Soon after, a tall and upright figure walked in with steady steps.
Dressed in a luxurious black suit, exuding an air of calm and nobility.
He stood at the door, his dark eyes sweeping coldly and indifferently around him, and finally settling on Ahern, who was closest to him.
That icy gaze, devoid of warmth, seemed filled with shards of ice and snow, making Ahern's steps suddenly falter, nearly tripping over himself.
Someone slowly swept past beside him, and upon returning to his senses, he realized it was the nameless underling from earlier.
"Mr. Russo, what brings you here?"
Vincent closed the door, walked up to Joel Russo, and whispered something to him. Only then did Joel nod.
"Are you Malcom Owens?"
"Yes." Malcom Owens replied modestly yet firmly, finally turning to glance towards the fitting room, and added quietly:
"President Vanderbilt is trying on dresses inside."
Joel Russo simply uttered a soft "Mm," and walked towards the fitting room.
