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It all started with $500. That was how much a private clinic offered me to take part in an experimental vision study. I needed the money, so I signed the documents without really reading them.
A young man gains the ability to see price tags over people and objects after a clinic study, using it to outwit antique dealers and build an unexpected career path.
Key Takeaways
- A supernatural side effect of an experimental procedure gives the protagonist unusual insight into wealth and value.
- Genuine expertise (recognizing marks and craftsmanship) can outperform inflated appearances and sales pressure.
- The story contrasts honest effort with the temptation of easy money and greed.
What the video covers
- The narrator, Ryan, a history graduate in debt, joins a paid vision study at a private clinic and afterward sees price tags floating above people and objects.
- While working at a hotel front desk, he sees the number above a wealthy woman's head rise, revealing it represents her money.
- He interviews at an antique shop owned by Walter Parker, where the displayed prices are wildly inflated compared to what he perceives as real value.
- Ryan exposes a porcelain vase as a 20th-century piece (identified by the Fifer dot mark) rather than 18th-century, impressing elderly expert Mr. Quinn.
- Mr. Quinn offers Ryan a chance to choose any item; Ryan selects a silver teapot with a $200,000 tag despite Parker valuing it at $20,000.
- After cleaning, the teapot reveals the 'Revere' maker's mark, suggesting it was made by Paul Revere, and Mr. Quinn's purchase proves highly profitable.
- The story follows subsequent chapters involving auctions, family dynamics, business meetings, and further valuation challenges.
- Themes include wealth perception, expertise versus appearances, greed, and the value of honest work.
- The transcript includes narrative jumps and inconsistencies in later sections (e.g., shifting characters and settings), suggesting a serialized or loosely edited story.
Full Transcript — Download SRT & Markdown
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The procedure took less than an hour. The doctors assured me there would be no side effects, but from that day on, price tags began appearing above everything I looked at. At first, I thought I was simply having vision
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problems after the procedure. But today, February 14th, while I was working part-time at the front desk of a hotel, I saw the number 1,000 above a woman's head. When she checked out of her room looking very satisfied, another zero was
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added to the number, turning it into 10,000. That was when I realized it. The number above a person's head showed how much money they had. A few minutes later, the woman got into a Rolls-Royce where some rich man was waiting for her.
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I watched the car drive away and could not help feeling envious. "All right, forget it, Ryan," I muttered. "It's better to earn money honestly." After my shift, I went to an interview at an antique shop. My history degree and
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minor in archaeology had brought me nothing but debt so far. To build an academic career, I would have to study for several more years, so a job at a museum or an antique shop was my only realistic option. When I arrived, the
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shop owner, Walter Parker, was talking to an elderly customer. All I could do was wait, so I began looking around.
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Coffee table, $15,000. First saleswoman, $520. Second saleswoman, $5,200. Antique teapot, $200,000. I stopped abruptly. What? 200,000 for a teapot? No way. Meanwhile, the elderly customer stopped in front of a porcelain vase and carefully picked it up. "An interesting piece," he said. Parker
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immediately became animated. "Mr. Quinn, nothing gets past you. I deliberately put this vase farther away, but you still found it." Mr. Quinn sat down at the coffee table, took out a magnifying glass, and began carefully examining the vase. 15 minutes passed. He put down the
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magnifying glass and looked at the shop owner. Vases of this quality are rare. How much do you want for it? No less than $400,000.
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I offer $300,000. I could not hold back. $300,000? They both looked at me, but I was too stunned to pay attention to that. A price tag was clearly glowing above the vase. $4,000.
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300,000 divided by 4. I quickly calculated it in my head. He's selling it for 75 times its actual value. If Parker managed to pull off this deal, even Warren Buffett would call him a genius. My sudden exclamation made both
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of them flinch. Why the hell are you yelling? Parker snapped. He had almost closed a $300,000 deal, and I had clearly ruined the moment for him. If you break this vase, you won't be able to pay it off in your entire life. After
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he spoke to me like that, my mood quickly soured, too. This vase is worth only $4,000.
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It has nothing to do with 18th century M. I replied coldly. The smile instantly disappeared from Parker's face. $4,000?
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You're saying my vase is worth only $4,000? What nonsense? Do you even understand who you're talking to? Mr.
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Quinn is one of the most respected antique experts. If even he recognized the vase as genuine, who are you to argue with him? Parker pointed at the door. The interview is over. Get out.
