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Chapter 120 - Chapter 120 A Calculated Assault

Irvin's POV

I tugged at my tailored black suit collar as I stepped from the car, approaching the grand building where the elite had assembled for Foster's dinner.

The event met every expectation I'd harbored—pompous, ostentatious, and carefully crafted to dazzle.

Still, I entered with my chin raised, spine straight, already wearing my practiced mask of charisma.

I met my father at the entrance, the older man offering barely a nod of acknowledgment.

"You're late," he grumbled, fiddling with his cufflinks.

"Fashionably," I responded with a slight grin, dismissing his criticism.

The room hummed with chatter and the gentle percussion of crystal glasses. Delicate classical melodies drifted through the air.

I trailed behind my father as we navigated from cluster to cluster—exchanging handshakes, delivering hollow flattery, chuckling at humor that fell flat.

This realm had shaped me from birth.

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