Every head in the ballroom bowed instinctively as the central aisle cleared. Old Master Su—the patriarch who had reigned over the Su dynasty for five decades—walked toward the stage. He was the living history of the Hidden Families, a man whose silence carried more weight than the shouting of a thousand younger CEOs.
His eyes, though slightly clouded by the passage of eighty years, still held the cold, piercing sharpness of a hawk circling its prey.
He walked straight toward the head table, his gaze fixed forward. Madam Su rushed to meet him, her heels clicking frantically against the marble. Her hands were visibly trembling as she reached out to support his arm, her face a mask of forced, daughterly concern.
