OSWALD'S hands clenched into tight fists as he stared at his mother, the weight of her request sinking in. His face was unreadable, but his knuckles had turned white from the pressure.

"You want me to do what? Release Carlson?" His voice was deceptively calm, but the tension in the room thickened instantly.

Lady Frances inhaled sharply, steadying herself.

"Yes, Oswald. He is your brother."

"My 'brother'?" He let out a dry chuckle, his eyes dark with resentment. "You mean the same brother who tried to kill me? Who attempted to steal my company's documents and sabotage me? That brother?"

She sighed deeply.

"He has suffered enough," she countered, her...