?Chapter 1206:


    Before entering, Howe gestured at him casually. “Luca, fetch me a ck coffee. No sugar. No milk.”


    Luca’s jaw tightened. As William’s personal assistant, he had only ever answered to one man.


    Now, taking orders from Howe felt like an insult deliberately thrown in his face.


    Still, he swallowed his pride, brewed the coffee, and carried it into the room with forcedposure.


    The air inside was thick with unease. Around the long oval table sat thepany’s core directors, their faces drawn tight with anticipation. The chair at the head of the table—William’s—remained conspicuously empty.


    Howe took the first seat to the left, settling in with deliberate ease, his confidence radiating through the tension.


    “Gentlemen,” he began, his voice smooth yetmanding, “since everyone’s here, let’s move forward with the vote on the matter we discussed previously.”


    He cleared his throat, and the low murmurs that had filled the room quickly faded into silence.


    The board members exchanged uneasy nces, none daring to be the first to speak. Even with whispers iming William had met a grim fate, the possibility of his return kept them cautious. One wrong move against him, and they’d be finished in Choria.


    Howe’s lips curled into a faint, mocking smile as he surveyed their hesitation.


    “Come now, gentlemen. Just vote ording to your conscience. No need to think too hard.”


    The words had barely left his mouth when the conference room door swung open with a sharp creak.


    Every head turned—but the figure who stepped inside wasn’t who they expected.


    A man in a pristine military uniform stood at the entrance, the silver stars of a major general gleaming on his shoulders. His posture was rigid, his steps measured, carrying a quiet dominance that filled the room.


    Howe and the directors froze, stunned by the sudden sight of Lance Carter.


    “Lance? What are you doing here?”


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    Lance’s eyes met Howe’s. His tone held a teasing calm. “What’s wrong, Mr. Briggs? You don’t look happy to see me.”


    Howe’s expression tightened, suspicion flickering in his eyes. He couldn’t tell what Lance was ying at.


    Unbothered, Lance strode forward, each step deliberate, and took an empty seat at the table. He leaned back, perfectly at…


    …ease, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. Thatposure set off rms in Howe’s mind.


    If Lance hade as a Carter representative, he wouldn’t have shown up in uniform—certainly not as a high-ranking officer.


    Lance held Howe’s gaze, his voice low but clear. “Rx, Mr. Briggs. I didn’te here to bite.”


    The faint mockery in his tone made Howe’s jaw clench, color rising in his face.


    Before anyone could speak, Lance’s demeanor shifted, his voice turning firm and resolute. “I’m here today because there are matters concerning Briggs Group that require my attention.”


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