Vivia was practically fuming. “If it wasn’t for Mrs. Smith coaching you from the shadows, your family would be just like ours by now.”
Clark jumped in too. “LYLX worked with you for years and brought you so many benefits. Turns out Miss L is actually Lydia. If you hadn’t kicked her out of the Smith family, or if you’d actually bothered to learn from her, Smith Corporation could have been on a whole different level.”
Both sides kept trading insults, each one landing harder than the last.
Milana had come here planning to put the Lane family in their place, but she ended up getting angrier instead. She didn’t bother to hide her annoyance. “Enough. Since you’re all here, let’s lay it out. Your family was the first to break off the engagement. So let’s make it official. The engagement is off. From now on, our families have nothing to do with each other.”
Just a moment ago, Vivia had been hoping Soren could win Sandy back. Now Milana was calling the whole thing off.
Soren blurted out, “Auntie, I really love Sandy. We can’t just end things like this.”
Milana didn’t even hesitate. “It’s over. With the way you are now, you’re not good enough for our Sandy.”
She turned on her heel, head held high, acting like she’d already won.
All that talk about how powerful the Lane family was, and for what? The second Davis Group put a little pressure on them, they folded. So much for being impressive.
By seven, the banquet was filling up fast. Jenson and Milana were soaking up all the attention. The host took the stage and announced the start of the party.
“Now, let’s all enjoy a special documentary about Luke Smith.”
Luke wasn’t even there, but Milana had spent hours editing together a montage of his life, from baby photos to his latest milestones. She thought it would be really meaningful.
Everyone, including Jenson and Milana, turned to watch the big screen, eyes full of anticipation.
The screen flickered to life, and a proud smile tugged at Milana’s lips.
Then, in the very next moment…
“Are you looking for trouble!”
On screen, Jenson was glaring, his hand twisted in Mrs. Smith’s hair, waving a knife in her face.

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