Chapter 45: Chapter 45: Explosive News
"You heat up the dishes first, I’ll be right back!"
Ashley Shaw dropped this sentence and ran downstairs.
Downstairs, Warren Prescott saw the lights come on upstairs but wasn’t in a hurry to leave. Instead, he stood there, lit a cigarette, and dialed Mrs. Chase’s number.
"Mrs. Chase, last time you mentioned you wanted to buy a wedding house for your son?"
"Yes, young master, why do you ask?"
"I’ve found a neighborhood for you, it’s relatively close to your son’s company. Though it’s older and has no elevator, the facilities are complete, and the price is reasonable. You should come take a look sometime."
"That would be great, we’ve been worried about finding an affordable house."
"Mhm, I’m nearby; I’ll help you find out if anyone’s selling a house here."
"Thank you, young master."
"It’s nothing."
Warren cut the call, pondering that Mrs. Chase is about to retire and will definitely move in with her son.
With Mrs. Chase here to look after things, there wouldn’t be a time when Ashley and the others need help and can’t find anyone.
Just as he was thinking, the sensor light in the stairwell on the first floor flickered on.
Instinctively, he glanced toward the entrance and saw Ashley Shaw rush out in a hurry.
His heartbeat inexplicably quickened. He stubbed out the cigarette on a trash can and walked toward her.
"What’s wrong?"
His tone carried an affection he himself hadn’t noticed.
Ashley was running so fast, but seeing him still there, she slowed her steps.
"I almost forgot, it’s best for Grandpa Prescott not to eat cake, especially before bed. Elderly people need to control their diet. If you take this cake back, he’ll definitely eat it before bed."
Warren’s eyes darkened slightly.
So it was for Grandpa...
But what else would she rush down for? For him?
Warren found himself a bit amused.
He nodded and said, "Fine, then I’ll keep the cake for myself."
"Better not let Grandpa Prescott see it."
"Alright."
He curled his lips, not sure if he was laughing at the old child at home or himself.
"Then I’ll head back up. You should go home early, too."
After saying this, Ashley turned and went upstairs, without any lingering attachment.
Instead, Warren stood there for quite a while until he heard laughter coming from the window upstairs, and finally turned to get back in his car.
Once he returned home, Warren gave the extra cake to Mr. Coleman and took the leftovers he planned to eat himself inside.
Grandpa Prescott was watching TV in the living room.
Lars Prescott was there too.
The two were chatting about something related to diesel vehicles replacing new energy cars.
This was a project The Prescott Group was planning, but whether it would pass the board was still unknown.
However, it was foreseeable that if the board approved the project, The Prescott Group would collaborate with Lynch Group.
Lynch Group held a top-notch domestic technology for new energy batteries.
Warren sneered.
No wonder Lars Prescott suddenly wanted to match him with Rosalind Lynch; it turns out he had eyes on their technology.
But who knows if the Lynch Group can survive tomorrow?
The news he had his people leak would have a "grand release" during tonight’s prime time at nine.
"Back already?"
Lars Prescott was the first to notice Warren.
Grandpa Prescott also looked over.
Saw the cake in Warren’s hand, and his eyes lit up instantly.
"Is that for me?"
Sure enough, Ashley Shaw was right.
The old guy couldn’t move an inch at the sight of something sweet.
He mercilessly shook his head, "I left it for myself to eat tomorrow after putting it in the fridge."
He wasn’t fond of sweet food, but since it was from Ashley Shaw, it held different significance.
"When did you start liking sweets? Eating all by yourself and not bringing any back," Grandpa Prescott grumbled full of resentment.
Warren ignored the old man’s whining and said, "I’m heading upstairs," as he made his way to the stairs.
He never looked Lars in the eye throughout.
Lars seethed with fury.
"Warren! Stop right there!"
Warren slowly turned his head on the spiral staircase, displaying obvious sarcasm.
"What’s the matter? Or are we talking about the last incident at the company?"
Lars’s confidence instantly wavered.
He took a deep breath and said, "That matter’s been resolved. No need to mention it again."
Implying that the ’problem’ had been ’handled’, and he wouldn’t have any other sons.
Warren chuckled twice. Who would care?
He turned back and continued up the stairs, soon disappearing from sight.
Lars’s face was stormy.
"Cough!" Grandpa Prescott coughed, attracting Lars’s attention.
"What on earth is wrong with you two father and son? Since a year ago, he’s been treating you like this."
Lars was about to respond, but Grandpa Prescott spoke again, "I know Warren quite well. He may seem rude, but he’s clear-headed. You are his father; if he treats you like this, maybe it’s because you did something wrong?"
"Dad..."
"You don’t have to tell me. I’m old, and I don’t want to get involved in your mess. All I want to say is: if you make a mistake, correct it; if you go astray, return."
Grandpa Prescott said, turning up the TV volume.
"I’m watching TV, don’t disturb me, go do your work."
"...Alright."
Lars stiffly got up.
The hall was only filled with the sound of the television.
Lars walked to the staircase, glanced at the old man’s hunched back, and barely audibly sighed.
Maybe he was wrong.
Without the adopted daughter, the old man had become much quieter.
Before he knew it, it was nine in the evening.
Most people would have finished their day’s work by this time, washed up, and started surfing the web on their phones.
Just then, multiple media outlets simultaneously broke a piece of news.
"Explosive! Lynch Group’s new phone model frequently experiencing explosions."
"Lynch Group’s latest phone disfigures beautiful teacher."
"Beware of this phone; it could disfigure you!"
"Lynch Group suppresses news of their phone explosions, disregards consumers’ safety."
"Do not buy Lynch Group’s phone; it’s a time bomb!"
"Battery explosion probability reaching two percent, what is this ’phone of death’?"
Several platforms created eye-catching headlines for the same news.
The content was heartfelt, even interviewing multiple victims.
There were at least ten on-camera cases emerging.
Countless netizens were drawn to the trending topic in a short time.
The public was shocked that so many explosions had occurred with Lynch Group’s new phone model and that they were only now learning about its dangers.
Netizens were awake, picking up keyboards, ready to battle.
"How dare they spend so much on marketing these phones, did they want us dead?"
"Lynch Group should go, pricing so high just harms the rich, not us commoners."
"How could such a phone be released? Don’t regulatory bodies have responsibilities?"
"Lynch Group should just die!"
"I just bought this phone, what do I do now, throw it, throw it, or throw it?"
"Throw it to me; I’ll sell it."
"You up there, if you sell it and it explodes, you’ll be responsible."
"Lynch Group shouldn’t make phones; they should make bombs."
"Oh boy, I thought capitalists were just after my money, didn’t think they’d want my life too."