Nolan didn't crack a smile. Instead, he dropped a bombshell with a simple statement, "Everyone's been saying Mr. Tanner is the epitome of fairness and impartiality. Turns out that's actually true, treating both his daughters without bias, whether they're his by blood or not."
Imogen's face turned sour.
What was this young man getting at?
Just moments ago, she had heard that he was Mr. Harris of the Harris Group, a young CEO whose reputation for excellence preceded him. So why were his words loaded with such insinuation?
Francis, too, caught the subtext in Nolan's remarks.
Confused, he glanced at Regina before looking back at Nolan. As far as he knew, the two had never met before, yet here was Nolan, seemingly taking up the cudgels on behalf of his daughter.
Regina also looked at him, then quickly averted her gaze. Her eyes were a mystery, a tangle of unreadable emotions.
What was Nolan up to? Was he trying to apologize for taking her spot earlier?
But to her, the exposure of family drama was far more embarrassing than any plea made on her behalf.
"Dad, if you'll excuse me, I'll head downstairs," Regina said stiffly, her voice as rigid as her posture.
Nolan found Regina amusing. Even in the face of such indignity, she stood tall, pretending as if nothing had happened. The great Regina Tanner, outmaneuvered by a non-blood relative—Nolan was curious whether she felt even a twinge of resentment.
Hearing her words, Francis immediately glared at her. "That's quite rude, Regina. Mr. Harris hasn't even said he's leaving. How can you excuse yourself first? You're the hostess, and I've reminded you time and again how grand tonight's event is. You must be polite.”
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