The air seemed to freeze.
Fiona's breath caught.
Fallyn's words died on her tongue.
Every head turned at once toward the source of the voice—
"Sir," the staff stuttered, voice cracking under pressure. "These young miss—"
Before he could finish, Manson's voice cut through cold and effortless.
"They're with me."
Instantly, the atmosphere shifted.
"Y-Yes, sir… sorry, sir!" the staff stammered, bowing so quickly his head hung awkwardly in mid-air, scrambling to correct himself.
Just then—
Fallyn strode past without even acknowledging him.
Only a sharp glare thrown over her shoulder.
"Insolent."
Fiona followed quietly behind, her silence heavier than any words, as if she didn't even consider the scene worth reacting to.
"Hi, Mr. Manson," Fallyn greeted, her voice softened into something carefully sweet.
But he didn't respond.
His attention had already shifted past her.
Cold.
Controlled.
His gaze landed on Brian standing just behind him.
"Brian. Show them to the room."
