Naturally, the other Turnbulls were less than friendly toward Frank.

Other than Vicky, they all had looks of a constipated person whenever they glanced Frank's way.

He was a real piece of work, but they could neither snap at him nor chase him away.

Hurt him? They were still counting on him to cure George!

All they could do was to defame him in private, even blaming him for George's condition when he contracted it six months ago.

Frank did not care at all—it was the last day of treatment for George and the day of the Turnbulls' annual dinner.

Starting from the morning, luxurious cars were driving into the Turnbull estate, with men and women striding in as they attended the prestigious banquet.

They were all family or regional executives, all of them embodying the might of the Turnbulls as one of the Four Families of Morhen.

see that not the entire family

were hurrying around busily, lining the tables with exquisite dishes and countless glasses of expensive

corner, watching as hundreds of Turnbull family members

were all the backbone to the family empire—and it was

over to Frank when she happened to finish a conversation

face, unmoved. "What,

"Hmph."

our family's annual dinner, and outsiders

Turnbull too, so can't you go

chatting with Glen in the distance. "So, Titus Lionheart is a

turned and saw Titus in his tailored suit and refined mannerisms, and she quickly turned back to shoot Frank a look of disdain. "He'll

quietly. "All I know is

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