Emilia let out a calm smile. This is one of their expensive and best selling cars. But only the one of one in Chicago could afford it. People who come requesting it were the top businessmen in the country. And looking at Mrs Brooke’s husband, it was a done deal! Mostly, the staff in charge of selling such cars gets a 20 percent cut, and it seems today is going to be her lucky day. “Now, about the Audi car you asked,” the sales consultant gushed, “the car you inquired about is one of our most prestigious listings. Currently valued at 1.8 million pounds. To secure it, a down payment of half a million is required. But to buy it immediately, we'll take you upstairs for the paperwork and transaction.” She explained calmly. Eve's eyes glittered as she tugged her husband’s sleeve. “Darling, imagine the envy! Owning this car would put us among the city’s elite. Everyone would talk about us. We’d be more recognized.” It wasn't just luxurious, it commands respect from people. She's the o

For some reason, Eve avoided eye contact with him. The onlookers might not be wrong… he doesn't seem like an ordinary man. Can an ordinary man afford such an expensive car? “Now… about your promise.” Dexter whispered with a cold and commanding tone, his voice sending chills down Eve's spine. Her lips parted, her pride clawing desperately for survival. “I-I was only joking..” “You weren’t.” Dexter’s voice carried the weight of authority. The staff who had mocked him earlier now lowered their heads, ashamed of making eye contact with him. Eve dropped her gaze, her shoulders trembling. Her ego came crumbling before her and she couldn’t endure the stares of the staff who were waiting, eagerly to hear what she had to say. “Honey, don't.” Eve heard her husband. “Stay out of this, we can't afford to be on such a man's bad side.” She whispered to him. Slowly, she sank to her knees. The sound of her heels against the marble floor echoed like a confession. “D… Daddy,” she choked

He's only going to the dude who customised his Bugatti La Voiture Noire.”Just then, several Bugatti La Voiture Noire sales staff rushed out, glaring at their Audi rivals.“You shameless animals! Trying to steal our customer?” one shouted. “Can’t you see he doesn’t want to talk to you? If you block him again, we’ll call reporters and expose your tricks!” He barked, his voice cold and devoid of warmth, causing the Audi salesmen to retreat, muttering curses under their breath as they shrank back in defeat.In a few minutes, the Bugatti La Voiture Noire showroom manager himself hurried forward, bowing slightly. “Greetings, Mr. Dexter! Welcome back. Would you like to buy another car today?”Dexter nodded casually. “Do you have a Bugatti baby II?”The manager’s smile widened. “Yes, sir! A Bugatti La Voiture Noire yesterday, and now a Bugatti baby II today, you truly are a valued customer. Please, follow me.” He gently led the way.Personally escorting Dexter inside, beaming like he’d won t

Right now, Dexter noticed he was under the watchful gaze of everyone.He stood still, his expression calm and unshaken. “Neither.”Mr. Paul’s face darkened. “Excuse me?”Dexter’s voice was steady. “I don’t have money. And more importantly…” His gaze flicked deliberately to the broken vase. “…I didn’t break it. So you can’t force me to pay.”The room stirred with whispers. Some laughed openly. “What a loser. He can't assist is mother-in-law?” “No money? Then why come to Vintage Oasis?” Another person muttered.“Look at him, the useless son-in-law who can't brag about a single penny.”Paul sneered, stepping closer. “Don’t you dare provoke me. Your family broke it. And that lady left the responsibility on you. Do you think you can just walk away after all this mess?”Dexter’s eyes glinted, cold and sharp. “Then go after the one who broke it. Or would you rather I call the police and ask them to review your little cctv footage?”Paul froze. “Police?”Dexter’s smirk was faint. He pointed

Beatrice froze. For a few seconds, her eyes remained on Dexter as though she was still trying to process the words she heard.She got a hold of herself and clutched her chest, taking the deepest breath ever, then she shot him a death stare, “Are you out of your damn mind? You expect me—ME—to call you ‘Young Master?’ Have you lost your senses?!”Dexter’s eyes hardened. “Then enjoy your year in jail. Ashanti and I will be sure to bring you fresh oranges when you’re released.” He turned again, making a show of signaling to the officer he was done with her.“No! No, wait!” she blurted, her voice filled with fear and desperation. The thought of jail, of being paraded through the press in handcuffs, was unbearable. Worse, she could imagine the whispers at every cocktail party, the smug grins of her frenemies. She’d rather die than go through that torture of chasing mosquitos on her body.Her pride battled desperation until desperation won. “...Young Master Dexter,” she muttered through cle