Rain hammered against Arthur Williams’s face with enough force to leave a stinging ache across his skin.He knelt on the pavement outside the glowing glass entrance of the Imperial Crown Restaurant while icy water soaked through his cheap black uniform and clung heavily to his body. His palms scraped painfully against rough concrete each time he tried to steady himself.One sleeve had torn during the struggle, exposing a shallow cut near his wrist where rainwater mixed with streaks of blood. Around him, strangers laughed without restraint.Several people held up their phones, eagerly recording the spectacle unfolding before them, while others watched with the detached fascination reserved for disasters that happened to someone else.Behind the restaurant’s golden glass doors, wealthy customers observed everything from the comfort of velvet chairs, sipping wine bottles worth more than Arthur’s monthly rent.“Look at him.”“He really tried stealing?”“That’s honestly pathetic.”Arthur’s

Arthur Williams stared at the numbers on his phone for nearly ten minutes without blinking.Three hundred and twelve dollars.The amount itself was not life-changing. It would not buy freedom, erase debt, or cure his mother’s illness. Even so, the sight of that balance felt unreal to him.For the first time in years, Arthur had touched money that did not come from exhausting labor, humiliation, or begging managers for extra shifts.His fingers tightened slowly around the phone.“This can’t be real,” he whispered.Morning sunlight filtered weakly through the cracked apartment blinds while traffic roared outside the building. The tiny room still smelled faintly of damp walls and instant noodles. The peeling paint, broken fan, and stack of unpaid bills remained exactly where they had always been.Nothing around him had changed.Yet somehow, everything felt different.Arthur opened the trading app again.The numbers remained the same.Helios Tech had exploded upward exactly as predicted.

“You cannot enter this meeting.” Arthur barely looked at the assistant blocking the boardroom doors.The woman stood stiffly outside the executive conference hall on the forty-second floor of Imperial Crown Hospitality Tower. Her nervous expression kept shifting between Arthur and the security guards behind him.“Sir,” she continued carefully, “this session is restricted to executive personnel and primary shareholders only.”Arthur handed her a black access card calmly. The moment she read the name attached to it, her face lost color. The silence that followed felt almost physical.Arthur noticed that reaction more and more lately. People changed once they realized money stood behind his name. The assistant stepped aside immediately.“Apologies… Mr. Williams.”Mr. Williams.Three days ago, security guards dragged him through rainwater like trash. Now, executives were apologizing for delaying him.Arthur pushed open the doors. The boardroom fell silent instantly.Floor-to-ceiling windo

“You’re not supposed to exist.”The words settled between them like a blade sliding quietly from its sheath.Arthur studied the woman carefully while distant music drifted across the private skyscraper lounge. The city lights behind her framed her silhouette in silver and gold, making her look almost unreal against the glass skyline.She held herself with dangerous calm, not arrogance. Precision, the kind possessed by people raised inside power instead of chasing it.Leonard Vale spoke first.“Sophia,” he said smoothly, “try not to interrogate our guest within the first minute.”The woman never looked away from Arthur.“I prefer understanding risks immediately.”Arthur almost smiled. “So I’m a risk now?”Her expression remained unreadable.“That depends on what you are.”Arthur extended his hand slowly. “Arthur Williams.”She accepted it.Her fingers felt cold.“Sophia Laurent.”The surname meant nothing to Arthur initially, but several nearby investors subtly reacted the moment she s