The atmosphere lightened momentarily as waiters entered in perfect formation, each balancing a dish with practiced grace. The clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of the staff filled the room, but the reprieve was short-lived.
"I believe this meeting was held for something important?" A cold, firm voice sliced through the air, extinguishing the brief levity.
Mr. Jordan's sharp gaze swept the room, his tone carrying the weight of impatience. He was a man who valued his time, and it was evident he wasn't here for trivial matters. His presence alone felt like a privilege he rarely extended unless it promised mutual benefit.
Harley tensed at the directness of his question, but she quickly composed herself.
"It's about my family, sir," she began, her voice steady but respectful.
"And what about it?" Jordan asked, his tone devoid of warmth, yet commanding attention.
