24:women should not be nosy?

Alana crossed her legs with grace, the clink of fine porcelain accompanying her as she lifted the delicate teacup Vivienne had just offered. She took a slow sip, her crimson nails gleaming against the china rim. The warm liquid trickled down her throat, but the tension in the air still clung like a shadow.

Trying to lighten the atmosphere, she glanced toward Nolan's direction and spoke, her voice honeyed but laced with strategy.

"Uncle , about the next generation stepping up, Silas is doing a good job at that, isn't he?"

The attempt at casual flattery—meant to ease Nolan's mood—landed with a dull thud. Nolan froze mid-sip. His fingers tightened around the teacup handle, his jaw tensed, and after a brief pause, he set the cup down on the glass table with a soft clink that felt louder than it was.