Kay watched in complete happiness as Kyle ate everything quickly, showing how much he thoroughly loved the food. Cooking for your loved one and having them appreciate your cooking gives you a warmth inside that could not be described.

After everything was cleared, Kyle patted his stomach and burped, "That was sooooo good. Thank you, Kay."

Kay smiled, "I'm glad you like it."

"The man that marries you is going to be one lucky man indeed," Kyle said, "Well, even before you could cook, he is already lucky. Now he'll be a lucky fat dude."

Kay laughed and Kyle got up, taking the empty dishes and plates to the sink, "You cook, I clear up. You want milo?"

"Milo?" Kay said, "You still have some?"

Kyle grinned.

"We are now the sole distributor of Milo in Country Tz," Kyle said smugly, "As the boss, it's only natural that I get endless supply."

"It finally got approved, huh?" Kay said, watching Kyle from the dining room.

"Yup," Kyle said, as he placed the newly washed dishes on the drying rack, "So much red tape just for this slice of heaven."

Kay laughed.

When Kyle came over and handed her a cup of iced milo, she asked, "So, when are you meeting Dad?"

Kyle took a sip of his own hot milo and said, "Soon. The plans are finalised but I need one final check on a few matters."

Kay was silent, pondering on this before she looked up at him, "When will it begin?"

"It already has," Kyle said, "I just hope they don't make a move yet though. We still have some loose ends to tie. Those variables are tricky, even though I do have some back-up plans."

Kay nodded, "I hope Plan A runs smoothly."

Kyle sighed, taking a big gulp from the scalding drink, "So do I."

✿ Author only posts on w.e.b.n.o.v.e.l. ✿

It was already late evening, yet Patrick was still in the office. The light outside was slowly fading as the sun set, making the clear blue sky horizon becoming bathed in orangey red.

Patrick glanced briefly at the scene. He shook his head.

He had so much to do, and he couldn't go home yet.

Patrick then frowned as he looked at his PA, "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, Sir," Quentin replied, "Several of our shareholders have already been selling off their shares."

"But not to anyone we know?" Patrick stressed.

"No," Quentin replied, "All those who bought were from different companies, or individuals, that have no connection to any Smith Line."

"It doesn't make sense, though," Patrick mused, "Why would there be the sudden sale of our shares?"

"It isn't unusual, Sir," Quentin replied, "It wasn't sudden and it was over the year or so."

Patrick tapped the files and sighed, "Maybe I'm overthinking all of this."

He just didn't like it.

Kyle was still nowhere to be found and there was these sales going on. Then agian, Quentin could be right. The sale and purchase of shares is part and parcel of any company.

Yet, why now?

They were stable. The shares were not in bad shape. Any normal investor would not be thinking about selling.

On its own, it appeared harmless but if you added up all those sales, it could cause trouble.

Then again, it was not just one person buying them so … there was no danger, right?

Patrick sighed again and pushed the files aside. He really was overthinking this. Perhaps it's because Kyle was not around.

Two years.

No, more than that.

How did he look like now? From the pictures he still sent, one could see how much he had grown and matured but you couldn't really tell from pictures, can you?

The room soon got darker and Patrick reached out to switch on his table lamp when someone else already did.

Patrick jumped back, in a ready position to strike.

Then he froze.

"Hello, Dad," Kyle said.

Patrick's eyes darted to the door, then the window and then back at the door.

The window was slightly open, but he dismissed that. They were on the 18th floor, for goodness sake! He didn't even know why he looked there.

"How did you get in?" Patrick asked, his eyes narrowing.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, "What? No hug?"

"Cut the crap," Patrick hissed then was about to touch the intercom to call Quentin when Kyle covered it.

"Still the same old father," Kyle sighed, sitting down on the chair after he disconnected the intercom, "Can't even welcome your own son that you haven't seen for years?"

"You're the one who stayed away," Patrick said with a huff.

"You're the one that kicked me out," Kyle pointed out, non-plussed.

Patrick stared at him, quiet and Shifu's words floated in his mind.

Suddenly, his anger abated. He swallowed the initial words he had wanted to say and instead, he said what was truly in his heart.

"You know the house was open and we would have welcomed you back home. Why did you have to stay away?"

Kyle stared at his father, surprised.

His father was actually offering an olive branch?

For some reason, he felt his eyes start to water and he looked away, as he said softly, "I know. I needed time."

Patrick was quiet as he studied Kyle's side profile.

His son had truly matured, and looked like a young adult now. There was no semblance of any teenager on that chiseled face, and the loose clothing did not manage to hide the lean, muscular physique underneath.

His eyelashes were long and there was a suspicious shine to it, as if he had been crying.

Then Kyle turned to face his father, his eyes clear, saying clearly, "I'm sorry."

Patrick banged his hands on the table and got up, his face showing the inner turmoil that he was struggling with.

Without a word, he grabbed Kyle by the collar, pulling him up.