An Impossible Contract Request
The atmosphere in the private dining room of The Obsidian restaurant felt colder than the air conditioning set to its lowest level. Under the glow of the crystal chandelier reflecting sharp light onto the porcelain plates, four people sat in a suffocating silence. This wasn't just a business dinner; it was a diplomatic battlefield wrapped in the aroma of expensive grilled meat.
Great-Grandmother Ashworth sat at the head of the table, her wrinkled but strong fingers clutching the stem of a wine glass. Beside her, Lianna looked pale, her hands beneath the table constantly squeezing a silk napkin. Cassian sat next to his wife, wearing a suit that was slightly too large—a humiliating gift from Great-Grandmother the other day—and kept his head down like a man wh
