"Don't you consider this house your home? Why do you have to go back to your apartment so late in the middle of the night?"

Korbyn was known for his bad temper and domineering attitude.

Many people feared him, but Waylen wasn't one of them.

Glancing at his father indifferently, Waylen shrugged and said, "I have to go back and go through some materials for a case."

Korbyn gritted his teeth in anger, but he knew he couldn't force his son to stay.

"Get out! I don't even know why you wanna be a Lawyer! Why are you so hell-bent on cleaning other people's messes?"

Waylen smiled at him mockingly.

“Have you forgotten, Dad? The Fowler

Group pays me eighty million a year as retainer."

Korbyn's nostrils flared and his eyes widened.

"I said get out!"

Waylen didn't need to be told a third time.

He was getting in his car when Korbyn came downstairs and scolded,

“You've been drinking. Do you seriously plan on driving yourself back?

You really are something, Waylen Fowler!"

Without saying a word, Waylen got out of the car and handed the key to the driver.

The driver had worked for the Fowler family for many years. Seeing that

Waylen was in a bad mood, he didn't dare to say anything and quietly drove him back to the apartment.

When the car pulled to a stop, Waylen ordered, “Thank you, Ryder. You should go home now."

His driver, Ryder Nicolson, had no choice but to leave.

Before going inside his apartment, Waylen pulled out a cigarette and clamped it between his lips.

Then he lit it with his lighter.