Whispers spread across the lobby, each comment carrying surprise, all eyes piercing on the young man who had just walked in, his dressing completely out of place among the expensive suits and flamboyant gowns, and yet he spoke with the guts of someone who owned the whole land.Who's the boss really?"I expect you to be on your knee now, crawling at my feet like a good kid maybe I'll have that mercy you spoke about on you. Because once my brother, the manager of the whole hotel is here, your life is done!"She spoke with the entitlement of a spoilt baby sister."You'll spend some good time in prison.." Her lips curled in mock amusement, "...and maybe you'll have your first child there too, because you just take on his baby sister to mess with."Rowan didn't speak. He kept glancing at his old wrist watch like a bomber expecting the detonation of a hidden bomb."Five minutes." He mumbled. The receptionist poked finger at his chest, jeering as Rowan's silence made her look like a fool. "

Rowan didn't need to ask for the second time. Mr. Henderson already understood the task and the kind of place he requested for.His respect for Rowan was still there, knowing he is someone associated with Joyce Lang. He respectfully gestured in the direction of the Elevator."I'll be taking you to the last floor, Mr. Rowan. The penthouse. That is the best place that suits people of your status. You'll have entitlement to all our exclusive services there and you'll have a personal service staff to attend to your need. I'll personally be the one to attend to your need, Mr. Rowan if you don't find it offensive. It'll be my honor."Rowan simply nodded, understanding the manager intention to further appease him and get on his good side."As you wish." Rowan simply said. The elevator ascended to the last floor of the hotel. It stopped on the tenth floor. The door chimed and parted, revealing a medium hallway. They pressed forward to the end of the hall where the penthouse came into view.I

His voice was loud enough to make heads turn. Laughter. Low at first then it rose.Rowan turned to look at the man. He stared at him with a furrowed brow that suggested unfamiliarity."Do I know you from somewhere, Sir?" "I'm just a man giving you advice for safety or your own pocket, kid," he said, his smile Sharp, all displaying warmth that's meant to scorch. He pulled out his phone and waved it. Same model. Just a different casing colour. "I got this here. $2500 about a few months ago. The price inflated with just an additional $500. ""And—" Rowan chipped in with a firm voice that suggested he wasn't interested in any of the lectures that he didn't ask for and the man was delivering."And?" The man let out a sharp disbelieving laughter, eating up Rowan's space with an intimidating presence and cologne that reeks of arrogance and insult."Do you think you can afford it? $3k?" He laughed sharply. No humour. Just Mockery and reeks of cheap beer. "I could have called you a kid with

Then dinner ended with a full course meal, detailed and served by seasoned chefs specially led by Mr. Harrison, the hotel manager.The main dish, a herb crushed venison medallion and wagyu flatiron steak with rosemary-infused fingerlings potatoes, a single meal course cost more than most people's two year rents, served with desserts that looked too beautiful to eat, rich flourless chocolate cake specially made with port wine reduction and served with aged wine, Ruffino Alauda.Rowan retired to his bed, adapting to his new life. He wore a silk night dress taken from the wardrobe provided by the hotel— a navy comfortable top and a slack.He sat on the bed, unveiled the new devices he got from Brown Gadget. He pulled out the Samsung phone from the box. The smell of synthetic fiber filled the air surrounding him. He whistled, taking in the impressive glossy finish with a gentle approving nod.He removed the sim card from his old phone and inserted it. The phone came to life with a buzz

Meanwhile, Fifty miles away across the sleeping city, at a place called the Royal building, all glass and steel and old money that comes from building an empire from scratch and through pain.At the top floor inside of a room that looked like it was ripped out from a sick dream, occupied with domestic infrastructures that cost fortunes. The door of the bedroom squealed silently as it opened and a young woman stepped out, white towel wrapped around his waist, long hair cascading behind her back dripping water on the marble that followed her steps into the bedroom.She was beautiful in the way art is beautiful— untouchable and Stunning. Despite the weariness in her eyes, her posture was sharp, the kind of uprightness needed for boardroom battles.Joyce Lang.Her phone buzzed on the bed. She grabbed it."Knox." She called, phone pressed to her ear. "Good morning, Mrs. Lang." He greeted with respect. "Mr. Rowan is making moves already. Compilation of businesses transferred to his name."