Korbyn sighed.

The dinner continued well into the Late hours of the night.

Juliette had already instructed the servants to prepare the guest room for Lyndon. However, Lyndon insisted on staying in a hotel. With no other choice, she and Korbyn arranged for a driver to accompany their old friend back to the hotel.

As the dinner concluded, the grand dining room now appeared empty.

The only thing heard were the sounds of the servants tidying up, the linking of glasses and plates echoing faintly in the air.

Waylen was about to retire to his room when his father halted him.

“Waylen, I need to talk to you about something.”

Waylen turned his deep gaze towards his father, awaiting his words.

Korbyn gestured for them to proceed to the study, closing the door behind them.

Once inside, Waylen prepared a cup of tea for the older man.

“Dad, what do you want to talk to me about in the middle of the night?"

Korbyn did not drink the tea and instead put it aside.

With a serious expression, he began.

“Waylen, I noticed that you were not in a good mood during dinner."

Waylen took out a cigarette, brought it to his lips and lit it.

With a smirk, he replied, “Really? I must have been too tired recently."

Korbyn frowned. He knew his son very well.

He knew that Waylen was lying.

“I don't care about your past with Elvira, but you can't let it affect my friendship with Lyndon."

Waylen then took a long drag from his cigarette and extinguished it in the ashtray.

Rising from his seat, he smiled wistfully and said, "Then, I'll take my leave now."

Korbyn frowned unhappily.