"You flatter me, Mr. Micheal," Uncle Carlos had already regained his composure, bowing slightly as he stepped aside.
"Mr. Micheal, grandpa is waiting in the drawing room.
Please, this way."
"Mm," A faint smirk tugged at Calvin's lips as he gave a slight nod.
"Uncle Carlos, lead the way."
Since he was the one who brought Micheal in, he had every intention of seeing this through.
It would be best if Micheal was genuinely here to apologize.
If not—he'd be the first to make sure the man regretted it.
*Mr. Micheal,*
*Mr. Calvin,*
The Luther Family still clung to their rigid hierarchy, drawing clear lines between insiders and outsiders.
Micheal's smile remained unchanged, but a shadow flickered deep in his eyes.
With Uncle Carlos guiding them, the group made their way toward the drawing room.
Several servants watched the retreating figures and began whispering among themselves.
"Who's that man in the wheelchair?"
