Godly Investor: A Hundred Trillion Dollars For Investment And Donations-Chapter 300 -

The announcement hit the room like a lightning strike.

Immediately Conversations came to a jarring halt, and the collective gasp of the guests echoed through the hall. Faces turned pale, and eyes widened in disbelief as the words sank in again.

The Godly Investor? Here?

The whispers began almost immediately, cascading like a tidal wave.

"Is it really true?" someone murmured.

"I thought the Godly Investor was just a myth," another whispered, their tone tinged with awe.

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"Why would he come here, to a family gathering?" a skeptical voice asked, but their words were drowned out by the growing hum of speculation.

At that moment the room's atmosphere shifted dramatically, tension and excitement mingling in equal measure.

All eyes turned toward the entrance, their gazes locked on the direction of the bold declaration. The anticipation was palpable, every guest craning their necks for a better view.

Then the heavy sound of footsteps filled the air as another set of men in black suits entered the room , their movements precise and coordinated. The security detail exuded an air of authority, their expressions unreadable and their presence commanding.

They spread out strategically, forming an imposing line near the entrance.

And then, she appeared.

Noami Bryson stepped into the room, her stride confident, her expression unreadable yet commanding respect. She wore a sleek black dress that flowed effortlessly with her movements, her sharp heels clicking against the floor.

Her presence was magnetic, and the room seemed to hold its collective breath as she paused just inside the entrance, her gaze sweeping over the crowd with calm authority.

Again the whispers intensified as recognition dawned on the guests.

"It's Naomi Bryson!" someone said, their voice barely a whisper but filled with disbelief.

"She's his right hand, isn't she? The face of the Godly Investor's empire?" another chimed in.

"What's she doing here? Does this mean…?" The question lingered in the air, unspoken but understood.

However Ethan remained seated, his expression unreadable as he watched Noami enter. Serenity glanced at him, her brow furrowed with confusion.

"Do you think she's really here on behalf of the

The room was a sea of silent anticipation as all the men in black stood at attention, their hands rising in perfect synchronization to salute as Naomi Bryson strode confidently toward the stage. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, a rhythmic sound that seemed to echo the heartbeat of everyone watching. She held something in her hands, carefully concealed under a plain brown cloth, and the air buzzed with curiosity.

"What is she carrying?" a woman whispered, her eyes narrowing in speculation.

"Why is she here? And what could it possibly mean?" another voice murmured, the tone laced with both awe and apprehension.

At that moment Naomi reached the stage, her presence commanding all eyes. Grandma York, sitting at the center of the family's table, instinctively leaned forward, her face a mix of wonder and unease. But as Naomi placed the covered item on the table and prepared to speak, Grandma York's knees wavered slightly. She gasped, clutching at the armrest of her chair.

Then Old Master York, ever vigilant, reached out and steadied her, his firm hand keeping her upright. "Stay strong," he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. "Let's see what this is about."

At that moment Naomi's gaze swept across the room, pausing briefly on Ethan, her lips curving into a barely perceptible smile. She then turned back to the crowd and, with deliberate care, removed the cloth.

Immediately Gasps rippled through the room as the item was revealed—a stunning mirror with an ornate golden frame. The intricate craftsmanship was unlike anything most had ever seen, its delicate carvings catching the light and shimmering like fire. The polished surface of the mirror seemed almost otherworldly, reflecting the awe-stricken faces of the guests.

At that moment A hushed whisper broke the silence. "Is that… gold?" someone asked, their voice barely audible.

"That's not just gold," another replied. "That's a custom piece. It must be worth… ten million, even more more."

However Naomi let the murmurs settle before she spoke, her voice calm yet filled with weight. "This," she began, "is a gift from the Godly Investor himself. It is for Grandma York."

At that moment Grandma York's hand trembled slightly, her eyes wide as she took in the mirror. Naomi continued, her gaze never wavering. "The Godly Investor asked me to deliver this mirror to you, Madam York, as a symbol of reflection—not of age, but of achievement."

She paused, letting her words resonate.

"He wants you to look into this mirror every day, not to see how many years have passed, but to see how far you've come. To remind yourself of the empire you've built, the family you've raised, and the legacy you continue to shape. This mirror is not just a reflection of you—it is a reflection of everything you've accomplished."

The room was utterly still, every guest hanging on her words. Hearing Naomi words Grandma York's eyes glistened, and her lips trembled as though she wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. Old Master York gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, his own expression unreadable but clearly moved.

Ethan, seated with Serenity, remained composed, though his thoughts churned. She always did look at herself as old and tired, he mused. This gift… it's exactly what she needed.

The weight of Naomi's words settled over the crowd, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, no one had anything to say. All eyes were on Grandma York, waiting for her reaction.

Naomi's words seemed to pierce straight into Grandma York's heart, and the weight of their meaning overwhelmed her. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she could no longer hold them back. The once-composed matriarch of the York family broke into quiet sobs, her shoulders trembling with emotion.

Without hesitation, she rose from her seat and embraced Naomi tightly, her frail frame conveying gratitude that words couldn't fully capture. "Thank you," Grandma York whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "This means more to me than you can imagine."

However Naomi returned the hug gracefully, her demeanor warm yet professional.