The Patriarch Of The Smith Clan.

The doors groaned as they swung open, the heavy wood and metal hinges releasing a deep, resonant creak that echoed through the grand hall. The murmurs of the gathered clan members dwindled into hushed anticipation, all eyes drawn to the widening gap like moths to a flame.

First entered the newly elevated eight great families—leaders who had once been subordinates but now stood at the pinnacle of power.

At the forefront strode Pius Tennyson, his designer suit tailored to perfection, complementing the glow of his golden eyes. He radiated an effortless confidence, a near-carefree air, as if oblivious to the ravenous stares of the vampires among them, who looked as if they had laid eyes upon a five-star feast.

Next came Harry Noir, tall and composed, his black hair catching the light as his silver eyes reflected it unnaturally. The once-subordinate Noir family had risen, and their leader carried himself with the gravity of that change.