You're sitting at a very expensive looking desk with a very expensive scotch filling a very expensive glass tumbler. This kind of money is what you spent your life working toward and he was just going to walk away? No. He wasn't going to walk away with your grandson and that whore woman. He knew too much and so did she. This was the only way. You pick up the phone and dial your second. "Kill them." He doesn't question the order, loyal to you the way your son never could be.
A little boy walks into the study, followed shortly by a bodyguard that looks so out of place chasing after a child that you can't help but smile. "Andrew," you say, smiling, and the boy lights up and holds his hands up to you. You don't even think twice as you stand and reach for him, picking hip up and placing him on your hip. His parents will be dead soon, because you ordered the kills, and then he'll be all yours. "No one's going to take you away from me. You're going to be my heir now." You kiss his forehead and carry him out of your office. Soon. It'll all be over soon.