Third Person's POV
At those words, the gathered media swarmed forward.
Cameras were hoisted high, flashes popping relentlessly at the still-closed car doors.
Just then, the door swung open.
"Alpha Mortimer—"
But when they got a clear look at who was stepping out, the crowd's high-pitched excitement died down for a few seconds.
It wasn't Mortimer and his wife; it was the Davis family.
Calming down, the reporters finally noticed that the Bentley's license plate didn't belong to Mortimer's usual ride.
Vivian stepped out of the car, practically swimming in a heavy, elaborate evening gown.
"Hello, everyone." Vivian waved at the reporters with a brilliant, practiced smile.
They recognized her quickly—wasn't this the Davis family's precious daughter? The one who, not too long ago, tacit
