"Marriage is the parents' decision, not the children's! What do they know?" Matthew's tone was firm. He glared at Arnold. "I know Arnold better than anyone. He may not want this marriage now, but he'll thank me for it someday."

Arnold was speechless. "That's an exaggeration, Grandpa," he rebuked. "I'll never agree, and I certainly won't regret it."

"What does that matter? I've decided, and nothing will change it!" Matthew scoffed.

Dexter felt a headache coming on. Meanwhile, Kayla grew increasingly anxious, desperately hoping Arnold would firmly reject Matthew. But Arnold would never anger Matthew; any resulting conflict could escalate into a major problem. "Mom..." Kayla pleaded, tugging at Myra's sleeve.

Myra pinched Dexter's waist, signaling him to intervene. Dexter straightened. "My apologies, Mr. Lawson Senior," he said, "but I cannot disregard my daughters' wishes and agree to this marriage." He stood, gesturing for Myra and Kayla to follow, then bowed slightly. "I apologize for the inconvenience. We'll be leaving."

Arnold breathed a sigh of relief. But as the Fullers turned to go, Matthew casually remarked, "Dexter, I heard something went wrong with that project you oversaw a couple of years ago. How serious is it?" Dexter stiffened, freezing.

Two and a half years earlier, he had overseen a major bridge construction project, a nationally significant undertaking that had brought him considerable prestige. But days ago, he'd received alarming news: the contractors had concealed serious safety risks, discovered only after two years. If verified, the bridge would be deemed a dangerous structure, its demolition would ruin Dexter's reputation, and he faced potential imprisonment. To avoid disaster, he needed proof the dangers had been deliberately concealed and that he'd been framed.

Dexter abruptly turned, his voice trembling. "Mr. Lawson Senior... what are you implying?"

Matthew smiled, confident. "You guessed right. I have what you need. I can give it to you, but on one condition: Felicia must marry Arnold."

The black Rolls-Royce sped towards the Lawson residence. As they approached, Felicia said, "You can stop here. I'll walk the rest of the way."

The chauffeur glanced at Stephan in the rearview mirror. Seeing no objection, he pulled over. "Thank you," Felicia said, opening the door to alight.

Then, Stephan's languid voice cut through the air. "Are you in such a hurry to meet your fiancé?"