The Rose Garden was on the verge of witnessing a father-daughter showdown of the century.

Eldon sat cross-legged on the couch, watching as Stella fumed with anger, her face flushed red, while Olivier’s expression was as dark as the bottom of a pot. Eldon found the whole thing endlessly amusing.

After listening for a while, he finally grasped the situation and beckoned Stella over. "Kiddo, you’ve got your eye on that Melford boy? Not bad, not bad. Good taste."

"Right? You think so too! You’ve got a sharp eye, Grandpa!"

Finally finding someone who understood her, Stella grabbed Eldon’s hand, brimming with excitement. Just moments ago, she had been storming...