Chapter 783

Nightfall descended on the city's largest nightclub, Ryo. Known for its lavish private rooms, state-of-the-art facilities, and impeccable service, Ryo was also the most expensive club in town. But money was no object for Damian tonight. He'd booked a large private room and invited his so-called confidantes.

The table overflowed with various alcoholic beverages, as if he intended for no one to leave sober.

"I've brought you all together tonight to celebrate and relax," Damian announced, raising his glass. "We have a bright future ahead, and I hope we'll continue working together until the very end. Our products will go viral and sell out!"

He offered a toast. "Everyone has worked hard. To all of you!"

"Thank you, Mr. Tanner!" the group responded in unison, raising their glasses.

Then someone said, "Hey, why are we still calling him 'Mr. Tanner'? Soon, it'll be President Tanner! Hahaha!"

Laughter erupted. Damian, though inwardly pleased, maintained a composed expression.

"It's still too early to say," he demurred. "Nothing's confirmed yet."

"Why not? It's a sure thing, from where I'm sitting," another person countered. A third chimed in, "Mr. Tanner achieved phenomenal results after taking over just one project. No one else in the company could pull that off. Besides, you're Mr. Joseph Tanner's son. You'll inherit the company!"

Damian beamed, a silent smile playing on his lips as he held his glass, basking in the flattery.

However, a dissenting voice, barely audible, whispered, "Doesn't Mr. Derrick Tanner have a son, too?"

"Hey!" someone hissed, silencing the questioner. "What do you know? Mr. Derrick hasn't been in good health or at the company for a long time. If Mr. Joseph hadn't stepped in, the company would be in ruins. And Mr. Benedict? He's not a businessman. How can he compare to Mr. Damian?"

"Exactly!" another voice boomed. "You owe us a shot for that comment! We'll all be relying on young Mr. Tanner to support us in the future!"

Damian, thoroughly satisfied with the uproar, patted his chest. "As long as you all work hard for the company, I guarantee you'll all benefit."

The room buzzed with renewed energy. At that moment, Damian's assistant returned from a phone call, leaning in to whisper, "Mr. Tanner, Ms. Schiffer isn't coming."

Damian's face fell. "What? Not even for me?"

Naomi Schiffer was the model he'd personally invited for the perfume campaign. Considered an elite model in the city, she'd graced international runways. Her participation was a testament to Damian's connections. He'd sent a personal invitation to the party, partly for celebration, partly to showcase her. He hadn't expected her absence, let alone a last-minute cancellation. It felt like a blatant disrespect.

His assistant quickly explained, "She's sick, sir. That's why she can't make it."

"That's an excuse!" Damian retorted. "Did I underpay her? Find out how much she wants to appear. And remind her that while the shoot is over, she's still obligated to participate in the publicity campaign. Otherwise, I'll sue for breach of contract."