Nathan's smile froze as he sensed the looming tension. Nevertheless, he took the little girl's hand and guided her toward the jet's stairs.
"Come on, Signorina. Let's try these cute macarons that Uncle Clyde gave you." His warm tone provided a comforting contrast to the unspoken concerns hanging in the air.
Once the two left, Ryder heaved a deep sigh, and the wind on the runway seemed to echo his unease.
He turned to Clyde, his sharp gaze slicing through the breeze toward Vincent's vigilant figure, stationed near the stairs of the other jet.
"Have you decided on your chairman candidate?" Ryder's voice held a hint of concern, and his eyes searched for answers within the windswept landscape. "Can't be Vincent."
Clyde's response came with a light scoff, and he smiled mysteriously. "Of course not. I know you are worried, but rest assured. I've got my candidate."
Ryder squinted, his gaze fixed on Clyde. "Who?"