When Leah and her companions arrived at the Coldwell Manor, Griffith Squire and Aurora Coldwell were cuddling on the sofa. Aurora was flipping through bridal gown samples, while Griffith was on the phone, talking while feeding his wife with sliced fruits.
The man's long legs were elegantly crossed, his handsome face carrying a mischievous grin, his tone unprecedentedly gentle: "Yes, please reserve the chapel for me as soon as possible. The guest list isn't finalized yet, but it should be kept within sixty people to ensure security. As for the arrangements at the Vatican, I'll trouble you to handle that."
Leah and the others exchanged glances. Was this a wedding preparation? Richard Shaw and Ignatius Leclair locked eyes briefly, both seeing the fire in each other's eyes, eager to strike him.
Griffith hung up the phone and lazily raised his eyes to the uninvited four, saying, "Here to give the wedding gift?"
