Micheal’s chest wouldn’t loosen the whole way to the Bell Crest Hotel. Kept telling himself there had to be another reason, but that picture of Mia kissing David stuck in his head like glue. He loved her. Really loved her. She said yes to being his girlfriend so he thought she felt the same. Never expected her to be perfect. Never cared that her family had money. Just wanted her to take him as he was. Now he couldn’t figure out how the same girl he’d spent six months chasing could stand up in front of everyone and say yes to another guy while she was still with him.He just needed to hear it from her.Almost half an hour to get there. The hotel looked ridiculous. Like it belonged on a different planet. Even from outside it screamed money. Standing there in his regular clothes with the old backpack, he felt stupid. Never even imagined people just casually hung out in a place like this. After the prices people were talking about in the livestream, it hit him even harder how different th

Micheal walked without any particular destination in mind, allowing his feet to carry him wherever they wanted while his mind remained occupied by everything that had happened that night. He had been walking for more than an hour by the time the exhaustion from the fight, the emotional pain of losing Mia, and the hours he had spent at the police station finally caught up with him. His body felt heavy, his cheeks were still slightly swollen from the slaps Mia had given him, and his mind was so tired that he no longer cared where he was going. When he finally looked around, he realized that he had wandered into a quiet public park that was almost completely empty at this hour. He checked the time on his phone and saw that it was already past midnight before walking over to one of the benches and sitting down. He leaned back and closed his eyes, hoping that the silence would help him forget everything that had happened.Unfortunately, closing his eyes only made the memories come back mor

Micheal walked in and stopped.Private study. Big mahogany desk in the middle, papers and folders all over it like someone had been going through them a minute ago. Behind it sat an old man, seventies maybe, dark sweater over a white shirt. Nothing special. Guy you’d help cross the street without thinking twice. Micheal just stared. After everything Benthely said, after the whole drive out to this place, he’d pictured someone else. Powerful. Scary. People hovering around him. Not this. The old man was staring right back. He pushed his glasses up and looked Micheal over, slow, like he was checking every detail. Then he glanced at Benthely, who’d come in and closed the door. “Is this really Micheal Jordan?” Voice shook a little. “Yes, Master. He is Young Master Jordan.” The old man’s eyes went wide. Sat there frozen for a second. Then shoved the chair back and came around the desk way too fast for someone that age. “My God. Is that really young Micheal?” Before Michea