The car door opened, and Lucas stepped out—tall, composed, every inch the commanding presence. His cold gaze swept the crowd like a blade.
"Mr. Hilton!"
Eugene Wright broke into a wide smile, straightening his back out of habit even as age pressed on his frame.
Frank rushed forward eagerly. "Mr. Hilton, hello, I'm Frank Turner."
Lucas ignored the outstretched hand.
Frank's smile stiffened, but he quickly recovered. "Mr. Hilton, we've been waiting for you. Please, this way."
Without a word, Lucas strode inside. Cameras flashed wildly as reporters captured every second.
Somewhere in the crowd, a sharp voice rang out:
"Wait—Isn't Luna actually Sophia? Aren't they married? Why did they arrive separately?"
The remark spread like wildfire. The reporters' eyes lit up—they'd just found their headline.
Sophia hadn't told Lucas she was coming to City Y.
And she certainly hadn't expected the man who hated public events to show up here of all places.
