THE SUPREME KING OF WEALTH

MILLENNIUM REAL ESTATE

He stepped through the revolving glass doors of Millennium Real Estate, and the cool air of the lobby hit his face like a memory he had tried to forget. The building still looked the same—towering marble floors, gold-trimmed reception desk, and crystal lights hanging like quiet statements of power.

Years ago, he had walked here as a respected billionaire investor. Today, he came in with a worn file and a taxi receipt folded in his pocket.

A receptionist looked up and nodded politely. “Good morning, sir. Can I help you?”

Connor gave a small nod. “I’m here for the roundtable interview.”

She checked her list quickly. “Right… top floor conference room. They’re expecting you.”

As he walked across the lobby, a few employees glanced at him. Some nodded in greeting, unsure if they recognized him. Connor returned a calm, controlled wave, then moved toward the elevator. His steps were steady, but his mind remained sharp.

Inside the elevator, one of the staff whispered to another, “Isn’t that… the former investor who lost everything?”

The other replied quietly, “Yeah. I heard he used to own half of this city’s real estate chains.”

Connor said nothing. The doors closed.

The roundtable room on the top floor was wide, polished, and intimidating. A long oval table sat in the center, surrounded by glass walls showing the city skyline. The view screamed power, but the atmosphere inside was colder than the air outside.

Four men were already seated.

David Morgan, Head of Acquisitions, flipped through a folder. “He better not waste our time.”

Henry Collins, Finance Director, leaned back. “Most applicants talk big. Let’s see if he’s different.”

Peter Lawson, Operations Manager, frowned. “Or just another failed businessman trying to relive old glory.”

Brian Hughes, Legal and Compliance Head, adjusted his glasses. “We are not hiring emotions. We are hiring solutions.”

The door opened.

Connor stepped in.

All four men looked up at once.

He gave a calm nod. “Good morning.”

David raised an eyebrow. “You’re Connor Wood?”

Connor replied simply. “Yes.”

Henry smirked. “The same Connor Wood who lost a billion-dollar real estate overnight?”

Connor placed his file gently on the table. “The same.”

A brief silence followed.

Peter chuckled. “Interesting. Sit.”

Connor sat without hesitation.

Moments later, the door opened again.

A tall elderly man entered slowly, wearing a perfectly tailored dark suit and gold-rimmed glasses. His presence changed the room instantly.

David stood immediately. “Mr. Washington.”

The others followed. “Good morning, sir.”

Michael Washington, CEO of Millennium Real Estate, nodded as he walked in with calm authority. “Sit.”

They obeyed instantly.

Washington’s eyes moved to Connor and paused for a second longer than necessary. “So this is him.”

Connor stood slightly. “Good morning, sir.”

Washington gave a short nod. “Let’s begin.”

He sat at the head of the table.

“Your certificate,” Washington said. “Now.”

David gestured. “Hand it over.”

Connor opened his file and handed a document across the table.

Henry scanned it quickly. “Bachelor’s degree in Real Estate Management, with advanced studies in Computer Science and Data Systems.”

Peter scoffed. “Basic.”

Washington leaned forward slightly. “Experience?”

Connor replied evenly. “I have managed large-scale real estate portfolios. Residential, commercial, and mixed-use developments.”

Brian frowned. “You mean when you were still wealthy?”

Connor nodded. “Yes.”

Washington’s voice sharpened. “And now you are here. Why?”

Connor looked at him directly. “Because your company is unstable in ways you are not addressing.”

A faint tension filled the room.

David laughed lightly. “Excuse me?”

Connor continued calmly. “High vacancy rates in three commercial zones. Poor tenant retention due to delayed maintenance. Weak lease structuring causing unstable cash flow. Overvaluation of assets in emerging districts. And your digital listing system is outdated, reducing investor engagement.”

The room went silent for a second.

Then Henry laughed. “This is unbelievable.”

Peter shook his head. “You just walked in and insulted the entire company.”

Washington’s expression darkened. “Are you here to teach me my business?”

Connor remained calm. “I am here to fix it.”

Brian leaned forward. “Fix it? You think you understand Millennium Real Estate better than the man who built it?”

Washington’s voice rose. “You lost everything you had! Your empire collapsed like a student project, and you stand here trying to lecture me?”

Connor did not react.

Washington continued sharply. “Do you know how many professionals I have? How many consultants? And yet you, a man who failed, thinks he can point out flaws I don’t see?”

David smirked. “Maybe we should give him a janitor position instead. At least he can clean up after real professionals.”

Laughter spread across the table.

Connor finally spoke, his voice steady. “Your company has those problems. You just choose to ignore them.”

Henry leaned forward aggressively. “And what proof do you have?”

Connor replied, “Your own internal reports. If you check honestly, you will find everything I just said.”

Washington’s eyes narrowed. He knew. Deep down, he knew the numbers were not perfect. But pride held him in place.

He stood slowly. “I did not come here to be insulted by a failed man.”

Connor also stood.

“I am not insulting you,” Connor said calmly. “I am offering stability.”

Washington’s voice turned cold. “Your own business collapsed overnight. That is the only stability you know.”

Connor looked at him for a moment.

Then he said quietly, “And yet you are afraid to admit I am right.”

A heavy silence followed.

Connor picked up his file.

“I will say this once,” he added. “Fix those issues now, or one day you will be the one begging for solutions from people you mocked today.”

David frowned. “Is that a threat?”

Connor shook his head. “A prediction.”

He turned and walked toward the door.

No one stopped him.

He was just another unemployed man walking out with empty hands.

Outside the building, the wind hit him lightly as he stepped onto the pavement. He stood for a moment, then raised his hand and called a taxi.

It stopped quickly.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

Connor entered. “I will guide you.”

The taxi moved through Midland City.

Minutes later, he arrived at a luxurious building. He handed over folded cash from inside his suit jacket.

The driver looked at him. “That’s all?”

Connor nodded. “That’s all I have left.”

He stepped out and walked inside.

Evening came quietly.

Connor sat alone in his room, the file still on the table.

Then—

BAM! BAM! BAM!

A forceful knock shook the door.

Connor frowned slightly. He stood and opened it.

Clara stood there.

Her eyes were sharp, her expression cold and aggressive. In her hand was a folder and a pen.

Without a word, she pushed past him, entered the room, and slammed the items onto the table.

Connor turned slowly. “Clara… what is this?”