Divorced on Monday, Bought the City on Tuesday: The Infinite

The Armor of a King

Chapter 7

Eleanor stared at Arthur, her perfectly manicured fingers tightening around the expensive silk tie. The sheer absurdity of seeing her ex-husband a man who had eaten canned beans for dinner two nights ago standing inside the city’s most exclusive boutique short-circuited her brain.

"Arthur?" Eleanor’s voice was a mix of disbelief and rising anger. "Are you stalking me? How did you even know I was here?"

Arthur didn't immediately answer. He casually slid his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans and looked around the immaculate showroom.

The salesman, sensing Eleanor’s distress, immediately puffed out his chest. "Ms. Sterling, do you know this... person? Is he harassing you?"

"He's my ex-husband," Eleanor sneered, recovering her haughty composure. She looked Arthur up and down with profound disgust. "And no, he shouldn't be here. He probably followed me to beg for more money. Julian told me about the little stunt you pulled last night at the club, Arthur. Hiring actors to pretend you bought the place? Tricking Elias into kicking Julian out? Julian’s father is already preparing the lawsuit. You’re going to prison."

Arthur actually chuckled. The sound was deep, rich, and utterly devoid of the anxiety Eleanor was so used to hearing from him.

"Actors?" Arthur mused. "Is that the fairy tale Julian told you to soothe his bruised ego after I put him in the gutter? Cute."

"Get out, Arthur. Before I call the police and have a restraining order filed," Eleanor hissed, stepping forward. "You don't belong here. Look at yourself. A single button on these suits costs more than your entire bank account."

The salesman, emboldened by Eleanor, reached into his tailored vest and pulled out his phone. "I'm calling mall security. We don't tolerate vagrants harassing our VIP clients."

Arthur didn't blink. He didn't raise his voice. He just looked at the floating blue interface that only he could see.

System, Arthur thought. What is the valuation of this specific boutique?

[Target Asset: Armani Valmont (Franchise Rights & Real Estate)]

[Market Value: $30,000,000]

[Hostile Buyout Price (Instant Transfer): $45,000,000]

[Proceed? Y/N]

Y.

[Transaction Complete. Funds deducted. 4,500 SP generated. You are now the sole owner of this franchise location.]

Arthur smiled. He looked at the salesman, who was holding the phone to his ear, waiting for security to pick up.

"Before you make that call," Arthur said calmly, "you might want to answer the one you're about to receive."

The salesman frowned, opening his mouth to utter a sharp retort, but he was interrupted by the shrill ringing of the boutique's main landline behind the cash wrap.

Annoyed, the salesman lowered his mobile phone and walked over to the desk, picking up the receiver. "Armani Valmont, how may I"

The salesman stopped speaking. The color rapidly drained from his face, leaving him looking like a freshly powdered corpse. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting frantically toward Arthur. "Yes, sir. Yes, regional director. I... I understand. Immediate effect? But sir—yes, sir."

The salesman slowly hung up the phone. His hand was visibly shaking.

Eleanor crossed her arms, tapping her designer heel impatiently. "Well? Is security on their way to throw him out?"

The salesman didn't look at Eleanor. He practically crawled out from behind the counter, keeping his head bowed low as he approached Arthur.

"Mr... Mr. Vance," the salesman stammered, his voice cracking. "I... I was completely unaware. The regional director just informed me of the sudden change in ownership. Please, I have a family. I apologize for my abhorrent behavior."

Eleanor froze. Her tapping foot stopped. "Change in ownership? What are you talking about? Throw him out!"

"I can't, Ms. Sterling," the salesman whimpered, looking like he was about to cry. "Mr. Vance just purchased the building and the franchise rights. He is my boss."

Eleanor’s jaw dropped. The silk tie slipped from her fingers, fluttering silently to the polished hardwood floor. She stared at Arthur, her mind violently rejecting the reality unfolding in front of her.

"You... you bought Armani?" Eleanor gasped, stepping backward. "Arthur, how? How are you doing this? Where is this money coming from?!"

Arthur stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Before the System, Eleanor’s presence used to make his heart race with adoration. Now, looking at her wide, panicked eyes, he felt nothing but a cold, clinical satisfaction.

"I told you last night, Eleanor," Arthur said softly, his voice echoing in the quiet boutique. "I'm the swan now. And you are just the mud."

He turned to the trembling salesman. "You're fired. Clean out your locker and be gone in two minutes."

"Please, Mr. Vance!"

"One minute and fifty seconds," Arthur corrected, his tone turning into cracked ice.

The salesman didn't argue. He turned and sprinted toward the back room.

Arthur looked back at Eleanor, who was staring at him like he was a ghost. He pointed to the door. "As for you. Put the tie down. You can't afford to shop at my store anymore. You're permanently banned from the premises."

"Arthur, you can't do this to me!" Eleanor cried out, her face flushing with humiliation as the two other wealthy patrons in the store began whispering and pointing at her.

"Watch me," Arthur replied. "Goodbye, Eleanor."

Defeated, humiliated, and utterly confused, Eleanor turned and fled the boutique, the bell chiming mockingly as the door swung shut behind her.

Arthur took a deep breath, turning his attention to the racks of ultra-premium clothing. It was time to dress for the war ahead.