A sleek black stretch limo rolled up, its door swinging open as an automatic step descended. Lysander, decked out in a crisp black suit, maneuvered his wheelchair down the ramp. Despite being seated, Lysander's aura of austere nobility and an almost chilling charisma remained undiminished, commanding respect and a hint of fear from those around him. David hurried forward to greet him, his voice laced with reverence, "Mr. Sinclair, everyone's gathered in the boardroom. Wyatt insisted on your presence at the shareholders' meeting." Wyatt, a stalwart figure in the Sinclair Group's finance department and a board director, had his fingers on the pulse of the company's financial health better than anyone. Meanwhile, the CEO's office was in disarray.

Payton slammed a stack of documents onto the floor, his breaths heaving in frustration, "So Lysander sells some jewelry, and that's supposed to turn our losses into profits? These numbers must be cooked!" The assistant, pale and trembling, cautiously reported, "These figures were delivered by Wyatt's team, sir. As the finance director, he oversees all the accounts. They should be accurate."

This only fueled Payton's rage further. He swept a water glass off the table, standing up in a fury, "A bunch of incompetents! I task you with tarnishing Thalassa's reputation in the design world, and instead, you've made her more popular than ever! Her designs are selling out because of this botched job! If it weren't for her sudden rise in fame, Lysander wouldn't have been able to pull off this comeback!" The more Payton thought about it, the angrier he got, his eyes bloodshot with fury.

He had colluded with the jewelry competition organizers to discredit Thalassa, only for the plan to backfire spectacularly. Instead of ruining her, Thalassa had become a household name in jewelry design, with people clamoring to get their hands on her creations. To Payton's dismay, the public's fervor made Lysander's struggling project a roaring success, filling the company's coffers.

Seeing Lysander hailed as a hero for the company, the old guard was quick to align themselves with him, inviting him to high-level meetings like the shareholders' gathering as if he was one of their own. Feeling his position threatened, Payton began to panic.

His newborn son was frail, and

feared his child might et

a legacy

face a

fate similar to Leopold's.

Payton's outburst, backed away, too scared to

of

knocked and entered

polite bow, "Mr.

is about to start. Everyone is waiting

rage, Payton demanded, "Has Lysander

"He's here, on his

sign first!"

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