Chapter 876

The room fell into stunned silence.

Reginald Blackwood's brows furrowed deeply. "The President of Pacific Crest International is here?"

He had only expected Julian Whitmore, the Vice President, to attend the meeting in Montecito.

The President of Pacific Crest International was an enigma—rarely seen, rarely heard. All company affairs, big or small, were handled by a select group of elite agents.

These agents operated under the president's direct command.

Those who failed to meet expectations were swiftly replaced.

Julian Whitmore was the exception. He had held the position of Vice President longer than anyone else.

His name alone carried weight in the industry.

Julian represented Pacific Crest International in every way. Yet, the identity of the true mastermind behind the company remained a mystery.

So when Julian suddenly announced the president's presence, the air in the room thickened with tension.

No one had anticipated this.

The whispers began.

"Mr. Whitmore, is the president truly here?"

"Does this mean Pacific Crest International is expanding into Montecito's market?"

"I heard their president is a ghost—some employees go years without ever seeing him. He only communicates directly with the vice president..."

Julian remained composed, a faint smile playing on his lips. He nodded slightly in response to Reginald Blackwood's question.

"Yes, our president is here. When he learned of your willingness to transfer your shares to Pacific Crest International, he was... pleased. From this moment forward, our companies are family."

Reginald's expression darkened. His voice was sharp, cutting through the murmurs.

"Then where is he? Bring him out."

Julian stepped aside, gesturing toward Nathan Blackwood.

"He's right here, isn't he, President Blackwood?"

Silence.

Absolute, suffocating silence.

Not even the sound of breathing could be heard.

On the stage, Reginald's face twisted in disbelief.

The crowd below erupted in hushed disbelief.

"Pacific Crest International belongs to Mr. Blackwood?"

"Mr. Whitmore, you must be mistaken. How could Mr. Blackwood be the president?"

"This makes no sense. If the shares were going to him anyway, why the charade?"

Evelyn Sinclair stood motionless, her initial shock giving way to quiet understanding.

Nathan Blackwood—the president of Pacific Crest International.

No one had seen this coming.

Yet, now that the truth was out, it made perfect sense.

Nathan's influence had never been limited to Blackwood Industries. His reach extended far beyond what anyone had imagined.

But one thing was certain—Reginald had been completely blindsided.

What he thought was a trap for Nathan had been Nathan's game all along.

The whispers grew louder, more frantic.

Reginald's patience snapped.

"Enough!"

The room fell silent again.

Reginald turned to Julian, his aged eyes burning with something dangerous.

"Explain yourself, Mr. Whitmore. What does Pacific Crest International have to do with Nathan?"