They were merely the rocks thrown into the brush to test the waters.
As for who was holding the leash...
Serena lowered her eyes, the dangerous smirk on her lips deepening into something sharp and deadly. From the second Arthur Harrison opened his mouth, she had been waiting. Waiting for the rat hiding in the shadows to scurry out into the light.
And she wouldn't have to wait much longer. The rat was already getting impatient.
Right on cue, her prey arrived.
A middle-aged man in a sharp, dark tailored suit stepped gracefully out of the crowd. He was in his late forties, exuding an aura of refined intellect and the effortless authority of someone accustomed to power. Compared to Sebastian's desperate arrogance and Arthur's rehearsed pretension, this man felt genuinely approachable and warm.
It was Alaric Sinclair. Chairman of the Elyndor Biological Tech Charity Foundation.
Over the years, the Sinclair Foundation had bankrolled countless high-profile medical research projects. He commanded immense respect in both domestic and international scientific circles.
The moment he stepped forward, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Alaric carried infinitely more weight than a fading, secretive dynasty like the Montgomerys.
Alaric approached the group, offering polite, seamless nods to Old Mr. Lancaster and Old Mr. Blackwood. "Mr. Lancaster. Tonight is a joyous occasion. Please accept my warmest congratulations on the safe return of your granddaughter."


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