Chapter 483 Birthday Banquet
Aaron, at 70, was still going strong.
As usual, his birthday party was set to start at 11 AM.
With an hour to go, guests began arriving at the entrance of the banquet hall, where a row of gift tables had been set up. Visitors lined up with their gifts, registering one by one.
Several staff members from the Heavenly International Resort stood in a corner, their faces full of disdain.
"Can you believe this? Collecting gifts so openly!"
Rumor had it that Aaron himself had arranged the gift tables and assigned trusted aides to oversee them.
Little did they know, there was more to these tables than met the eye.
First, the gift-givers were categorized into two groups: friends from the political sphere and ordinary friends and family.
Second, a special room behind the tables was designated for unwrapping and assessing the value of the gifts on the spot.
Aaron had set a rule: any gift valued over $300 would be returned. If a high-value gift came from someone in politics, it would be sent back with a warning letter. If the amount was outrageous, an investigation would follow.
For ordinary friends and family, requests that didn't violate principles were noted and, if possible, granted. Attempts to curry favor or engage in shady dealings were ignored.
Aaron held a significant position, controlling the nation's finances, and many sought to flatter him on his birthday. But his approach balanced maintaining the atmosphere without compromising his principles.
Many gifts were returned, leaving some guests feeling chastened. Aaron's integrity was evident.
As a result, the gifts he accepted were mostly homemade cookies, flowers, children's drawings, and the like. The only notable gift was from Ronan, who had invited a renowned painter, Sidney Lawson, known for his oil paintings. Sidney was set up on one side of the venue, painting swiftly and with great enthusiasm.
However, Aaron, the guest of honor, sat in the main seat of the hall, looking grim. It was clear to everyone that he was far from happy.
Ronan stood nearby, feeling helpless. "Aaron, don't worry. I'll handle Melissa's situation. I'll make sure Finnegan buys out that shop tomorrow."
Aaron sighed deeply. His troubles extended beyond his beloved daughter getting involved with the wrong crowd. What was Leonard thinking today? Acting like a big shot after a few days as a spokesperson? Was it because I cut his Wavehaven Special Ops budget earlier this year? His team had shown no progress in three years; who could he blame?
Suddenly, Aaron asked Ronan, "Leonard didn't come, did he?"
"No, but he sent you a gift—a cup."
Aaron sighed again. "What about Jeffery?"
"Can't reach him."
"And Ronnie? Forget it, he definitely won't come."
Aaron glanced at his daughter Melissa in the corner and sighed again, rubbing his forehead.
An hour later, the birthday party kicked off, but Aaron was still in a gloomy mood. Friends from various circles came forward with their toasts, and Aaron responded briefly to each.
Then it was the family's turn.
"Happy Birthday, Dad. Your wisdom and grace have always been a guiding light for our family. Wishing you many more years of health and happiness!"
"To our beloved Uncle, may your special day be filled with joy and surrounded by the love of those who cherish you most. Cheers to your enduring legacy!"
"Happy Birthday, Grandpa! Your strength and kindness inspire us every day. May this year bring you peace, prosperity, and countless blessings!"
A little girl, about three or four years old, stepped forward and kissed Aaron's wrinkled forehead.
"Good, good, my sweet granddaughter!" Aaron smiled warmly but then caught sight of Melissa again, and his smile faded. She was getting worse by the day and didn't even have a boyfriend.
Melissa stood in a corner, feeling isolated. She hesitated for a moment and then took a step forward.
"Melissa, where are you going?" Finnegan approached, raising an eyebrow. "Uncle Aaron said you can't toast until you get rid of those shops."
Finnegan was accompanied by several other Clark family members, all of whom had made their mark in various fields. But not all the Clark family descendants were as upright as their elders; these were the so-called 'spoiled brats.'
They often bullied the weak, relying on their family's power.
"Melissa, we grew up together. You used to be so outstanding, so brilliant, excelling in everything. The elders adored you!" said a seductive woman, suddenly raising her voice and casting a sideways glance. "Now, why have you fallen so low, running a budget hotel? And working there? And involved with the wrong crowd? If I were you, I'd be too ashamed to toast!"
"Don't talk to Melissa like that!" Tobias's son-in-law stepped forward. "Melissa is already disliked by Uncle Aaron. If you keep this up, she'll go back to her hotel and cry!"
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Finnegan stepped forward, taking two glasses of champagne from a waiter's tray. "Melissa, you don't need to worry. Just agree, and I'll ensure the transaction is completed in two days. Uncle Aaron won't stay mad at you, and everything will be back to normal."
He handed a glass to Melissa. "What do you say?"
Melissa ignored Finnegan, glancing at Aaron from afar. Aaron frowned and turned away.
Melissa felt a pang of sadness. She used to be the first to toast at Aaron's birthday.
She sighed softly, her eyes downcast, and began to retreat, ready to leave the venue.
Suddenly, a strong hand supported her waist from behind.
Melissa turned slowly to see a young man in white, his expression calm. He took the champagne from Finnegan and drank it in one gulp.
He scanned the room and said softly, "Melissa, hold your head high. Everyone's watching."
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