One dinner was all it took for Morris to earn the Sharp family’s collective scorn.
Jules kept quiet the whole meal, but the brooding in his eyes gave him away. He wanted nothing more than to bring Morris to heel—to turn this wild, stubborn spirit into a docile follower, loyal only to him. But looking at how Morris carried himself, so proud and untouchable, Jules figured he wouldn’t need to lift a finger. The rest of the family—brothers, nephews, and all—would do the dirty work for him.
That thought made Jules secretly pleased. Still, on the surface, he played the fair mediator. “Nathan, Arthus is your younger brother—he’s a bit hotheaded. Cut him some slack, will you? Your grandmother’s kindly arranged a job for you at the company. You ought to thank her for looking out for you.”
If Jules was good at putting up a front, Morris had mastered the art. He smiled, all polite and gentle, but his eyes were cold as ice. “Of course.”
Then he added, “But I appreciate Grandmother’s kindness. I won’t be working at Vincent Corporation. Whether it sinks or swims, makes money or loses it, that has nothing to do with me.”
The whole table went silent. Was he really turning down such a cushy gig?
The old lady stared at Morris, her face a tangle of emotions. She’d assumed he had his eyes on the family fortune, but now she wasn’t so sure.
Or was he just playing hard to get?
She finally spoke. “If Nathan doesn’t want to work at the company, that’s fine. You can stay here with the Sharp family—we have more than enough to support you.”
Her words sounded gracious, but everyone heard the subtext: Morris was being cut out of the inheritance. The rest of the family breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
She turned to Jules. “From now on, give Nathan a bigger allowance each month. The others get two hundred thousand, but they also get a share of the company profits. Nathan’s allowance will be a million a month.”
No one objected. They all knew that no matter how big an allowance looked, it was nothing compared to the fortune that came with dividends—those brought in tens of millions every year.
Morris was getting the short end of the stick, whether he realized it or not.
Jackson, always petty, couldn’t help but gloat. “Nathan, you don’t lift a finger, but your allowance is the biggest. You should really thank the rest of us.”


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The readers' comments on the novel: Reborn From Oblivion (Nellie and Cameron)
Can you please convey this to the person who owns this website? Update “find me in your labyrinth” novel please...author is MIA for several weeks......AND VERY INCONSISTENT...