The patriarch, feeling the icy gaze, tugged at the corner of his mouth and scoffed, "How do you intend to deal with me?"
The man curled his lip slightly, a cold smile tinged with frost in his eyes: "I have prepared an estate for you in Italy. Tomorrow morning's private jet will take you there. From now on, you can enjoy your twilight years in Italy."
The patriarch had never imagined he would one day be exiled abroad by his own grandson. Disbelieving, he scrutinized Casiano: "Do you even know who raised you to this position?"
Casiano, propping his chin with one hand and devoid of emotion, replied, "Naturally, it was you."
The patriarch, leaning on his dragon-head cane, scoffed again, "I thought you had forgotten your roots."
Casiano tilted his head, his indifferent eyes coldly meeting the patriarch's gaze: "I have not forgotten my roots, nor have I forgotten your indifference back then."
