The moment Adrian arrived, his eyes locked onto the disheveled, gaunt figure of Elara. A cold, murderous fury flashed in his gaze.
Vivienne's face drained of color. The whip slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.
Cassian's jaw tightened. Acting on instinct, he stepped in front of Vivienne to shield her.
"Mr. Whitmore, you're awake?"
Adrian didn't even spare him a glance. He strode straight toward Elara, shrugged off his expensive cashmere overcoat, and carefully draped it over her trembling shoulders.
"Elara, Daddy's late. I'm so sorry you had to go through all this."
The words sent shockwaves through the venue, and the crowd erupted.
"What?! President Whitmore is her father?!"
"Then who the hell is Vivienne? Is she the fake heiress?"
Whispers spread through the crowd,
