Lucious wiped his fingers on his jeans, the scent of cheap ran still lingering in the air. His old kitchen chair creaked beneath him as he leaned back, the plastic phone warm against his cheek.
"Lucious," ca Mr. Weng’s voice, smooth and crisp, like silk over glass. "You free this week?"
He slurped the last of the broth, set the bowl aside, and reached for a paper napkin. "Depends. Why?"
"There’s an event being hosted by the Huang family. One of the oldest, wealthiest nas in the capital. A fashion gala—invitation only. Top-tier guest list."
Lucious raised an eyebrow. "And you want there... why?"
"Networking," Weng replied. "This isn’t just a party. It’s where power moves silently. Where partnerships are born over champagne flutes and exchanged glances. You’ve made noise. That makes people curious."
Lucious let the silence stretch a beat. "I’ll think about it."
"Do more than think. You’ve got a seat. Use it." The line clicked dead.
He dropped the phone on the table and stared at the peeling wallpaper, the faded lemons and flowers pattern curling from age. His apartnt was small—two rooms and a water heater that whined like an old dog—but it had been ho.
He pulled out his phone again and opened his banking app.
Balance: $7,326,218.04.
He exhaled hard, rubbing a hand down his face.
"...Why the hell am I still living like this?"
⸻
Fifteen minutes later, Lucious rolled into the city on his scratched-up scooter, the engine rattling like a smoker’s cough. His helt sat slightly crooked, but he didn’t care. He parked outside a sleek, mirrored tower—BrightPeak Properties. Frosted glass doors. A revolving lobby. The kind of place that never used to buzz him in.
He walked inside. Cool air wrapped around him, slling faintly of lavender and money. The marble beneath his shoes shone like a lake.
Behind the front desk, a familiar figure looked up.
Lana.
For a split second, recognition flickered in her eyes. Then the practiced receptionist smile slid into place, tight and hollow.
She used to flirt with him. Smile like he was soone. That was back when he was making noise—before everything had gone to hell.
"Can I help you?" she asked, voice breezy.
"Yeah," Lucious said evenly. "Looking to buy."
She blinked. "Rental listings are all on our website—"
"I said buy."
Her lips curled at the corners.
Then she laughed. Right in his face.
It wasn’t loud, but it was sharp—short and smug and ant to sting.
"Our luxury listings start at a million," Lana said, crossing her arms. "You’re in the wrong place, sweetheart. Rentals are online. Try those."
Lucious didn’t respond. He didn’t blink.
She rolled her eyes, then turned away—already done with him.
"Next?" she called out.
A young man in a suit stepped forward behind Lucious, and Lana bead like soone had turned on a spotlight.
"Hi there," she said, her tone flipping into sugary charm. "Looking for sothing with a view, I bet?"
Lucious stepped aside slightly, not wanting to cause a scene. He didn’t need this. He could’ve gone to another agency. Maybe he should’ve.
Then, beside him, ca a quiet voice.
"Um..."
He turned.
A girl stood there awkwardly, clutching a leather folder against her chest. Her blazer was a size too big, sleeves a little long. She had a na tag—Emily.
but it was half-twisted. Her ponytail was a bit uneven, and she looked like she’d been on her first week of work.
"I, uh... I can help you. If you still... want help." She barely t his eyes.
Lucious glanced at her, then back toward the door. He was already halfway to leaving when—
Lana’s voice cut through.
"Oh, Emily. Don’t waste your ti. He doesn’t have any money."
Emily froze. Her fingers tightened around the folder.
"He’s just here to waste everyone’s ti," Lana added, still smiling at the man she’d moved on to. "You’ll learn to spot them after a while."
Lucious stared at her for a long second. That fake smile. That voice like poisoned honey.
He turned to Emily.
"You free right now?"
She blinked. "Y-yes."
"Show your most expensive listing."
Emily’s eyes widened, but she nodded quickly. "Of course. Yes. Right this way."
Lana turned, confused. "Wait—what?"
Lucious didn’t even acknowledge her.
He followed the quiet girl through the polished glass doors and out into the sunlight.
⸻
They toured three properties. The first two were impressive. The third was unreal.
Penthouse. High ceilings. A private elevator that opened directly into the unit. The floors were Italian marble, the walls glass. A view of the city that looked like sothing out of a movie.
Lucious walked through it in silence.
Emily stayed back, fidgeting with the folder in her hands.
"How much?" he asked, finally.
"Um... list is 2.1 million," she said softly, like she expected him to flinch.
He didn’t.
"I’ll take it."
Emily blinked hard. "W-wait—really?"
"I was going to buy sowhere else," Lucious said, pulling out his phone. "But soone here made an impression."
He tapped through his banking app, scanned his face, and hit send.
A mont later, Emily’s phone buzzed. She fumbled to check it.
Her mouth parted.
"It cleared."
Lucious nodded. "Good. I want the keys today."
Emily almost tripped over her own feet nodding. "Y-yes, sir. Absolutely."
⸻
Back at the office, the front doors swung open. Lana was still talking to her other client, smiling with her best showroom teeth, when she saw Lucious and Emily walking in.
Emily practically bounced to the front desk, her voice carrying for once. "Mr. Lucious’s purchase is confird. Keycard, docunts, all here."
She handed him a sleek envelope. Lucious took it with a calm smile and turned—just as Lana was staring at him, frozen mid-sentence.
"You got a phone?"
Emily blinked. "I—I an, yes."
"Good. Put your number in mine."
Her hands fumbled slightly as she reached for his phone. She typed quickly, cheeks a little pink.
He took it back, gave a small nod.
Then he turned.
Didn’t look at Lana. Didn’t speak to her. Didn’t even glance her way.
He walked past her like she didn’t exist.
The front doors opened with a soft chi and closed behind him with a final click.
⸻
Outside, the sun was dipping behind the skyline, casting long gold shadows over the glass towers around him.
Lucious looked down at the keycard in his hand.
"Next," he muttered to himself, slipping it into his pocket, "is a car... and a suit."
He walked off down the sidewalk, the city moving around him.
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