The door to Box 1 opened, and the atmosphere, already taut with Elizabeth's presence, shifted into something brittle. Julian Sterling stepped inside. He had wiped the sweat from his brow, replaced his frantic expression with a mask of weary wisdom, and straightened his posture. He was a man who had built an empire, and he wasn't about to let a group of twenty-somethings see him crumble.
"Gentlemen," Sterling said, his voice projecting a forced warmth. He moved through the room, offering a firm handshake to Marcus and a respectful nod to Adrian and Noah. "It's been quite a busy weekend. I see the youth of Veyra is finally taking its place at the head of the table."
Leon stood by the window, his arms crossed, giving Julian a look of pure disdain. Sterling ignored it, his eyes immediately locking onto the woman in gold.
