Zion maintained a respectful demeanor and immediately greeted, “Mr. Noah.”

Noah, however, didn’t make things difficult for him. He gave a light cough, which could be considered acknowledgment. Then, turning to his youngest daughter, he said, “Go upstairs first. Your mother’s been waiting for you all night; she probably has something to say to you.”

Gwen hesitated and didn’t move at first. Zion gently nudged her, his voice soft, “You should go.”

Only then did Gwen start to move. But before heading upstairs, she walked over to Noah. As the youngest daughter and the most adept at charming her way out of trouble, she hugged her father. Only then, with visible reluctance, did she head upstairs.

Her father’s anger dissipated by more than half after the hug. Watching her go, Noah turned his attention to Zion, his tone calm but firm: “Have a seat. Let’s talk.”

Zion immediately sat down and, with practiced ease, poured Noah a cup of tea.

Noah feigned irritation and remarked, “