Michael stood frozen.William strolled over, his brow furrowed in mild confusion as he looked between them. "Babe? You know this guy?"Michelle let out a short, incredulous laugh, covering her mouth with her manicured hand. "Know him? Babe, we went to NYU together!"She turned back to Michael, her eyes sweeping over his baggy, faded thermal shirt, his frayed denim, and the faint dried mud on his worn sneakers. A cruel, vicious smirk slowly spread across her face, her lip curling in disgust."So..." she purred, her voice dripping with sharp, malicious glee. "They finally let you out of lockup, huh? What was it—six months?"Her voice wasn't loud, but in the dead quiet of the luxury showroom, every single word carried like a bell. Nearby, two sales associates exchanged wide-eyed, shocked glances.Prison?Michael remained completely silent, resting his arm calmly against the velvet upholstery.Michelle crossed her arms tightly, looking down her nose at him as if he were a bug on her shoe.

Emily blinked through her tears, startled.Vermen rested both hands over the silver head of his cane. "Pride is an expensive vice, child. You just received a thirty-two-million-dollar lesson in humility. I expect you to remember it."He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping into a hard, uncompromising line."Consider this your absolute warning. If I ever hear another report of an associate under my roof turning up their nose at a customer—regardless of what they wear—you will not just be terminated. I will ensure you never work retail in the state of New York again."Emily nodded frantically, bowing again and again. "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I understand!""Dismissed," Vermen murmured.Emily scrambled back toward the fitting rooms, wiping her eyes as the other associates let out a collective, silent exhale.Chester Vermen turned his body back around, his full, undivided attention returning to Michael Roy.There was no anger left in the old billionaire's eyes—only a deep, intense, and

Then, Chester let out a dry, forced laugh, shaking his head. "Young man... you have a flair for the dramatic. Is this part of the sales pitch for the thirty-two million?"Michael didn't smile. He didn't blink. He just stood there, his posture rigid, his face completely unreadable.Chester’s laughter slowly withered, dying in his throat. The sheer, terrifying certainty in Michael’s eyes hit the old billionaire like a bucket of ice water."My personal physician... Dr. Halloway... is the head of cardiology at Mount Sinai," Chester stammered, his voice dropping into a raspy, defensive register. "He runs full blood panels on me every six weeks! He told me my cardiac fatigue is standard arterial calcification! Age-related!"Michael shook his head slowly, a look of somber pity in his eyes. "Standard blood panels look for cholesterol, glucose, and common enzymes, Mr. Vermen. They don't test for synthetic botanical alkaloids unless someone explicitly orders a mass-spectrometry screen."Michael

Michael stepped out of his bedroom into the hallway. The scent of worn-out carpet and old wood hung in the air, but the small apartment felt lighter than it had in months.In the living room, Sarah was sitting on the edge of the worn sofa, carefully folding an old pile of laundry. Her movements were slow, her shoulders slightly hunched from years of hard work."Mom," Michael said softly.Sarah paused, a folded towel in her hands, and looked up. "Yes, sweetie?"Michael gave her a warm smile, putting his hands into his pockets. "Put that away. Get ready."Sarah blinked in confusion, setting the towel on her lap. "Get ready? For what?""We're leaving for dinner at seven," he said."So early?" Sarah glanced over at the kitchen clock, then back at him. "Michael, there’s still leftover stew in the fridge. We don’t need to spend money—""I've already made up my mind," Michael interrupted gently, walking over and taking the towel from her hands. "Tonight, we are not eating at home. No cooking

The restaurant manager walked down the remaining steps.His polished shoes touched the marble floor one step at a time as he approached the group.At first, his attention went to Nicol and his wife.Then his eyes shifted toward Michael and Sarah.The moment he saw the situation, his expression became serious.He stopped a few feet away.“What is going on here?”His voice carried enough authority that the nearby conversations immediately became quieter.The waiter who had been arguing with Michael quickly stepped forward.“Sir, these two people are causing trouble.”He pointed toward Michael.“They're claiming this table belongs to them, but Mr. Jilliam has shown us a valid reservation.”Nicol immediately nodded.“Exactly.”He adjusted his expensive jacket before continuing.“I don't know where these people came from, but they refused to leave even after we explained that this table was reserved.”His wife stood beside him with a satisfied smile.She glanced at Michael and Sarah as if