Kenneth chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed his mischievous spirit. "Good. Let them bask in their illusions a bit longer. The conference hosts played their part perfectly—those invites were irresistible bait. 'Come honor your legendary father,' indeed. They'll be on stage tonight, spilling their self-centered drivel, right before I drop the bomb."
Kenneth's lips twitched in a rare smile. "And the others? Mirabel, Charles, Bianca, and Sarai?"
George's eyes hardened, the twinkle replaced by a steely glint. "Ah, yes. The men have them in the special dressing room. Roughed up as they were—thanks to their own treachery—they'll look the part tonight. Just exactly as you ordered."
