Before Lyndon could complete his sentence, Wilton spoke to Barnes.

At this point, Barnes couldn't help but smile as he attentively considered Wilton's proposition.

Lyndon's scowl deepened.

"Hold on! Dad, Mr. Larson, what's this discussion about? When did I become involved with Miss Larson to this extent? Why has marriage come into the conversation all of a sudden?"

Ivy, standing beside her mother, murmured timidly, “Lyndon, just a moment ago, you and I..."

She hid her face, leaving her words unfinished, but the implication was clear to any adult.

Lyndon's expression turned stormy at the sight of her in his suit jacket, her chest bare.

He had rushed here after hearing Kyson's words, ascending to the third floor. Entering the lounge, he found Ivy inside.

She spoke some heartfelt words, embraced him, and kissed him.

He recoiled in disgust, pushing her away, and then his breathing hitched.

For a fleeting second, he thought he saw Rosanna.

Overwhelmed by longing, he embraced and kissed her in his delusion.

Could he have mistaken Ivy for Rosanna in his drunk state?

Impossible!

He hadn't consumed enough alcohol to be so befuddled as to confuse Ivy for Rosanna.

Then, what was it?

His expression turned icy as he regarded Ivy with suspicion.

“Ivy Larson, what have you done?"

Upon entering the room earlier, he had detected an odd scent.

Surely, it was Ivy's doing!