Dylan chuckled softly. “They’re your adoptive parents, aren’t they? Of course, we must entertain them properly.”
Rebecca frowned. Dylan knew perfectly well how bad her relationship with her adoptive parents was.
Dylan led the three Fosters into a private suite in the club.
The room featured a massive round dining table surrounded by comfortable leather sofas.
Dylan gestured for them to sit, then instructed a server to bring wine.
Soon, servers brought in several bottles of expensive red wine, expertly pouring a glass for each person.
Hogan stared at the fine wine before him, his excitement growing. Tonight was the night the Foster family’s fortunes would finally turn around.
Hogan was the first to speak, a sycophantic smile on his face. “Mr. Austin, this club of yours is truly magnificent. It’s an honor for the Foster family to be here with you today. And this wine… it’s excellent.”
Dylan, seated at the head of the table, smiled faintly. He picked up his glass, swirling the red liquid, but made no move to drink. He simply said, “By the way, you mentioned earlier that my wife stole your credit and posed as the Thomson family’s savior. What was that about?”
Hogan laughed. “Well, Mr. Austin, it was like this. When Rebecca was young, she and I happened to save Mr. Thomson’s life. The old man gave us a jade pendant in gratitude. It’s not really about stealing credit. Little Rebecca was the one who spotted him first. We’re all family, so it’s not something worth fighting over.”
“What really upset me was that she disowned us. We are her adoptive parents, after all. Even without blood ties, there’s still affection.”

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