The lounge was silent.
The atmosphere was so oppressive it was suffocating.
Sara Lang, anxious and heated, pulled Malcom Owens out of the lounge.
"It's driving me crazy, why isn't Mr. Russo here yet? At such a critical moment!"
Malcom Owens closed the door, his expression equally serious.
"There's still two hours, let's wait a bit longer."
"Wait for what? Who does that?! Does he not know what day it is today? Doesn't he plan his travels? This is a wedding banquet, a wedding banquet! What could be more important than this?!"
By the end of her words, Sara Lang was so angry she felt like crying, her trembling voice carried into the room.
Arabella Vanderbilt's eyes flickered.
What could be more important than a wedding banquet?
"Nothing is more important than you."
She could still vividly remember the day she was discharged, when he stood under the drizzly rain waiting for her with an umbrella.
And the serious, earnest expression he had when he said those words.
