Now They Want My Forgiveness - Chapter 160: Chapter 160
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Kevin's shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "Dad, let me test the water. Worst case, nothing changes. What if it works?"
Norman waved a hand. "Fine. Just don't make this mess bigger."
The meeting happened the way Kevin and Jordan had scripted it days earlier. They sat in a quiet teahouse, traded small talk, and never once mentioned Troy or stock prices—everything important had already been said before.
When the teapot was empty, Kevin left. When he saw his father, he said, "I saw him. Jordan's willing to talk—but he has conditions."
Norman froze. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," Kevin replied. "If you don't believe me, I can take you to him right now."
"Then let's go—now." Norman had been waiting for this crack in the wall. The Hayes family was a nuisance; Jordan Erwin was an extinction-level asteroid. One more move from him, and Carver Group was history.
Jordan didn't receive them at Erwin Group. Instead, he picked a quiet bistro. When Norman and Kevin walked in, Jordan was already seated, sipping tea like he owned gravity itself.
People always said the same thing: nobody knew where Jordan came from, yet he carried old-money polish in every inch of his posture—straight spine, cufflinks glinting, the kind of calm that made you lower your voice without meaning to.
Norman swallowed once and stepped forward. "Mr. Erwin."
"Have a seat." Jordan didn't look up. Back when his company was still a garage pipe-dream, critics called him arrogant. Now the same critics called it foresight.
Norman folded his hands on the table. "Thank you for seeing me. I came to ask you, how are you going to let Troy—"
Jordan's eyes snapped up, cold enough to freeze coffee. Norman's mouth snapped shut. "Mr. Carver," Jordan said, voice low, "you know exactly what your son did."
Norman's head bobbed fast. "Yes. I do."
"Then you show up here to plead for him?" Jordan leaned back. "Interesting choice."
Color drained from Norman's face. "I-I'm sorry. That was... out of line."
Jordan started to stand. "If you've forgotten the facts, we're done wasting each other's time."
"Please—" Norman's hand shot across the table, palm open. "Don't go. Whatever you need, just say it. I'll agree."
Jordan glanced at Kevin. "Mr. Carver, the only reason I'm sitting here today is because my wife asked me to. She and Kevin go way back. She was convinced he was nothing like Troy.
"That's the only card you've got—so think hard about what comes out of your mouth next."
Norman's shoulders curled inward like paper in flame. "Yeah... that was on me." He swallowed, the words tasting like sawdust.
For the first time in decades, he was the one groveling, and to a kid half his age at that. It stung, but what choice did he have? "I get it. Say what you need to say—I'm listening."
Jordan sat again, fingers steepled. "Your son tried to hurt my wife at her own birthday party. I handled that party, and Troy paid no respect to me.
Then your family doubled down with a smear campaign instead of an apology. Without Kevin, Carver Group would already be rubble."
"Yes. Yes, I know. I'm truly sorry." Norman's murmur barely lifted above the clink of silverware.
Norman waved a hand. "Fine. Just don't make this mess bigger."
The meeting happened the way Kevin and Jordan had scripted it days earlier. They sat in a quiet teahouse, traded small talk, and never once mentioned Troy or stock prices—everything important had already been said before.
When the teapot was empty, Kevin left. When he saw his father, he said, "I saw him. Jordan's willing to talk—but he has conditions."
Norman froze. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," Kevin replied. "If you don't believe me, I can take you to him right now."
"Then let's go—now." Norman had been waiting for this crack in the wall. The Hayes family was a nuisance; Jordan Erwin was an extinction-level asteroid. One more move from him, and Carver Group was history.
Jordan didn't receive them at Erwin Group. Instead, he picked a quiet bistro. When Norman and Kevin walked in, Jordan was already seated, sipping tea like he owned gravity itself.
People always said the same thing: nobody knew where Jordan came from, yet he carried old-money polish in every inch of his posture—straight spine, cufflinks glinting, the kind of calm that made you lower your voice without meaning to.
Norman swallowed once and stepped forward. "Mr. Erwin."
"Have a seat." Jordan didn't look up. Back when his company was still a garage pipe-dream, critics called him arrogant. Now the same critics called it foresight.
Norman folded his hands on the table. "Thank you for seeing me. I came to ask you, how are you going to let Troy—"
Jordan's eyes snapped up, cold enough to freeze coffee. Norman's mouth snapped shut. "Mr. Carver," Jordan said, voice low, "you know exactly what your son did."
Norman's head bobbed fast. "Yes. I do."
"Then you show up here to plead for him?" Jordan leaned back. "Interesting choice."
Color drained from Norman's face. "I-I'm sorry. That was... out of line."
Jordan started to stand. "If you've forgotten the facts, we're done wasting each other's time."
"Please—" Norman's hand shot across the table, palm open. "Don't go. Whatever you need, just say it. I'll agree."
Jordan glanced at Kevin. "Mr. Carver, the only reason I'm sitting here today is because my wife asked me to. She and Kevin go way back. She was convinced he was nothing like Troy.
"That's the only card you've got—so think hard about what comes out of your mouth next."
Norman's shoulders curled inward like paper in flame. "Yeah... that was on me." He swallowed, the words tasting like sawdust.
For the first time in decades, he was the one groveling, and to a kid half his age at that. It stung, but what choice did he have? "I get it. Say what you need to say—I'm listening."
Jordan sat again, fingers steepled. "Your son tried to hurt my wife at her own birthday party. I handled that party, and Troy paid no respect to me.
Then your family doubled down with a smear campaign instead of an apology. Without Kevin, Carver Group would already be rubble."
"Yes. Yes, I know. I'm truly sorry." Norman's murmur barely lifted above the clink of silverware.
End of Now They Want My Forgiveness Chapter 160. Continue reading Chapter 161 or return to Now They Want My Forgiveness book page.