The look from Paxton barely quelled the rise of lust within James. Human blood always did this to him and it was the reason he'd been able to sexually perform with Victoria during their relationship, and not without it. It irked James that he had to continue to put on a show for his father. What would a quick twist of his neck cost him? Dr. Styles could pick up the pieces of a prematurely slaughtered mogul. James was still a fangling. He could lean on that excuse.
Instead of acting out his fantasy of killing his father and taking Paxton, James exercised self control. He drank his wine.
"Look around you, Paxton." Mr. Weatherby chuckled. "I own seven of the buildings visible through that window alone. My legacy is written all over New York City and London. Beyond real estate, banking, and insurance firms, one can't picture modern horse racing without the Weatherby name to thank for it." Mr. Weatherby shook his head. "My enduring legacy is secured."