Evening — The Rosehill Terrace
The warm golden glow of vintage chandeliers lit the soft velvet interior of The Rosehill Terrace, one of Westbridge's most exclusive fine-dining establishments.
Nestled in the heart of the city's cultural district, the restaurant was known for its private booths, rare wine selection, and strict reservation-only policy—frequented mostly by the offspring of CEOs, media moguls, and legacy billionaires.
As Stacy opened the door to a private booth, laughter spilled into the hallway.
Inside, a group of six young men and women sat comfortably, sipping drinks and nibbling from shared platters of gourmet appetizers. Everyone in the room was either born into wealth or had connections that made doors open effortlessly.
At her entrance, the group greeted her casually. Kristie waved her over with a smile and patted the seat beside her.
"Stace! Over here."
Stacy smiled and slid into the open spot beside her.
"Hey, Kristie."
"You're just in time. Alex was about to spill something wild he heard from his dad earlier today," Kristie said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Across the table, Alex Newman—the only son of the regional Vice President of SilverStone Realty—nodded at Stacy politely.
"Hi, Stacy."
"Hi, Alex," she replied.
As the conversation resumed, Stacy leaned back and folded her arms, her attention half-on the wine glass in front of her. But as Alex began talking, her ears tuned in.
"So," Alex started again, "I went to see my dad at his office earlier today, yeah? And when I got there, I saw him standing outside—just… staring at the street like he was waiting for someone important."
Kristie frowned. "Your dad doesn't leave his desk for anyone."
"Exactly," Alex said. "So I asked him what was up. He said he had just seen off a new VVIP client."
That got a few raised brows.
"My interest kind of faded there," Alex continued. "I figured it was another Saudi prince or aging billionaire."
A couple of the group chuckled.
"But then he said something that completely threw me. The client?" Alex paused for effect. "He said the guy looked to be around my age. Maybe even younger."
That shifted the atmosphere immediately. Everyone straightened slightly in their seats.
"What?" someone asked.
"Yup. Kid didn't look a day over twenty."
Kristie narrowed her eyes. "A VVIP client at SilverStone? But that means—"
Alex nodded. "Property worth at least ten mil. Minimum. I asked my dad what kind of property it was, and he didn't give me a number, but he did give me the name."
He let the suspense hang, knowing he had them right where he wanted them.
Finally, he said, "White Clover Residential Complex. Yellow Creek Avenue."
The reaction was immediate.
Gasps spread around the table. A few mouths fell open in disbelief. Even the server who had just walked by did a double take when he heard the name.
"Wait, what?" Kristie said, stunned. "That's… That's like the crown jewel of that entire district."
"Exactly," Alex said, visibly pleased with the reaction. "I thought the same thing. And you know how tight the ownership circle is in Yellow Creek. Even renting there is practically invitation-only."
Someone else chimed in. "You need serious political or financial backing just to be considered. And a whole complex?"
Alex nodded. "That's why I kept pressing. Of course, my dad wouldn't say anything. But I did manage to get the receptionist to give me something."
The table leaned in collectively.
"She didn't give me the full name, obviously. But after a lot of persuading—and a small bribe—she told me the guy's first name. Just one word: Liam."
At that moment, Stacy froze.
Her grip tightened slightly on the stem of her wine glass, and she turned her head toward Alex.
He caught her reaction and smiled knowingly. "Stacy," he said playfully, "looks like you know something. Curious, are we?"
She tried to keep her expression calm. "Just surprised, that's all. It's… unexpected."
Alex leaned back. "Wish I could dig more, but you all know how SilverStone operates. VVIP clients are practically ghosts. I don't want to cause problems for my dad."
Everyone nodded in understanding.
But Stacy didn't respond.
Her mind was racing. Liam… The name was still echoing in her ears.
She remembered their conversation from earlier. He had told her he was busy. That he had something important to take care of.
Could it be…?
Could that Liam be her Liam?
The one who sat across from her this afternoon with such calm composure…?
She sipped her drink slowly, trying to appear unfazed. But inside, a storm was brewing.
***
Later That Evening — Liam's Penthouse
Liam lounged on the large sectional sofa, one arm stretched behind his head, the other scrolling lazily through his phone.
A movie played in the background—something lighthearted he wasn't really watching. He had returned from his outing nearly an hour ago, and time had passed sluggishly since then.
Truth be told, he was bored.
As someone who had spent most of his life working to survive, and had no opportunity to truly live his life, Liam had never truly learned how to have fun. Even now, with nearly a million dollars in his account and a system that gave him passive rewards, he felt strangely... unequipped.
For the first time in years, he had no schedule. There was no boss breathing down his neck and no overdue rent or mounting bills to stress over.
He was free from everything and yet, here he was, scrolling between news, memes, and online store listings, trying to feel something.
"Should I try clubbing tonight?" he muttered, barely convincing himself.
The thought felt foreign. He had never been to a club before. The idea of flashing lights, loud music, and shoulder-to-shoulder crowds didn't appeal to him. At least not alone.
More importantly, he didn't want to walk into something unfamiliar without at least one person who knew the scene.
Scratch that idea.
His eyes drifted to the screen again.
"Maybe I should get a new phone," he said aloud.
The one he was using was several years old—an Android with a cracked edge and sluggish response times. It had served him faithfully, but it didn't reflect who he was now.
"iPhone or Android?" he pondered.
He wasn't loyal to either, and now that he could afford anything he wanted, he decided he'd just walk into a store tomorrow and buy whatever felt good in his hand.
No more overthinking.
Eventually, night fell. And despite the luxury surrounding him, the evening passed quietly.
He had scrolled through tech articles, played a few rounds on the PS5, and reheated leftovers from earlier. It wasn't thrilling—but it was peaceful.
Still, the emptiness lingered.
As he climbed into bed and pulled the soft, high-thread-count blanket over his shoulders, he stared at the ceiling.
"This can't be all I do," he murmured.
He knew that if he kept isolating himself like this, even paradise would feel like a cage.
"Guess I'll have to start socializing. That shouldn't be hard… right?" he muttered to himself.
Not wanting to overthink it, Liam closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.
Tomorrow was another day and he was curiously looking forward to the rewards he would receive. Maybe he will receive a surprise like today. He can only wait and see.