My calm voice resonated slightly in the spacious office.
Despite the startling revelation, though, there was little surprise evident on my father's face as he sat behind his mahogany desk.
Like a man of unyielding serenity, he maintained his unwavering composure, calmly fixing his gaze on me and offering a simple nod.
'Drake Vaiself'
'Truly a master of poise who had weathered countless storms to reach where he stood today.'
He was a 47-year-old man with a commanding presence, sporting a salt-and-pepper beard that framed his chiseled jaw.
His tailored gray suit, crisp white shirt, and silk tie exuded timeless style.
Gold accents hinted at immense wealth, and behind him, the New York City skyline filled the room through floor-to-ceiling glass walls.
He was indeed a man of commanding presence, and when he noticed I had finished speaking, he eventually opened his mouth.
