The hum of the Porsche's engine was steady as Ethan navigated through the light afternoon traffic.
His father sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, watching the passing buildings with a quiet, unreadable expression.
Then Ethan's phone rang.
The familiar vibration against his leg made him glance down briefly before putting it on speaker.
"Ethan Grey speaking."
A smooth, professional voice ca through the speakers.
"Mr. Grey, good afternoon. This is Jonathan from Winston Realty. I just wanted to confirm that the paperwork for your purchase has been finalized and is ready for signing. Everything is in order, and we appreciate your swift transaction."
Ethan nodded, his fingers tapping the steering wheel lightly. "Got it. I'm on my way now."
"Perfect. We'll be expecting you. See you soon."
The call ended with a soft beep, and Ethan returned his focus to the road.
His father, who had remained quiet the entire ti, finally shifted in his seat.
"You bought the place that fast?"
Ethan smirked slightly. "When the deal's good, you don't hesitate."
His father gave a small, thoughtful nod but didn't say anything else.
Ethan knew his old man wasn't the kind to be easily impressed by money or fast transactions — he had built his life on hard work, slow and steady.
This, to him, must've seed surreal.
As they took a turn, the familiar sight of the comrcial district ca into view.
The area was thriving — people walked the sidewalks, carrying bags from various small businesses.
So stores had open patios, others had large glass windows showcasing their goods.
It was the perfect place for a shop to flourish. Even if there were many competing shops, one would still make a lot of money here.
Ethan pulled into an open parking spot in front of a two-story brick building with large, clean windows.
The For Sale sign had already been removed from the front, replaced by a simple [Under New Ownership] notice on the door.
He shut off the engine. "We're here."
His father slowly took in the sight of the building, his eyes scanning the structure, the location, the people walking by.
His fingers drumd against his knee — a small, subconscious habit Ethan had picked up on over the years, one that ant he was deep in thought.
"Looks solid," his father murmured. "Good area. Good foot traffic."
Ethan smirked. "Told you."
His father exhaled and opened the car door without another word.
Ethan followed suit, leading the way inside.
The interior was just as well-maintained as he expected.
The first floor was spacious, designed for comrcial use, with polished wooden floors and enough space for shelving and counters.
A set of stairs led up to the second floor, likely ant for storage or a small office.
A sharply dressed man was already waiting inside, standing near the counter with a folder of docunts in his hands.
He smiled as they entered.
"Mr. Grey," he greeted, extending a hand.
Ethan shook it firmly. "Jonathan."
Jonathan nodded at Ethan's father politely before placing the folder on the counter and opening it.
"As discussed, everything is in order. This building is now officially yours. All we need is a signature to complete the transfer."
Ethan turned to his father and handed him the pen. "Go ahead."
His father hesitated, looking at the papers, then at Ethan. "You sure about this?"
Ethan t his gaze, unwavering. "I wouldn't have brought you here if I wasn't."
His father studied him for a long mont before exhaling.
Without another word, he took the pen and leaned over the papers.
The silence in the room stretched as he carefully signed each docunt, his handwriting firm and deliberate.
Once the last page was done, Jonathan smiled.
"And with that, congratulations. The shop is officially yours."
Ethan's father straightened, looking at the papers as if they were sothing foreign, sothing unexpected.
He ran a hand over the counter, nodding to himself. "Feels real now."
Ethan smirked. "It is real."
His father let out a quiet chuckle and shook his head. "You really went ahead and did this."
"I did."
His father looked around the space, taking it in fully now, seeing it not just as a building but as his.
A small, satisfied smile tugged at his lips. "It's a damn good store."
"I know," Ethan said smugly.
His father shot him a look but chuckled again. "Guess I should start thinking about what to do with the place, huh?"
Ethan leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "I was thinking you could do sothing familiar. Repairs, maybe? You've got years of experience. You could start selling stuff too,"
His father rubbed his chin. "Yeah… that could work. Plenty of people still look for hands-on repair services instead of buying new junk."
Ethan nodded. "Exactly. And with a busy location like this, you won't have to worry about business."
His father exhaled, shaking his head again but this ti with sothing lighter in his expression.
"You know… I always thought if I ever owned a place in the comrcial district, it'd be from years of saving, not from my son dropping a deal in my lap."
Ethan smirked. "Well, you raised a smart son."
His father chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "That I did."
Jonathan, who had been politely silent during their exchange, finally spoke up.
"We'll handle the final filings on our end, but otherwise, you're all set. If you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out."
Ethan shook his hand again. "Appreciate it."
As they stepped back outside, the late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the street.
His father took another long look at the building, then at Ethan.
"…Thank you once agajn."
It wasn't said in a dramatic way.
It was simple, quiet — but heavy with aning.
Ethan just nodded. "You deserve it."
His father sighed, but it was a good sigh — one of relief, maybe even sothing close to contentnt.
"Alright," he said, stretching his arms. "Let's head ho. Got a lot of planning to do."
Ethan smirked. "That's the spirit."
As they got into the car, Ethan's phone buzzed again.
Another notification from the System. Probably to bring information about this new investnt.
But for now, he let it wait.
This was his father's mont.
And that was worth more than any deal.
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