THE SUPREME NATHAN THORNS (The City's god)

“Master Nathan, please, just take the card. You’re the chairman of Dynasty Group. If you don’t believe me, take this card to Narvo Bank. Enter your birthday and check the balance. Everything will be revealed.”

Liera’s voice was calm but firm, her green eyes glistening with reverence. Without waiting for a response, she placed the sleek gold card on the table in front of him and bowed deeply—almost folding herself in half—before turning and walking out of the café.

After countless attempts to convince him, she had given up on words. Now, she would let the truth speak for itself.

Her heels clicked sharply against the floor. Outside, a black Rolls-Royce waited, its engine purring softly as she slid into the back seat.

A convoy of luxury cars followed her departure, leaving Nathan alone with the card and his thoughts.

Nathan stared at the card, his expression unreadable.

He didn’t pick it up immediately, instead letting out a low, humorless laugh. “Chairman of Dynasty Group? Me? What a joke.”

He had heard her out several times before, listened to her elaborate explanations about his supposed past, his wealth, his power. But it was all too absurd to believe.

He was just a waiter, a man who had built a quiet life out of the ashes of his forgotten memories. The idea that he was some billionaire tycoon was laughable.

Still, something about the way she had looked at him—the way she had bowed—stirred a flicker of unease in his chest.

He picked up the card, turning it over in his hands. It felt heavy, not in weight but in implication.

“Fine,” he muttered, slipping the card into his pocket. “I’ll play along. But this changes nothing.”

Now he needed to focus. Today is his anniversary with his wife Natalia.

For this great day, he had meticulously planned to leave work early and make dinner for his wife to celebrate it.

As he wiped down another table, a familiar, elegant figure entered the café. 

Natalia’s long chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her perfectly symmetrical face.

Her turquoise eyes sparkled as they always did, a feature that had captivated Nathan from the moment they met.

She carried herself with the effortless grace as the CEO of Sparkling Enterprises, her tailored black dress hugging her hourglass figure.

 But Nathan’s smile faltered when he noticed the man walking beside her.

The man’s perfectly pressed navy suit screamed affluence, and the arrogant tilt of his chin made his disdain for the café obvious. 

As they approached, Nathan instinctively tightened his grip on the cleaning rag.

“Natalia?” he asked, his voice laced with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t return his smile. Instead, she took a deep breath, her turquoise eyes hardening slightly. “Nathan, we need to talk.”

His stomach twisted. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” she said bluntly. “I want a divorce.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His hand froze mid-movement, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“A divorce? Natalia, what are you talking about? Why?”

“We’re no longer suited for each other, Nathan. Our statuses don’t match. I’ve grown, and…you haven’t.” She said coldly, avoiding his gaze.

Nathan stared at her, stunned. “Statuses? Natalia, we’ve been married for three years. How can you say we’re not suited?”

James smirked, stepping forward. “Oh, come on, trash. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Natalia’s just being generous here.”

“Generous?” Nathan asked bitterly.

Natalia pulled out a cheque book, her movements calm yet deliberate. “I’ve already prepared some compensation. Ten million. It’s more than enough to set you up for life.”

Nathan laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Ten million? That’s what three years of marriage is worth to you?”

She hesitated, then added, “Not enough?I’ll triple it—thirty million. That should be sufficient.”

“Sufficient?” Nathan’s voice cracked. “That’s what my years of support, sacrifice, and love amount to for you? ”

James chuckled, his tone dripping with mockery. “Just face it! You’re a cleaner in a dingy café. Even her driver earns ten times what you do. Be grateful she’s offering you anything at all.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “And you,” he said, glaring at James, “who exactly are you in all this?”

James smirked. “James Baron, heir to the Rhyners. Maybe you’ve heard of us? Natalia needs someone who matches her status—not someone who wipes tables for a living.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed, recognizing the name. James was from one of the city’s wealthiest families. His presence suddenly made sense. He was probably the new man Natalia considered suitable for her.

James tossed a set of papers onto the table with a flourish. “Here’s the divorce agreement. Sign it and move on.”

Natalia hesitated, pulling out her pen and cheque book. “If thirty million isn’t enough, name your price, Nathan.”

Nathan looked at her, his heart heavy with disappointment. “You still don’t get it, do you? I don’t want your money, Natalia.”

“Then what do you want?” she asked softly.

“I wanted us,” he said, his voice cold. “But clearly, that’s not what you want anymore.”

He took the pen and signed the papers without another word, his hands trembling slightly.

When he was done, he placed them back on the desk and looked at her one last time. “I hope your new life is everything you want it to be,” he said, his voice laced with quiet finality.

Natalia took them. For a brief moment, she seemed conflicted, but she quickly pushed the feeling aside and left with James quietly.

Nathan stood there, clenched his fists and let out a bitter laugh.

Was money really that important? 

Shaking his head slightly,  he reached into his pocket, his fingers brushed against the black card Liera had given him. Her words echoed in his mind. 

Is he really the trillionaire like she said?

Maybe it was time to find out the truth.