The idea of selling his shares was simply too shocking. Even after Durrell Landon had left the private room for a long while, Julian Haworth was still stunned.
He saw Oliver Gale swirling his wine glass, his expression still indifferent as always. In a flash of anger, Julian kicked him squarely.
"Oliver, why do you always act like you're watching a show and never take anything seriously? If we're truly your brothers, for god's sake, at least try to stop him."
Oliver stared at the shoe mark on his pants, pressed his lips together, his face growing slightly cold.
"When has objecting to Durrell's decisions ever made any difference?"
Julian was still fuming: "So are we just supposed to stand by and watch him sell his shares?"
Oliver's eyes dropped slightly, a trace of unease flickering in his gaze:
"I think he might have completely regained his memory."
Julian didn't understand: "Didn't Durrell say he already knew everything ages ago?"
