Thirty million
Author: Fitz Writes
last update2026-09-28 17:41:57

Chapter 9

Vincent Marchetti stood up from his seat six rows back, his champagne flute raised like a trophy, his voice loud enough to fill the entire auction tent.

"Thirty million! Right here!"

His two friends on either side clapped and whistled like he had just scored a touchdown. Vincent soaked it in, adjusting the collar of his designer shirt with one hand while flashing a grin at the crowd around him.

Then his eyes found Nick.

The grin froze. Then it twisted into something ugly.

"Well, well,
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  • Thirty million

    Chapter 9Vincent Marchetti stood up from his seat six rows back, his champagne flute raised like a trophy, his voice loud enough to fill the entire auction tent."Thirty million! Right here!"His two friends on either side clapped and whistled like he had just scored a touchdown. Vincent soaked it in, adjusting the collar of his designer shirt with one hand while flashing a grin at the crowd around him.Then his eyes found Nick.The grin froze. Then it twisted into something ugly."Well, well, well." Vincent's voice carried across the rows. "Look who crawled in from the gutter. I didn't know they let stray dogs into the Riviera Rendezvous. Somebody must have left the gate open."A few scattered laughs rippled through the nearby seats. Anthony shifted uncomfortably beside Nick, but Nick didn't move. His eyes stayed fixed on the Conqueror sitting on stage, all twenty five tons of matte black armor plating and eight wheel brutality.The auctioneer cleared his throat. "We have thirty mil

  • Curiosity

    Chapter 8Maria Esposito leaned against the counter with her arms folded, studying Nick with those sharp dark eyes like she was reading a recipe and deciding whether to trust it."So let me get this straight," she said. "You walked in here for the first time tonight, ate one meal, and now you want to know my entire cooking philosophy?"Nick shrugged. "When someone is that good at something, I get curious. That crab pot wasn't just food. It was art."Maria tilted her head slightly, and a small, pleased smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She reached under the counter and pulled out a sleek black card with gold lettering."Here." She slid it across the counter toward him. "Twenty percent off. Every visit. No expiration."Nick picked it up. "You give these to everyone who compliments your cooking?""I give them to people who actually notice the difference between good food and great food." Maria's eyes held his for a moment. "Most people just eat. You actually tasted it. That's rare

  • The slap

    Chapter 7Gina Caputo stood in the middle of Bella Mare with her chest heaving and her finger pointed at Nick like a weapon, fully expecting her boyfriend to march over and destroy this nobody who had dared to embarrass her."Baby!" She spun toward the young man rushing from the bar. "This disgusting cockroach and his little girlfriend just humiliated me in front of everyone! They stole our crab pot and he talked to me like I was trash! I want you to"She stopped.Anthony DeLuca's face was not angry. It was terrified. His skin had gone from tanned to the color of wet paper in about three seconds, and his eyes were locked on Nick with a look of pure, undiluted horror."Tony?" Gina's voice dropped. "What's wrong with you? Why are you looking at him like that?"Anthony grabbed her arm so hard she yelped. He yanked her close and whispered through clenched teeth, his voice shaking. "Do you have any idea who that man is?""Who cares who he is? He's nobody! Look at him, he's dressed like a"

  • The crab pot

    Chapter 6Nick spent the entire next morning at the estate's dining table with his laptop open and his credit card practically on fire. Another hundred million dollars vanished into online orders. Canned goods by the pallet. Self heating meals by the thousand. Water purification tablets. Industrial first aid kits. Camping tents rated for arctic conditions. Military grade walkie talkies with a fifty mile range. Portable diesel generators. Cases of whiskey and vodka that would be worth more than gold bars when the liquor stores stopped existing. Cartons of cigarette alternatives that desperate survivors would trade their last can of food for.By two in the afternoon, he finally closed the laptop and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.His phone buzzed. A message from Isabella."Supply list is DONE. Took me all night but I think I covered literally everything. From toilet paper to tactical body armor. Want me to send it over?"Nick typed back with a tired grin. "Send it. And let

  • The shopping Spree

    Chapter 5The next morning came fast. Nick was already dressed and downstairs by six, a cup of coffee in his hand and his phone buzzing with delivery confirmations from the overnight orders he had placed before bed.Michael Romano arrived at seven with his foreman and a crew manifest."Before we start," Nick set his coffee down and looked Michael dead in the eyes. "I need to change the deal."Michael's face tightened. "Change how?""Thirty million covers the materials and the work. But it doesn't guarantee the timeline. Eight days, Michael. I don't need you to aim for it. I don't need you to try your best. I need you to guarantee it. Not a single window unsealed. Not a single wire unconnected. Everything done, tested, and operational in eight days flat."Michael crossed his arms. "Nick, to guarantee that kind of timeline, I'd need to pull every available crew from three other projects. Double shifts. Triple overtime. My accountant would have a heart attack just looking at the payroll.

  • The blueprints

    Chapter 4Nick set up a makeshift nest in the kitchen using a shoebox lined with cotton towels. He filled a bottle cap with water and placed it beside the box, then went out to the garden with a flashlight.It took twenty minutes of digging through soft soil near the hedges before he had a handful of grubs, beetles, and small worms. He carried them back inside and sat down at the kitchen counter."Alright, little guy," he murmured, holding up a small grub between his fingers. "Open up."The chick tilted its head weakly, then opened its beak. Nick placed the grub inside, and the bird swallowed it whole with a tiny, satisfied chirp. He fed it three more grubs and a small beetle, each one placed gently on the bird's tongue with the patience of a man who had nowhere else to be.After the fifth bite, the chick stopped opening its mouth. It blinked twice, tucked its head under its stubby wing, and fell asleep.Nick watched it for a long moment, a soft expression crossing his face that would

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