CHAPTER 124: GOLFING TROUBLE

NATASHA

I thought Martin's call was cause for worry, but I didn't know whether to scratch my head or laugh about it.

"You played golf inside the house?" Michael asked his father, disbelief evident in his voice as he paced back and forth.

I looked up at the ceiling and saw a hole with the golf club still hanging there.

"Dad, what were you thinking?" He exclaimed, while Martin sat on the couch like a lost child.

"I wasn't playing golf, I was just... practicing my swing," he defended himself with wild hand gestures. "You know I've been cooped up in this house for years, and some of my acquaintances invited me on a golf trip, so I had to practice."

"You have hectares of land outside, Dad. You could've done it there," Michael pointed out, gesturing towards the door.

"I can't go outside. Your mother strictly instructed the bodyguards you hired to keep me from stepping out of the door," Martin replied. "She even banned me from going to the cellar, told the maids to keep alcohol away from me,