CHAPTER 477: SINCLAIR, YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY AMAZING

"Alright, alright," the hook-nosed man shrugged, noticing Harrison’s displeasure.

Harrison fell silent, but the seed of curiosity had already been planted among the others.

"Judging by that reaction, it must be true," the blond man arched an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping the room before settling back on the hook-nosed man.

"So what really happened?

Some guy from San Francisco actually managed to steal the spotlight from Harrison?"

There was no mockery in his tone.

After all, in all of E Country, few could overshadow Harrison—let alone a foreign businessman from San Francisco.

"Harrison doesn’t want me to talk," the hook-nosed man chuckled, lighting a cigarette before draping an arm around the hostess beside him.

"If you’re that curious, ask him yourself."

All eyes turned to Harrison, whose mood had visibly soured.

Taking a slow drag from his cigarette under their expectant stares, Harrison scoffed.

"That eager to know, huh?"

"Damn right we are," the blond man grinned. "In all these years, we’ve never seen anyone outshine you."

"Spill it, buddy.

Let’s go teach that blind bastard a lesson."

"Damn right."

They knew exactly what kind of person Harrison was—someone who wouldn’t let anyone step on his turf without payback.

The words were deliberately tailored to stroke Harrison’s ego.

At that, something flickered briefly in Harrison’s eyes.

Harrison took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke before finally speaking in a measured tone, recounting the auction incident in sparse detail—though he conveniently omitted Sinclair’s identity.

"That American guy’s got some nerve, huh?

Even Harrison showed up in person, and he still got turned down?"

"No kidding.

Even the big shots from the other two families wouldn’t dare disrespect Harrison like that."

"..." With Taylor involved, making a direct move himself wasn’t the wisest play.

But these guys?

Different story.

Leaning back on the couch, Harrison took another drag, watching them through half-lidded eyes, something dark and calculating lurking beneath his gaze.

The man in black-framed glasses, who had spoken earlier, seemed to have an idea.

The man turned to the hostess beside him.

"You," His gaze swept over the other women.

"You too.

We don’t need you here anymore.

All of you, out."

The women didn’t move immediately.

Instead, they looked toward Harrison for confirmation.

After all, this private club was his establishment—they wouldn’t dare act without his say-so.

Harrison gave a dismissive wave of his hand. Only then did the hostesses rise from their seats and file out one by one.

Now, the VIP room was left with nothing but men.

"Here’s how I see it," said the man in black-framed glasses, taking a sip of his drink before fixing Harrison with a meaningful look.

"If that American guy can’t take a hint, then there’s no need for us to hold back."

The corner of Harrison’s mouth lifted in a barely perceptible smirk.

"Got any bright ideas?"

"The American man is only here now to attend the charity gala—networking, expanding his business, the usual," the bespectacled man replied, his tone laced with sycophantic eagerness.

"We could always arrange a little... mishap. Make sure he leaves empty-handed."

As long as Harrison was pleased, the business deal between their families would be sealed.

"Not a bad idea," Harrison swirled his wine glass absentmindedly, his dark eyes unreadable as he continued, "But I’m currently preparing for my engagement to Juliet.

Best not to complicate things."

The bespectacled man chuckled.

"Don’t worry about lifting a finger—I’ll handle this little matter for you, buddy."

—— Inside the restaurant.

"Oh!

Right, right!"

Melissa suddenly snapped to attention, hastily reaching out to support Camilla as she guided her toward the dining table, her movements almost comically anxious.

"Camilla, please sit down!"

In her eyes, Camilla at that moment seemed extraordinarily fragile—so much so that Melissa found herself holding her breath without realizing it.

"It’s fine, really," Camilla smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she gently pulled Melissa down to sit beside her.

"There’s no need to be so nervous."

Melissa nodded repeatedly before turning to Sinclair with a heartfelt smile.

"Sinclair, you’re absolutely amazing!"

If Taylor or Calvin had said this teasingly in private, it might have been normal.

But coming from the straightforward Melissa, the expressions of the three men at the table shifted subtly.

Vicente twirled his wine glass, narrowing his eyes at his little girlfriend.

"Your audacity keeps growing," he remarked coolly.

Taylor, meanwhile, watched Melissa with an amused yet pointed gaze.

"Even Sinclair isn’t safe from your teasing now?"

"Teasing?

I’m being serious!"

Melissa frowned, not catching the underlying tone, her face earnest.

"Sinclair married someone as beautiful and kind-hearted as Camilla, and now they’re expecting their first child.

Talk about having it all—love and career success!"

She then squinted at her brother, her expression dripping with disdain.

"Meanwhile, some people are the same age as Sinclair but still flying solo.

Not even a hint of romance in sight. Practically turning into an old bachelor.

It’s downright pa—OWW!!"

Her words were abruptly cut off by a yelp of pain.

"Such disrespect," Taylor smoothly handed the menu he’d just used to rap Melissa on the head to Camilla, his expression unruffled.

"Bro," Melissa rubbed the sore spot, shooting her brother a pointed glare.

"That’s just you lashing out because you’re embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?

Hardly," Taylor’s lips curled in a faint, mocking smile as his gaze settled on her.

"But angry?

Absolutely."

There was something unreadable in his eyes.

"Your audacity has grown beyond measure—sneaking off with another man right under my nose without a word."

The "other man," Vicente: "..." Oh no.

In the excitement over Camilla’s pregnancy, she’d completely forgotten about *that* little issue.

Melissa’s face froze mid-expression.

She immediately straightened up, sitting primly, before turning to Vicente with an innocent blink.

*Now* she remembers him?

"You little traitor."

Vicente caught his girlfriend’s meaningful glance and turned his gaze toward his friend.

"Taylor, it’s all my fault," he said, pouring a glass of wine for Taylor with a faint smirk.

"Direct all your anger at me.

If that’s not enough, feel free to hit or scold me—whatever it takes."

Now that’s what you call a real friend in a pinch!

"Yeah, yeah, exactly, bro!" Melissa eagerly nodded along with Vicente’s words.

"If you want to hit someone or yell at someone, just take it out on Vincent.

Vincente won’t fight back at all."

As she spoke, she shot Vicente a questioning look.

"Right?"

"...Right," Vicente replied, casting a sidelong glance at his girlfriend, his eyes brimming with unconcealed adoration.

Taylor’s expression was complicated.

Seeing the sister he had raised with his own hands now leaning on another man filled him with the bittersweet ache of a father watching his daughter grow up.

Yet Vicente’s indulgence and doting on Melissa brought him a sense of contentment.

Camilla watched the scene unfold, her eyes crinkling with quiet amusement.

Who would have thought that a hardened man like Vicente, who’d walked through fire and blood, would humor Melissa’s whims like this?

Truly, there’s always someone who can tame the untamable.

Meanwhile, Sinclair paid no attention to the others, his sharp yet refined profile softening slightly as he carefully selected dishes suited for Camilla’s tastes.