Mr. Singers turned around with a twisted grin that barely passed for a smile, his piercing gaze landing on a man in his early seventies. Despite his snow-white hair, the lines etched on his face seemed to defy his age, and he moved with a vigour that belied any need for assistance.
Trailing behind him were two loyal aides.
His name was Gibson. Prior to Mr. Singers' journey to Vegas, he had attempted to secure an alliance through marriage by introducing his most enchanting granddaughter to Mr. Singers. However, his proposal had been summarily rejected.
"Apologize," Mr. Singers commanded icily, his usually stoic visage now clouded with darkness.
Mr. Gibson stared back at Mr. Singers in disbelief. Despite their years of collaboration, this was the first time Mr. Singers had regarded him w
