"Since you're unwilling to negotiate, Ian, I'll just be blunt."
Tristan Rowe said seriously, slowly: "I want you to give up the bid for the land in Area B—"
Ian Rowe heard this and snorted coldly, as if he had heard something very amusing. His gaze gradually turned icy: "Uncle, you're quite interesting. What grounds do you have for asking me to give up?"
The smile on Tristan Rowe's face had disappeared at some point: "This is my advice to you, Ian. This bid is destined for me."
"Uncle, with age comes confidence," Ian joked, but his tone was cold.
"This bid isn't the beginning nor the end; sooner or later..." Tristan Rowe suddenly stopped, but Ian probably understood what he meant.
Ian's demeanor remained as indifferent as ever, revealing no emotions. He said plainly, "The Rowe Family raised you, but you're constantly opposing us. Isn't that rather inappropriate?"
