And again, today wasn't going to end well. Maybe it would be worse. Rowan felt it immediately he stepped into the corridor of Golden thread Institute, bag slung on his shoulder, his cloth plain, threads that were too tired to hold fabrics together spiked out from his worn collar. People like him like they say do not belong to a place like this where rich people lavish money to Oppression, his intelligence got him scholarship and everyday had been hell. For Two years, he'd been at the starter class despite his outstanding performances. The institute refused to promote him but he didn't relent, studying everyday, innovating new patterns and designs burning on coffee just to stay awake while stitching with needle and thread because he couldn't afford machine and his family never supported his dream. Hearing the voice of the mentor Kai booming in the hall, his heart raced with panic. "Damn! I'm late." He hurried to the class. Getting to the door, he paused, catching his breath from

"Burn it!!" Nooo!!! The scream tore from his throat. He lunged for the suit, Security shoved him hard. He stumbled back, falling heavily against the marble with a sharp crack. The security squeezed the cloth and moved. Rowan's heart slammed against the ribcage. It was as though it was his heart getting wrenched in the hand of the security. Every instinct overrides pain. Rowan lunged for the suit, dragging it with the security. "No. No please don't burn it. Please..it's my design.. please don't do this sir." "Take him out." Mr. Grant said, irritated already like he's causing a nuisance in the hall already. The second security gripped his wrist, dragging him out of the hall against his resistance. "P— please, sir. Please don't burn the design.." Rowan cried. The entire thing turned into a spectacular. Patrons laughed at his hurt, some raising their phones to record the whole for I*******m view, some staff members giggled, some shaking their heads. "Wait.. I'll do whatever yo

"But why me. Why me?" Rowan asked, voice trembling in confusion.Madame Joyce smiled. Sharp. Her beauty still looks effortless, disputing her actual age. Thirty five and clocking thirty six soon."Because i believe you're worthy, Rowan." She said, confident with her words. "now you have to practically show me that I wasn't wrong about you." She nodded at him. Go ahead and sign the document.Rowan's mind raced. He glanced at the document again. $500 billion. Half of Joyce Lang's wealth. At the bottom, the space to put his signature stared back. A chance to give the world that humiliated him back their bitter dose.He grabbed the Aurora diamante pen. The ink bled on the A4 sheet at the first kiss. Rowan's heart raced... this is it. This is what he'd wanted. A chance to show his flair to the world. Smoothly, he scrawled his signature on the paper. Madame Joyce took the sheet to access it, nodding her head in satisfaction.She reached a mini purse fixed to the inner double document hold

Rowan let out a bitter laugh. Not the kind that comes from pain, but that type that carried the low cackle that someone is making a big mistake."You..called me a dreamer now," Rowan started, "who was it when you complained you needed to upgrade your wardrobe. Who tutored you math when your professor was threatening you with expulsion or open your damn legs to get A. Who supported your mum, stayed with her twenty-four hours when she was in that sick bed?!"For a second. A splitting second maybe. Guilt was palpable in her expression..or maybe it was pity. The kind of pity that says;"O, boy! The boy had really suffered!" "I never begged you to do all of these things Rowan. It was your wish," Anabelle snapped, adjusting the bedsheet on her body. "You're the good guy. So you don't get to rub it on my face now like you've moved the world for me. Any other person could have done any of those things for me."Rowan smiled, disappointment heavy in his eyes.The commotion caught the attention

Two securities with no damn sign of drowsiness in their eyes flanked both sides of the entrance like statues."Good evening, Sir," one of them stepped forward one step. "Access card, Sir."Rowan looks confused. "Access card?" He repeated with a creased brow. "I have no idea i needed something like that before I can pass.""Then you're a new customer, Sir." he said, giving out a welcome smile. "You're welcome to Velvet Crest, Sir." "Thank you." Ethan nodded with a smile."Please you'll give me just a few seconds to get you the access card, Sir." He said politely. Rowan nodded gently, stepping to the side. "Alright."The security reached out and tapped a button on a smart machine on a wall. The rectangular screen displayed some letters; 'printing access card' and humming through the process.Immediately the screen blinked green light, a smart slipped out from the machine. The whole process didn't take up to five seconds."Here, Sir." The security gave a gentle bow."Thanks." Rowan co