Zachary, Nellie, and Rebecca turned to see an elderly man standing beside a vintage car. He leaned on a walking cane, his dark suit adorned with intricate embroidery, a striking gemstone thumb ring glinting on his hand. His thin face was deeply wrinkled, his hair almost entirely white save for a few remaining black strands. Gray-white eyebrows framed eyes that held an undeniable authority, compelling silence from those who met his gaze.
Their hearts skipped a beat. Why is he here? they wondered simultaneously. The man was Jaiden Lewis, head of the four major families.
A young, tactless reporter fumbled for more photos, earning a sharp rebuke from a senior colleague. The younger reporter, aggrieved, remained silent.
Zachary stepped forward first, shaking Jaiden’s hand. “Mr. Lewis, what brings you here today? The Art Festival is truly honored by your presence!”
Nellie followed, bowing slightly. “Hello, Mr. Lewis.”
Rebecca, slightly behind, offered a broad smile. “Mr. Jaiden Lewis, I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time. Mr. Lionel Lewis mentioned you were resting at the old manor, so I didn’t want to disturb you. I never expected to see you here! How is your health?”
Zachary scoffed inwardly at Rebecca’s eagerness. She’s too young and impatient. Everyone knows about Jaiden’s health. He’s been in and out of the hospital countless times. Asking that now is just asking for trouble. How could I not see how clueless she is? I’ve overestimated her!
Jaiden, cane in hand, fiddled with his thumb ring, his eyes deep and knowing. He looked at Rebecca. “This old body won’t last much longer. I thought I’d enjoy my good days with my unruly grandson.” He coughed, and someone quickly offered a handkerchief.
Zachary spoke with concern. “Mr. Lewis, it’s windy. Let’s go inside.” Jaiden’s eyes showed approval. Rebecca felt frustrated. Zachary got ahead of me again. She didn’t realize it wasn't just about being ahead; everything she said seemed to displease Jaiden. Lionel had planned an engagement for Ryan and Rebecca, but Jaiden’s opposition had ended it before it began.
Inside, the young reporter, Mason, was frustrated. “Why didn’t you let me take more pictures?” he asked George, the senior reporter. From a distance, Mason had only seen an ordinary old man.
George pulled him aside, lit a cigarette. “Are you out of your mind? That’s Jaiden Lewis, the former head of the Lewis family in Seacrity. He was a big shot long before you were born!”
Mason, puffed up from recent successes, muttered, “So what? I’m just taking pictures.”
George exhaled smoke. “You’re young and don’t know Jaiden’s Seacrity reputation. All four major families have shady pasts. Back then, you’d likely have been tossed into the sea to feed the fish.”
George recalled his own youth, his ambition to make a name for himself. An informant had tipped him off about Jaiden, and his desire for a big story had driven him forward, despite the risks. He'd uncovered a major story—not about Jaiden, but a rival company’s polluting factory. He'd dedicated a page to it, gaining recognition. But then he found something amiss, investigated further, and discovered it was a trap set by Jaiden.
Just as he was about to publish, he received a package: photos of his wife and son, $330,000, and a “thank you” note signed by Jaiden. He’d exposed himself, a terrible conflict tearing at him. He suppressed his conscience, destroying the evidence. He later heard the company chairman had gone bankrupt, lost his family, and committed suicide.
The incident haunted George. He’d been used, a pawn in Jaiden’s game. Looking at Mason, he saw his younger self. Apart from Arthur Chambers, deceased, the other three former family heads were ruthless; their tactics unimaginable to ordinary people.
The auditorium was nearly full, only the two front rows of VIP seats remaining empty—reserved for dignitaries.
The Art Festival began with the opening ceremony, followed immediately by the piano competition. Argrol University valued efficiency; the four competitions proceeded without unnecessary delays, each with a prominent judge. Contestants performed, judges scored, and the highest score determined the winner. Objections were possible, but unheard of in recent years given the judges' impeccable credentials.
The judges' list was posted: Zion Holmes (piano), Alexander Reed (chess), Simon Sunderland (calligraphy), and Vincent Marsh (oil painting). This lineup was the most prestigious in years.
Ruby, in a white dress, stood confidently at the entrance. She wasn't there to greet ordinary students, but important figures like the Lewises, Simon, and Zion.
Jaiden, followed by Zachary, Nellie, and Rebecca, arrived first. The Smiths sent only Nellie.
Ruby composed herself. “Hello, I’m Ruby Scott, organizer and student council president. Please follow me.”
The group nodded politely. Ruby led the way, introducing herself; they offered polite compliments. She secretly reveled in their praise, unaware they were merely being courteous. They’d seen everything; such a hall and stage design barely registered.