and he planned to keep himself as busy as possible to avoid the reminiscence of the events revolving around Garaine.

As he climbed a few more steps, a waft of alcohol assaulted his nose. He stopped in his tracks.

“Alcohol?” Weylin frowned. “Who is drinking alcohol this early in the morning?” He quickly reached his father’s door when the scent of alcohol intensified. He gasped when the realization hit him. “Don’t tell me Father…"

"Father!" He opened the door with a loud bang without caring to knock.

As soon as he opened the door, his eyes almost popped out of his sockets while his jaws slacked at the sight that was welcoming him.

Blake was sitting on the floor with his head buried in his arm on the table. He was holding his wife's huge portrait with the other hand. His blazer was pitifully lying on the floor as the owner seemed to discard it hours ago. His wh