The next morning, the Vane mansion was buzzing like a beehive. Florists were carrying in thousands of white roses, waiters were polishing silver trays in the kitchen, and Julian’s security teams were walking around with earpieces, testing the security cameras. Elena was sitting at the small table in the family sunroom, sipping a warm cup of chamomile tea to calm her nervous stomach. Her four-year-old son, Leo, was on the rug nearby, playing quietly with his colorful toy blocks. Suddenly, the head butler, Mr. Thomas, walked into the room. He carried a polished silver tray in his hands. "Excuse me, Miss Elena," Mr. Thomas said politely, bowing his head. "This just arrived at the front gate via a priority delivery courier. It is addressed directly to you." Elena frowned, setting her teacup down on the table. "To me? I wasn't expecting any packages today." "The courier stated it was extremely urgent, ma'am," Thomas said, stepping forward and offering the tray. On the silver tray s
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