A bitter smile flickered across Taylor’s face before he lowered his gaze, quietly sipping his tea.
"...At most, until the end of this year."
Calvin’s heart skipped a beat as he abruptly straightened in his seat, staring at Taylor in disbelief.
"That means there are only about three months left?!"
Even with the poison neutralized, it still wouldn’t make a difference?!
Taylor nodded silently.
The atmosphere in the study instantly grew heavy and suffocating.
"Taylor," Calvin set down his tea, unable to take another sip.
He sat upright, his usually playful peach-blossom eyes now tinged with quiet sorrow as he looked at his friend.
"Don’t worry. If anything happens, Sinclair and I will take care of the Taylor family for you."
He paused, his voice softening.
"As for Melissa, we’ll treat her like our own sister—help her find a good future partner, and watch over her for the rest of her life."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered across Taylor’s lips.
But by the time he lifted his head again, his expression had returned to its earlier somberness.
"Having friends like you and Sinclair... truly, is my greatest fortune."
"Best friends don’t need to say such things between us."
Taylor’s words weighed even heavier on Calvin’s heart.
"Is there anything else you’d like to do during this time?
If so, I’ll do my best to help you."
"Actually, there is,"
Taylor replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he fixed Calvin with a solemn gaze.
"That real estate project you’re holding—I’ve had my eye on it for a while now."
Who on earth makes their final wish about business?
Something about this didn’t sit right with him!
Taylor met Calvin’s gaze and gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"I want to leave Melissa a little more secure."
Calvin studied Taylor’s face, searching for any hint that this might be a joke.
But all he saw was unwavering sincerity. Pressing his lips together, Calvin took a deep breath before pulling out his phone.
"Transfer the estate project to the Taylor Group."
After hanging up the phone, Calvin turned to Taylor.
"In about half an hour, the head of the estate project should be reaching out to Taylor Corporation."
Taylor raised his teacup slightly in Calvin’s direction, a faint smile playing on his handsome features.
"Consider this tea as a toast—my thanks."
Calvin’s lips twitched, and he downed the tea in one gulp.
"Never seen anyone whose dying wish was to screw over their own brother."
Taylor set his cup down, amusement lingering in his eyes.
"You asked what I wanted to do in the time I have left.
That’s hardly the same as a dying wish."
"You’ve only got three months left," Calvin said, his peach-blossom eyes narrowing slightly, a trace of sorrow tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Isn’t that the same thing?"
Taylor pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a slow drag before exhaling with a wry chuckle.
"Taking the estate project is the one thing I’ve wanted most these past three months."
His eyes narrowed slightly, a mischievous glint flashing in their depths.
"As for that last wish, you’ll probably have to wait thirty years to help me fulfill it."
Thirty years? Calvin immediately sensed something amiss.
His hand, holding a cigarette halfway to his lips, froze mid-air.
When he looked up at Taylor again, his handsome face was etched with unmistakable fury.
"You misunderstood," Taylor leaned back on the sofa, his smirk now completely unrestrained.
"Three months is indeed the maximum—but that’s for detox, not my life."
At this point, Calvin couldn’t possibly miss the implication.
"Damn it, Taylor, are you even human?"
He hurled the lighter in his hand mercilessly at his friend’s face, grinding his teeth.
"Having a father like you—now that’s what I call a blessing!"
Taylor caught it effortlessly, his expression unreadable.
He then stood up and handed the lighter back to Calvin, shielding the flame with his hand to light it for him.
There’s something important I need to discuss with you."
Calvin lit his cigarette with the flame Taylor offered, his refined brows arching slightly. "What else is there to discuss?
I don’t have any decent projects left for you to swindle."
But upon closer inspection, the anger in his eyes had completely dissipated.
The fact that his friend had at least thirty more years to live was nothing but good news to him.
As for the projects—what was lost was lost.
Taylor clearly knew this too.
So he swindled his friend without a shred of guilt.
Besides, there was still the matter of what had just happened with Melissa.
"I need to talk to you,"
Taylor said, grinding his cigarette butt forcefully into the ashtray before turning back to Calvin with a noticeably grave expression.
"It’s about Michael."
Hearing that name—one that seemed to have vanished from their lives all over again—Calvin was visibly taken aback.
Calvin paused with another cigarette dangling between his lips, eyebrows lifting in surprise.
As far as this former friend was concerned, Calvin had already gone above and beyond.
Whether the man lived or died was no longer his concern—some choices were personal.
"Very much alive," Taylor confirmed with a slow nod, his gaze steady as he voiced his suspicions.
"But here’s the odd part. Before, he was stubbornly tight-lipped about the caregiver’s whereabouts.
Now, I suspect he’s clinging to some other secret to keep breathing."
"Whatever his game is, it’s definitely not as simple as ’settling the past,’ like he claims."
Of course, Taylor had other reasons to doubt Micheal—chief among them being the separate requests from Sinclair and Camilla to discreetly seek out a venom master, all while keeping it from each other.
Given the recent upheavals in their lives, Micheal was the most glaring anomaly.
But a promise of confidentiality was a promise.
He couldn’t just spell it out for Calvin.
Frowning, Calvin set the cigarette down, his expression hardening into icy severity.
He was the one who brought Michael into the Luther Family.
If this man had done anything else to betray Grandpa Luther and Sinclair, he couldn’t absolve himself of the blame.