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However, Mr. Quinn ignored him and beckoned me over. Come here. Then he raised his hand to stop Parker and looked at me with interest. Young man, explain why you think this vase is worth only $4,000.
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Parker sneered contemptuously. Let's hear it. I'm curious to see how he gets out of this now. I calmly began. M is famous German porcelain that collectors pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for. The vase looks convincing on the
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outside. Highquality glaze, a cobalt pattern, and gilding. But the true age of M is easy to determine from its mark.
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I carefully turned the vase over and pointed to the cross swords on its base.
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Do you see the small dot between the blades? This mark was used only from 1924 to 1934.
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Parker became confused and hurriedly pulled out his phone. Mr. Quinn picked up the magnifying glass again and carefully examined the mark. A few seconds later, his expression changed.
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"You don't need to look it up," he said coldly. "The young man is right. This is the so-called Fifer dot. The vase was made in the 20th century. The 20th?
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Parker turned pale. The vase he had passed off as an 18th century piece turned out to be almost 200 years newer.
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Mr. Quinn I. The old man snorted with displeasure. I missed the mark, too, so I won't make a scene this time. Then he turned to me. You have a sharp eye and a good head on your shoulders, Ryan. Let's
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do this. Choose any item in this shop for me. Whatever you choose, I'll buy it. Are you sure? I asked. What if I'm wrong and you lose money? If it weren't for you, I would have already paid 300,000 for a vase worth 4,000. You just
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saved me a fortune, so choose. Parker immediately changed his tone and forced a smile. If you noticed such a tiny detail, then you really do know something about antiques. Go ahead and choose. My shop is full of valuable
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items. Let's see if your eye is really that good. His smug smile made it clear that Parker expected to make money no matter what I chose. He was sure the entire shop was filled with cheap fakes.
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All right, since Mr. Quinn trusts me, I'll choose one item. I remained calm on the outside, even though I was already celebrating inside. For appearances, I walked between the shelves several times. I had already managed to assess every item here. An absurdly low price
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tag hung above almost every one of them. Almost everyone. I stopped in front of a small teapot. Above it glowed. $200,000.
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This teapot looks interesting. I picked up the silver teapot and carefully examined it. Parker laughed. You do know how to choose after all. This is early 20th century American silver. Excellent work. Beautiful patina. Mr. Quinn also looked at the teapot, but he shook his
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head almost immediately. Judging by its shape and the way the silver had been worked, Parker could be right. The problem was that there was no visible maker's mark or serial number on the surface. Without them, the teapot remained an ordinary highquality
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reproduction of unknown origin. Similar pieces sometimes sold for several thousand, but they had no special value to collectors. If you want it, I'll let it go for 20,000, Parker offered. He turned to me. Well, are you sure you're
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choosing this one? Yes, we'll take this teapot. I had no proof yet, but the price tag above it could not be wrong.
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$200,000. Even if Parker was asking 20,000, Mr. Quinn would still come out far ahead. He paid by card. Parker could barely hide his joy. He later admitted that he had bought the teapot for only $3,000. He made 17,000 from one sale and was
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completely satisfied with the deal. Now tell me what you saw in it. Mr. Quinn asked. I examined the shape of the body, the spout, and the handle attachment once more. It looks like a silver teapot from Paul River's workshop. Paul Rivere.
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Parker burst out laughing. The famous hero of the American Revolution. Young man, you have a vivid imagination. Paul Rivere was not only a participant in the revolution, but also one of Boston's finest silver smiths, I replied calmly.
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His works are worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Mr. Quinn took the teapot from me and examined it again.
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The shape really does resemble the late 18th century. If this is Rever's work, his mark should be near the base of the handle. It may be hidden under a layer of tarnished silver, but cleaning old patina is risky. I noted if the mark
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is not there, the teapot will only lose value. We paid 20,000 for it, and thanks to you, I just avoided losing 300,000.
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The risk is completely justified. Mr. Quinn asked Parker for a silver care kit and carefully cleaned a small area beside the handle. Letters gradually appeared beneath the dark tarnish.
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"Rever. Reve!" Parker exclaimed. He froze in place. Paul Rivere was one of the most famous silver smiths in colonial America. His genuine works sold at auction for hundreds of thousands of dollars, and Parker had just given one away for 20,000. It can't be, he
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muttered. My Paul rever teapot. Mr. Quinn no longer paid attention to him. The mark was now clear enough to see.
