Just then, the organizers arrived at the hall.
The murmurs died down almost instantly as the tension in the room shifted. The once-engaged spectators quickly returned to their seats, their expressions composed as if nothing had happened.
It was as if the entire confrontation had been erased from existence—except for the lingering weight of what had just transpired.
Among those moving discreetly, Mr. Shaw hesitated for a moment before making his way toward Sofia. His usual confidence had dimmed, replaced by a carefully measured humility.
When he finally reached her, he took a slow breath before speaking.
"Miss Sofia, I'd like to personally apologize for what happened earlier." His voice was smooth, controlled—but beneath it, there was fear.
He didn't want trouble.
He didn't want Sofia holding a grudge, didn't want to risk her coming after him when this event was over.
After all, Jude was his junior.
