In the late weekend night of late July, a private charity banquet personally organized by a chaebol family to announce the marriage of two multinational conglomerates was grandly held in the spacious French-style manor mansion in the suburbs.
The banquet hall was brilliantly lit, with countless huge chandeliers handcrafted from Austrian crystal illuminating the marble floor to a mirror-like reflection.
The air was filled with the scent of top-tier champagne, expensive black truffles, and the distant perfumes worn by high-society gentlemen and ladies.
The symphony orchestra played elegant waltzes on the stage, intertwining elegance and power into an impenetrable web that firmly welded everyone to their class thrones.
Meanwhile, in the semi-open VIP lounge on the second floor of the banquet hall, separated from below by one-way high-transmittance glass, a Shura field filled with illusions of betrayal and storms of jealousy was about to unfold.
"Jack, is this the little dog you've been keeping at school recently?"
The speaker was Anthony, the only other chaebol heir in the business school who could stand on equal footing with Jack's family.
He was dressed in a deep blue haute couture tuxedo, sitting on the leather sofa at the moment. His large hand with distinct knuckles, wearing pure white silk gloves, was humiliatingly and teasingly pinching Jiahua's delicate face, which had turned pale from extreme fear.