Chapter 1183

Elon’s face turned red from the scolding, and he muttered bitterly, “I mean, I might not be great, but I’m still better than Andrew, right? Are you really saying that in your eyes, your own son is worth less than that guy?”

Richard let out a cold snort. “You really care about comparing yourself to him? Fine then—do you want the truth or a lie?”

Elon shrank back at his father’s sarcastic smile and mumbled, “The lie… I guess.”

Richard scoffed, “Alright. If it’s lies you want, then sure—you’re way more promising than Andrew. That guy doesn’t even deserve to be compared to you.”

Elon’s face twitched. He wanted to laugh, but the words tasted bitter in his mouth.

The lie was that he was better than Andrew. But the truth? The truth was that compared to Andrew, he was absolutely nothing.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized—either way, he came up short. So what was the point in choosing?

He silently cursed, “Damn it!”

Richard folded his hands behind his back, his voice chilling. “You’re no star, but you’re my son—my blood. That alone gives you one thing Andrew will never have: luck.

“He’s a nobody. Even if he excels at everything else, without a background like yours, it all amounts to nothing. So even if you lay around and contribute nothing, Andrew still won’t measure up to you.”

Elon beamed, grinning like a fool. “I knew it! That guy’s not even in my league!”

Richard sighed inwardly, watching his son’s clueless delight. Elon was, unfortunately, very much his son; otherwise, Richard would’ve kicked him to the curb ages ago.

However, Andrew had made Elon eat dirt and humiliated the Goldings. The Five Apex Families had their pride, and Andrew had crossed the line. There was no way the Goldings would ever let him walk free.

Back at the Keller residence, Logan returned and immediately sought out George.

“Father, I’ve delivered our message to both families,” Logan reported.

George lay back in his chair, eyes closed and body frail with age, but his mind still razor-sharp. He gave a soft hum of acknowledgment.

Logan hesitated before speaking again. “Father, the Goldings were easier to handle, but the Haywoods… I don’t think they’ll just roll over for us.”

“It doesn’t matter,” George said calmly. “Roy knows what to do. If the Haywoods can’t cooperate, then they’ll be the ones to suffer.”

Logan frowned slightly. “But Father, we’re forcing both families to drop their vendetta against Andrew. That’s bound to earn us their resentment. From the Keller family’s standpoint, I’m not sure this is a wise move.”

George’s eyes suddenly snapped open. A sharp gleam flashed in them, carrying a pressure that made Logan straighten instinctively.

“Of course, Roy and Richard will hold a grudge. We’re all Apex Families, and here we are, stepping on their pride, forcing our way into their feud.

“Yes, it’s an insult to them. But so what? In any power game, remember this: as long as you’re standing with the winning side, you’re never wrong.”

His voice carried a chilling kind of confidence and arrogance. Even in his mid-70s, with his body still recovering from being healed by Andrew, George had not lost an ounce of his old dominance.

Logan bowed lower, a flicker of awe in his eyes. “So, from what you’re saying, you place a lot of trust in Andrew?”

George chuckled, his gaze sharp. “Trust? No. I plan to bet the entire Keller legacy on that boy. And that’s the difference between us and families like the Haywoods or Goldings—we dare to go all in.”

Logan was not just surprised—he was completely floored. His father had only met Andrew once, yet he was willing to entrust the entire Keller family’s fate to him.

George’s face took on a mysterious smile. “I can see your confusion. You’re wondering why someone like Andrew deserves such commitment, right? Let me remind you—I’ve run the Keller family for over 50 years. I’ve made countless small mistakes, but never a major one.

“Even though I’ve begun handing power over to you, my judgment hasn’t failed me yet. As for Derek, he didn’t say much about Andrew, but I’ve known that man for decades. One glance, and I can tell—he’s grooming Andrew as his right-hand man.

“But that’s not the main reason. I’ve got my own take on the boy. I don’t fully understand the depth of his medical skills, but for someone his age to treat Mosby like a joke? In Blumedale, there aren’t many young elites with that kind of nerve.”