Godly Investor: A Hundred Trillion Dollars For Investment And Donations Chapter 294 - 294

At that mont Ethan's brows furrowed slightly as he processed what just happened.

He couldn't believe they called him because he stood up?

'That's absurd.'

Still, he maintained his composure as he walked up to the spokesman, his voice calm but firm. "I already placed my gift in the gifting section," Ethan explained.

"I didn't know we were supposed to present them directly."

The spokesman nodded, seemingly understanding, and turned to address the room. "Ethan has inford that his gift is already in the designated section," he announced, his tone neutral.

At that mont Ethan was about to step away and retrieve the box when Serenity's uncle abruptly stood up, his voice sharp and laced with suspicion.

"Wait a mont," the older man said, his piercing gaze fixed on Ethan.

"How can we be sure he's not going to take soone else's gift? A careless mistake like this could easily turn into sothing… questionable, and we all know they are so many gifts their."

The words hung in the air like a bomb, their impact imdiate and unsettling. A murmur rippled through the crowd, whispers of agreent and doubt spreading like wildfire.

At that mont Ethan froze, his jaw tightening as he processed the accusation. Is this really happening? he thought, his mind racing.

He had expected so level of scrutiny being an outsider in this gathering, but to be indirectly called a thief in front of everyone was beyond insulting.

At that mont the family mbers exchanged uneasy glances, their collective skepticism growing.

"He's got a point," one person muttered.

"How do we know for sure?"

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, Serenity shot up from her seat, her expression fiery.

"Uncle, that's enough!" she said, her voice cutting through the murmurs. She stepped forward, her gaze unwavering as she defended Ethan.

"He's not a thief, and he never would be. I saw him at the gift section myself before I called him over."

Her words carried weight, silencing the crowd montarily. Ethan glanced at her, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. Serenity's stance was firm, her confidence in him unwavering despite the doubts swirling around them.

Her uncle, however, wasn't entirely convinced.

"Serenity," he said, his tone condescending, "you're vouching for soone you barely know. You can't just—"

"I do know him," Serenity imdiately interrupted, her voice steady but fierce.

"Ethan has no reason to take sothing that isn't his, I'm sure of that."

The room grew tense as Serenity's uncle leaned back in his chair, his voice dripping with insinuation.

"Or perhaps you caught him red-handed while he was trying to swipe soone else's gift," he said, a faint smirk curling at his lips.

Upon hearing what Serenity uncle just said.

Gasps rippled through the room, and Ethan's jaw tightened, his composure strained but unbroken. He shot a glance at Serenity, who looked ready to lash out but held herself back, her fists clenched at her sides.

Her uncle stood abruptly, smoothing his suit as he addressed the room.

"Let's move on, shall we? I'll go first." His tone was self-assured, his steps deliberate as he approached the center stage where the gifts were being presented.

From a velvet-lined box, he revealed an ornate set of old teacups, the kind that carried a history as rich as their craftsmanship.

"This set," he began, his voice loud and clear, "is worth one million dollars. A symbol of refinent and grace, just like my dear mother."

At that mont the room erupted into polite applause, though Ethan noticed the smugness in serenity uncle's expression as he returned to his seat. He's trying to outshine everyone, even here, Ethan thought, suppressing a frown.

One by one, the rest of the family mbers took their turns. Serenity's aunt—her uncle's wife—was next. She presented a set of jewelry worth $700,000, a delicate arrangent of eralds and diamonds.

Her explanation was brief but filled with warmth, speaking to her mother-in-law's enduring beauty.

The applause was a little louder this ti, but the room was abuzz with murmurs.

Still not enough to surpass him, Ethan noted, watching Serenity's uncle sit back with a triumphant grin.

Then ca Serenity's father, who walked to the front with quiet confidence.

In his hands was a sleek, understated watch. He held it up for the crowd to see, his expression thoughtful as he addressed his mother.

"This," he began, "is a gift that isn't ant to remind you of the past but to help you embrace the present and the future. It's not about ti slipping away—it's about recognizing that you're still in possession of ti. Every second is yours to claim."

His words carried a weight that made the room pause.

Then the applause that followed felt more genuine, filled with appreciation for the sentint rather than just the value of the gift.

At that mont Serenity's grandmother smiled warmly, her eyes glistening with emotion as she accepted the watch.

The room was still buzzing with quiet admiration after Serenity's father presented his gift. Unlike the others, it wasn't about extravagance but thoughtfulness. His words lingered in the minds of everyone present, a gentle reminder that gifts could carry aning beyond their monetary value. Ethan couldn't help but respect the man's approach. He didn't try to outshine anyone. He simply gave sothing that mattered, Ethan thought, his eyes briefly flicking toward the gift table where his own offering waited.

Finally, it was Serenity's turn. She stepped forward with a small, elegant box in her hands, her movents confident yet filled with a quiet grace. The room fell silent, all eyes on her as she approached her grandmother.

There was an air of anticipation, as though everyone expected sothing remarkable.

When she opened the box, a collection of combs and hair tools was revealed, each intricately designed and arranged with care. The simplicity of the gift stunned the room.

Imdiately a murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd, the contrast between her gift and the high-value items presented earlier catching everyone off guard.

Serenity, unbothered by the whispers, turned to face her grandmother with a warm smile. "When I was little," she began, her voice steady but filled with emotion, "you always insisted on plaiting my hair. No matter how busy you were or how much I complained, you never let leave the house without it perfectly done."