2025-07-27 22:46:36
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Another brief silence passed before Eleanor continued.“My husband had been battling sickness for the last eight months. It was slow and very painful. I stayed by his side the entire time. I didn’t tell anyone because—” she paused, glancing away for a moment, “no one ever wanted to meet him. Not once. They had no interest in him because he wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t from money. But he was a good man. And I loved him. So I married him anyway.”Barry listened intently, watching the way her voice softened when she spoke about her husband.“My father,” she continued, “he disowned me the moment I told him I was marrying below my class. He cut me off—no funds, no support. And the rest of the family followed suit. They don’t even know what he looked like. Not a single one of them.”She looked up at Barry now. Her eyes were firm again. “And now, my father wants to hand over Drayton Enterprises to one of his children. I want it to be me. That’s why I accepted the invitation. But there’s a c
The Dayton crisis
Mr. Drayton's sharp voice cut through the air. "Eleanor, take your seat and don't waste my time." His tone left no room for argument. Eleanor gave Barry a brief nod and led him to two empty seats along the left side of the table. They sat down quietly, while Mr. Drayton leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.Mr. Drayton surveyed the room, his expression stoic. His children with their spouses beside them, waited in tense silence. Finally, he began. “I’ve gathered you all here for a reason,” he said. “I’ve been advised to sign for bankruptcy. Drayton Enterprises is a shadow of what it once was. I’ve pulled every string, made every call, sacrificed more than you can imagine… but now, it’s out of my hands.” He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "That’s why I’ve called this meeting. To give each of you a chance. Whoever among you can save this company from collapse will be named its new chairman." The room erupted in murmurs.Chairs creaked as sibli
The interview
The next morning, Barry arrived at 52 Grandhill Avenue, dressed in the midnight-blue suit he’d gambled nearly all his money on. He stepped into a tall glass building nestled between a row of corporate offices.He checked in with the receptionist, and was led through a narrow hallway into a quiet, elegantly furnished room.A few moments later, the door opened, and a young woman stepped in.She was stunning—early thirties, with long raven-black hair tied into a loose bun. Her eyes were sharp but carried the softness of someone who'd been taught to smile through her troubles. She wore a tailored cream blazer over a silk blouse, and red heels that clicked gently against the floor as she walked up to him.Everything about her screamed money. She sat down across from Barry and folded her hands neatly on the table.“You must be Barry,” she said, her voice calm, businesslike.“That’s me.”"I’m Eleanor Drayton,” she said. “But before we go any further, I should tell you something important.
A job offer
The following morning, Barry sat on a creaky wooden bench outside the landlord’s temporary office.It was a small metal container parked beside the damaged apartment complex. He could still smell the smoke and damp ash lingering in the air. Caution tape lined the charred entrance to his block. A few of the tenants passed by, shooting him angry or pitying glances.Inside the container, the landlord sat behind a flimsy desk, tapping aggressively on a calculator. His face was still swollen with frustration from the night before. A printed sheet lay in front of him with a list of repairs and itemized damage costs.Soon, Barry was summoned. When he stepped inside, the landlord didn’t even look up."You owe me $56,000," he spat. "That's what it'll cost to repair the damage your carelessness caused. Gas leak, fire damage, electrical rewiring, structural repairs, repainting, replacement of doors, windows, and your entire unit’s furnishings. Not to mention the stress you’ve caused me and t
The Second misfortune
Barry sat hunched in one of the plastic chairs. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the hospital lobby as he rubbed his temples.His mind replayed the accident again and again—how fast it had all happened, how helpless he had felt in that single moment. The waiting was torture. He just needed to know the man would be okay. Then, the door to the doctor's office slammed open. Barry's head snapped up as his boss, Mr. Calloway, and Jordan marched out. Jordan's face was masked in anger as he immediately jabbed a finger in Barry's direction. "You're in a lot of trouble, Barry," Jordan growled, his voice loud enough for everyone in the lobby to hear.Mr. Calloway held up a hand, cutting him off. "I'll handle this. Give us a moment, Jordan." Jordan hesitated, glaring at Barry for a second longer before huffing and stomping off toward the exit.As soon as they were alone, Barry turned to the boss. "What about Rick? Is he okay?" Mr. Calloway sighed, running a hand over his thinnin
The Wait
A month had passed since Barry left his life behind. Now, he sat on a stack of steel beams under the shade of a half-built warehouse, wearing a stained orange vest and a hard hat. The midday sun hung high, casting waves of heat across the construction site. Dust clung to his boots and pants, and sweat rolled down the back of his neck.He unwrapped a sandwich he’d packed that morning. It was just bread, lettuce, and a slice of ham.The bread was a little dry, the ham a little thin, but he didn’t complain. This was his life now. The midday sun beat down on his back as he took a bite, the dry bread sticking in his throat. He washed it down with lukewarm water from a dented canteen. For a while, he sat there, his mind racing with questions. What was he even doing here? He’d been in Z City for weeks now. This was the very same city where he had once rescued Adam from the Homeland family. And yet, despite everything the Golden Cat had warned, the Black Cat of Misfortune hadn’t sh
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