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The shape of the body, the method used to attach the handle, and the silverwork technique also matched work from the late 18th century. There was almost no doubt left. Unfortunately, part of the mark had worn away. There was a small
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dent in the base, and the cleaning had slightly damaged the patina. Because of this, the teapot was no longer worth half a million. But even in this condition, its price was about $200,000.
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At a purchase price of 20,000, this was not just a good deal. It was a jackpot.
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Parker looked as if he had just lost his own house. "Mr. Quinn laughed and left the shop with me." "I still don't know your full name," he said, patting me on the shoulder. "Ryan Hayes. I recently graduated from New York University with
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a degree in history. Archaeology was my minor. Now I understand where your knowledge comes from. Did you come to Parker looking for a job? Yes, I'm looking for a proper job in my field right now. Mr. Quinn thought for a
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moment. Then go to Empire Pawn and Auction on Madison Avenue today. Ask for Richard Quinn. He'll find a place for you. I looked at him in surprise. Empire Pawn and auction was one of the largest auction and pawn companies in New York.
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People said that even entry-level appraisers there were paid very well. I'm not sure that would be appropriate.
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What's inappropriate about it? Today you saved me $300,000 and helped me earn almost another $200,000. At first, I wanted to simply pay you, but a good job will be much more useful to you. All right, then. Thank you. I nodded, though
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I added in my thoughts. I wouldn't have refused the money either. I truly needed it now. In a few days, I had to move out of my room in the university dorm. I had less than $2,000 left in my bank
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account, while rent for even the most basic studio apartment in New York cost more than 2,000 a month. If I did not find a job urgently, I would have to ask my parents for help again. My family lived in a small town in Ohio. My mother
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worked as an elementary school teacher and my father was a shift supervisor at the local factory. They earned enough for a comfortable life, but my younger sister had also recently been accepted to New York University. Her tuition and
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move required a huge amount of money. I had already graduated from college and did not want to become a burden on my family again. I had lost quite a bit of time because of what happened at the antique shop, but it was only just after
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3. I called a car and headed to Empire Pawn and Auction. Half an hour later, I arrived on Madison Avenue. I knew the company was large, but I was still surprised when I saw its office. Behind the glass facade was a spacious hall
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with marble floors, private meeting rooms, and armored display cases. This place looked more like an expensive bank than an ordinary pawn shop. A security guard stood at the entrance. Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you? I'm looking for Richard Quinn. The guard
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froze. Richard Quinn? Yes. He is the chairman of our company. Do you have an appointment? No. I was told to come here and ask for him. Who told you? I hesitated. Mr. Quinn had never told me his full name. An elderly man whose last
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name is Quinn. The guard looked at me even more suspiciously. Our chairman is not working at this branch today, but I was told to come here specifically. Who exactly told you that? Before I could answer, a woman's voice came from behind
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me. Mark, what's going on? I turned around. A tall young woman about my age approached us. She was not wearing anything flashy, but every part of her outfit looked expensive. Price tags immediately appeared above her things.
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Sunglasses $1,600. Watch $24,000. Handbag $5,000. T-shirt $1,800. Jeans $6,000. Necklace $100. I frowned. Everything she wore cost thousands or tens of thousands. Only the necklace was suspiciously cheap. For such a carefully chosen outfit, that seemed strange. Miss Quinn, this man wants to meet with the
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chairman. The guard said my father. The young woman looked me over carefully. My name is Olivia Quinn. Tell me why you need Richard. Perhaps I can help.
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Actually, an elderly Mr. Quinn sent me to him. He said your father would help me get a job. An elderly Mr. Quinn?
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Olivia took out her phone, opened a photo, and showed it to me. this man.
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The screen showed the man I had just left the antique shop with. Yes, that's him. Olivia raised her eyebrows in surprise. My grandfather sent you to my father so he would give you a job.
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Interesting. He hasn't interfered in company matters for many years. Why did he suddenly decide to help you? Do you think I made it all up? The thought did cross my mind. So, I'll call my grandfather first. She stepped aside and
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dialed a number. The conversation lasted about 5 minutes. When Olivia returned, there was a slight smile on her face.
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What's your name? Ryan Hayes. So, grandfather was telling the truth. He said, "You have a rare talent for finding valuable things." She crossed her arms. But before I offer you a job, I want to test you myself. All right.
