Chapter 534

Margaret met Nathaniel's gaze with unwavering confidence.

"Mr. Falcon, we never intended to make an enemy of you. But mark my words—you won't lay a finger on Isabella or any of us today. We're walking out of here unharmed."

Her voice was steel, leaving no room for doubt.

Rosalind scoffed. "Mrs. Whitmore, your arrogance knows no bounds. With both Mr. Falcon and Harrison present, do you honestly believe your family can escape unscathed?"

Gabrielle chimed in, her tone dripping with disdain. "Exactly! You once treated Mr. Falcon as your greatest ally. Now that he's turned against you, how dare you still act so bold?"

Margaret's lips curled into a cold smile. "Test me, if you dare."

Harrison studied the Whitmore family closely, her sharp eyes flickering with unease. She knew them too well—Margaret's confidence suggested she had an ace up her sleeve.

Nathaniel, observing the exchange, lifted his hand. "Take them down."

His bodyguards surged forward, moving to apprehend Margaret.

Panic flashed across her face as she turned to Theodore. "Theodore, where is he? He should be here by now!"

An important guest?

Harrison's eyes narrowed. Had the Whitmores called in someone powerful from Metropolia?

Theodore checked his watch. "Any moment now."

Victoria smirked at Harrison. "You thought you had everything under control, didn't you? But I bet you never saw this coming."

Harrison frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Before Victoria could answer, the roar of engines cut through the misty rain. A fleet of sleek, black limousines rolled to a stop, their polished exteriors gleaming under the dim streetlights.

The rain had softened to a drizzle, and as the doors opened, a line of black-suited bodyguards emerged, forming a disciplined path.

A butler stepped forward, holding an umbrella aloft. "Mr. Lancaster, we've arrived."

The car door swung open, and a tall, imposing figure stepped out.

The man was in his prime, dressed in a tailored black overcoat that accentuated his commanding presence. His chiseled features were sharp, his gaze piercing—an aura of power radiating from him like an emperor surveying his domain.

Nathaniel's voice was barely above a whisper. "Henry?"

Oliver moved to Harrison's side, his voice laced with shock. "It's Henry Lancaster—the wealthiest man in the world! No wonder they shut down the airport and blocked the roads. What in the world is he doing in Willowbrook?"

Harrison's clear eyes locked onto Henry. She had heard the legends surrounding this enigmatic figure, but seeing him in person was something else entirely.

Henry had vanished from the public eye years ago, becoming a ghost no media could capture.

Why was he here?

The butler held the umbrella steady as Henry strode forward, his steps measured and confident. His gaze swept over the gathered crowd, assessing them with an air of detached authority.

Margaret beamed, stepping forward eagerly. "Mr. Lancaster! You've arrived at last! Welcome to Willowbrook—we're honored by your presence."

Theodore inclined his head. "I'm the one who reached out to you."

Henry's piercing eyes shifted to him. "Where is my daughter?"

The question landed like a thunderclap, sending shockwaves through the tense silence.