Can’t Win Me Back by Ginger Sue

Aware that this was an added challenge by Preston, Landon abandoned the fight and sprinted for the elevator a dozen feet away.
He frantically hammered the elevator button. A few seconds later, the door creaked open slowly.
To his dismay, inside the elevator stood five attackers, each wielding sharp blades.
Preston was relaxing in a pool lounger, smoking his favorite cigar brand. He played his favorite clubbing music from his phone, which was already out of style.
Every few minutes, he would look at his watch. Then he would smack his lips with satisfaction and continue to rest his eyes.
After 20 minutes, the elevator facing the entrance to the pool slid open with a ding.
Preston's eyelids fluttered open a fraction before a jolt of awareness sent them springing wide.
He watched as Landon stepped over the bodies beneath him with heavy but determined footsteps. He slowly made his way to the pool, as if he were the God of War, returning triumphantly after a bloody battle.
Landon's icy, handsome features were smeared with blood. His white button-up shirt was stained a vivid red.
"Huh... You're quite something, you little brat," Preston muttered, taking a heavy puff of his cigar, a growing sense of respect for Landon evident in his eyes.
He hadn't expected Landon to emerge from the elevator alive.
In his younger days, Cornelius had been a formidable figure, striking terror into the hearts of many. And now, Landon displayed traces of that same awe-inspiring presence.
Despite appearing pale and feeling cold, Landon's glare at Preston was intense as the former entered the pool area. Multiple cuts adorned his body, and the wound on his arm was still bleeding.
He came close to dying in the elevator. Only because of his love for Lauren and concern for Angelina was he able to stand up to the deadly blades.
"My dearest nephew, you've done well." Preston gave him a thumbs up.
"Lauren and Angelina, where are they?" Landon breathed heavily as the sweat dripping down his face washed away the blood.
"Now that you're here, what's the rush? Let's have a heart-to-heart as uncle and nephew," Preston said, turning off his music with a mysterious smile. "Especially since we'll never have this chance again."
"Did you kill my father and grandfather?"
"Of course," Preston replied, his smile unchanged.
"Why-"
"Because they stood in the way of what I wanted."
"What you wanted? Preston, you're shameless and delusional." Landon's words were sharp, his gaze piercing. "Harper Group was never yours. My grandfather worked hard to build it, and Harper Group earned the prestigious title of being one of the Big Four thanks to my father's tireless efforts. Our achievements today have nothing to do with you!"
"No, no, no." Preston wagged his finger. "What is mine simply refers to what I want. As long as I want something, it belongs to me."
He was a true psychopath!
"Landon, when you were young, I quite liked you. You were a sweet, chubby little thing. I even held you in my arms," Preston reminisced. "It's such a shame that you are my brother's son. If you were mine, I would give you the world."
"You want to become my father? Not in your wildest dreams!" Landon scoffed bitterly. "It is not strange that you have these thoughts. After all, you're infertile. God is truly fair; your infertility is a fitting punishment from a just world. It's just nature's way of sparing your offspring from your cruelty."
Preston's smile faded, replaced by a darker gaze.
"If you want my life, I am right here. Let Lauren and Angelina go, and I'll play with you for a while." Landon's gaze was cold.
"You really are my brother's son. You've got balls!"
Preston then hollered, "Frank, let the two ladies come out!"