Sebastian smoothly hitched a ride on Arthur's momentum. "Mr. Harrison truly speaks with the wisdom of a century-old medical family. His perspective is incredibly fair."
He turned to Serena, the sickeningly fake smile plastered back on his face. "The Montgomery family doesn't deny your talent, Miss Lancaster. It's a wonderful thing for the youth to be gifted. But the young are so easily derailed by excessive praise. The more the outside world worships you, the more your own family needs to keep your feet firmly on the ground. Otherwise, when you're perched high on a pedestal built of empty titles, the inevitable fall is going to shatter you."
Dominic sneered, crossing his arms. "True legacy families value a solid foundation. Relying on fifteen minutes of sensationalized fame is a pathetic way to survive. The people who genuinely care about you won't blindly worship you—they'll remind you to watch your step."
On the surface, it sounded like wise counsel.
As if they weren't publicly trying to humiliate Serena, but were actually acting as her devoted mentors.
In reality, the Montgomerys and the Harrisons were executing a flawless, synchronized attack. Under the repulsive banner of 'for your own good,' they were trying to crush her.
They were attacking her youth. Her lack of a formal pedigree. Accusing her of stealing the glory of the Severia mission. Accusing the Lancaster family of brainwashing the public to make her look like a god.
Old Mr. Lancaster's face was livid. His grip on his cane tightened until his knuckles turned stark white, a storm of absolute fury raging in his eyes.
Tonight was his precious granddaughter's Debutante Gala. Tonight was meant to give her the magnificent welcome she had been robbed of for twenty years. And these absolute parasites had the audacity to stand in his home and hurl mud at her.
Did they honestly think the Lancaster family was completely powerless?
Old Mr. Lancaster slammed his cane into the marble floor, opening his mouth to unleash hell.
But Serena gently placed her hand over his. Her features were perfectly serene, a faint, almost playful smirk playing on her lips. "Grandpa. There is absolutely no rush."

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