Benjamin Richardson was a little puzzled by his boss's actions but didn't ask further, respectfully nodding as he responded, "Yes."
Once the two subordinates had left and the office door closed, Owen Moreland didn't go back to his work. Instead, he stood and walked to the glass wall, gazing through the clear panes at the commercial scenery surrounding Bowe.
Skyscrapers rose high, symbols of prosperity and success, of which three-fifths were owned by Bowe, owned by him.
After a while, Owen Moreland lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, tapped the ash by his leg, and put one hand in his pocket. His composed and nonchalant demeanor underscored his success and steadiness as a man.
It was time to let the old man know that the world now belonged to the younger generation.
Amelia Clarke found out about Bowe's acquisition of the Eastern Press the next afternoon.