Chapter 120

Sylvia's POV John's expression darkened as Selene's words hung in the air. "Ms. Frost," he said sharply, his British accent suddenly razor-edged, "care to explain what exactly is going on here?" His voice rose a notch, enough to turn more heads. "I flew across the Atlantic at your invitation," he continued, tone clipped. "I came here under the impression this was a serious business proposal, not some circus sideshow. Accusations in the middle of a gala? This is your idea of professionalism?" The crowd shifted like a school of fish sensing blood. Whispers buzzed. Eyes darted. Nobody wanted to be caught staring, but they were all watching. I met his gaze head-on, spine straight, expression calm—too calm, probably. "My apologies, Mr. Sinclair. You're right to be upset. And I assure you, I will address this—now." I turned toward Selene with an icy stare that made my position unmistakably clear. "My dear Selene," I said, voice as cool as the champagne in her glass, "if you're going to air d