Everyone present was shocked. After a moment of silence, the hotel ballroom erupted like a drop of water falling into boiling oil.
"Young Master Landon is actually Elder White's grandson? Is this real or fake?"
"It was confirmed by Elder White himself, so it can't be fake."
...
The discussions around Nathan Firth went unheard, as his gaze was solely fixated on Durrell Landon.
His hands clenched tightly by his side, restraining himself from throwing a punch.
Durrell seemed completely unfazed by becoming the center of attention. He simply sat down leisurely in the seat assigned to him by Elder White, picked up a wine glass, and gently swirled the red liquid within it.
His gaze swept over the doubtful Alexander Skylane, the restrained Nathan Firth, and the others present. He scanned everyone in attendance but did not find the figure he wanted to see.
He couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment, yet he had an inexplicable intuition that she would definitely appear.
