CHAPTER 30: CYNTHIA'S PAST

Jason barged into the house the next morning without any form of salutations. He wore a mean disdainful look proudly on his face.

"I'm here, what do you want to tell me that couldn't be said over the phone?"

Jackson lifted the cup of hot coffee over his lips, blowing soft small air over it.

"When you calm down, we would talk," he shifted his gaze away from the cup, locking it with his son's own.

Upon realizing what his father was doing, he walked into the kitchen to cool off.

"Can I prepare a cup of coffee for you Sir Jason?" One of the maids offered to help, bowing her head and locking her hands behind her.

"It's alright, I'll do it myself," he said, dismissing her by the wave of his fingers.

He prepared his coffee and reached for the saucer, he placed the cup of coffee on it and walked back into the sitting room with it.

He sat opposite him and sipped his cold coffee, he was never a lover of hot coffees, he always wondered what his father enjoyed in it.

"What do you require my prese