Frowning, Matthew snapped, “It’s none of your business who calls the shots in this household! If you’re not going to drink, sit down.”
“And what do you mean by sending me away while I’m trying to offer President Cunningham a glass of wine?” the boy challenged him with a glare. “Do you actually think you’re the head of the household? Even if you were, it’d only be polite to allow me to pay my respects. Don’t you think so, President Cunningham?”
The boy’s friends cheered him on and he shot Matthew a smug, disdainful look.
If he managed to crush Matthew under his foot by the end of the night, he would consider his evening a success. As long as he could get the older man to admit defeat, he would have more chances to interact with Sasha in the future.
Unfortunately, Sasha begged to differ and she slammed her hand on the table before shouting angrily, “That’s enough! Mind your friends, Minerva! If you can’t do so, don’t come back in the future!”
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