Marcus's POV
The Sanders family's gathering buzzed with Skyview City's elite mingling throughout the spacious ballroom. Weaving through clusters of tuxedos and evening gowns, I made my way toward Joseph, nodding at acquaintances but avoiding any substantial conversation.
Joseph's eyes lit up with mischief the moment he saw me approaching.
"Well, if it isn't the lovestruck genius himself," he said, voice pitched low enough for only me to hear.
"You old dog," he said, leaning closer.
"I never pegged you for the lovesick type. Flying back and forth across the Atlantic like some teenager with his first crush."
I didn't dignify his teasing with a response, instead scanning the room with practiced indifference. "I need your advice on something."
Joseph's eyebrows shot up in exaggerated surprise. "The great Marcus Murphy needs *my* advice?
Alert the media!"
"How do I get the Shaw family's approval?" I asked, ignoring his theatrics.
"Shaw family's approval for what?"