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What do I need to do? In our field, we constantly deal with luxury goods. How well do you understand them? I know the basics, then identify which item I'm wearing is fake. Olivia slowly turned around, letting me examine her clothes
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and accessories. I pretended the task had stumped me. For an ordinary person, it really would have been difficult, but not for me. I had already seen the answer. Keeping a serious expression, I stepped forward and closed the distance
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between us. My gaze stopped on the necklace. When strangers talk, they usually keep a few feet of distance between them. It makes everyone more comfortable. Until then, there had been enough space between Olivia and me. But as soon as I stepped forward, she
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instinctively stepped back. "Why are you coming so close?" she asked irritably. You asked me to identify which item you're wearing is fake. I can't examine the details from that distance. Olivia fell silent. There was logic in my words, but she clearly did not like that
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my gaze had lingered around her neckline. That's enough. You failed the test. I looked at her in surprise. Why?
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You know perfectly well why. Actually, I don't. I haven't even given you my answer yet. I asked you to examine my clothes and accessories, not stare at my chest. I took a deep breath, trying not to lose my temper. The necklace is right
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there. I was looking at it because that is the fake. My necklace. Olivia gave an incredulous laugh. Exactly.
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Then you definitely failed the test, she declared. You may leave. Are you that sure it's real? Of course. It was a gift from my best friend. She brought it from Paris, especially for my birthday. In that case, I advise you to choose your
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friends more carefully. I turned around and headed for the exit. Goodbye. After taking a few steps, I looked back.
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Actually, no. I hope we never see each other again. Olivia was beautiful, but her arrogant tone quickly destroyed my desire to work there. I truly needed money, but after what happened with the vase and the teapot, I already
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understood how useful my ability could be. If necessary, I would find another way to earn money. What an attitude," Olivia muttered as she watched me leave.
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She went up the steps and entered the building. The workday was coming to an end. There were no customers left in the hall, and the appraisers sat calmly behind their counters, waiting for closing time. Olivia's office was on the
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second floor. She was about to go straight up there, but as she passed the jewelry department, she suddenly stopped. Ryan's words would not leave her mind. She removed the necklace and placed it in front of an elderly appraiser. Mr. Wilson, take a look at
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this. The appraiser picked up the necklace, examined the clasp, and held the stones up to a lamp. A few seconds later, he laughed. Miss Quinn, where did you get this cheap fake? Olivia froze.
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What did you say? It's fake and a rather poor one. Cheap metal, artificial stones, and careless workmanship. You couldn't even call it a highquality copy. Olivia stared silently at the necklace for several seconds. So Ryan had been right. She slowly took out her
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phone, found her best friend's number in her contacts, and said through clenched teeth, "Madison, you are going to pay for this." After leaving Empire Pawn and auction, I was in no hurry to return to the dorm. As I passed a convenience
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store, I happened to glance at the rack of scratchoff tickets. Zeros, or very small amounts glowed above most of them, but above one $10 ticket hung a price tag. $50,000.
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I stopped. Does my ability show the amount of the prize in advance? To test it, I bought the ticket and immediately scratched off the protective layer.
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$50,000. I barely stopped myself from shouting right there in the store. After that, I began visiting the nearby kiosks and supermarkets. I did not find a second large prize, but I came across tickets worth 100, $500, and $1,000. I was not
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going to leave them for anyone else. By evening, the smaller prizes had brought me more than another $10,000. I returned home in an excellent mood. I had officially graduated from the university, but I was still living in the dorm. I had been unable to find a
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job in my field, so the administration allowed me to stay until the end of the month. My roommate, Jake Miller, had done the same. According to him, every extra day in the dorm meant one more day without paying rent. In New York, that
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was a strong argument. When I returned, Jake was sitting on the lower bed with his feet in a plastic basin of hot water. "You're late," he said. "So, did you get the job?" "Almost." But then an overly confident woman appeared and
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ruined everything. Jake immediately became interested. A woman? Tell me. There isn't much to tell. She decided she was so irresistible that every man dreamed of hitting on her. Wait, maybe you really did start hitting on her. You and Amy broke up very recently. Has it
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already hit you that hard? Go to hell. I rolled my eyes and placed a package of expensive craft beer on the table. Jake looked at it and whistled. Hayes, did you get rich? I didn't get the job, but
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I bought a few scratch off tickets and won a couple thousand. I decided not to tell him about my ability or the $50,000 ticket. A couple thousand? In surprise, Jake pulled his feet out of the basin and spilled water on the floor. Then why
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are we sitting here? You have to buy me a proper dinner. No problem, but first we should decide where we're going to live next month. Jake immediately became serious. They put up a notice downstairs today. All graduates have to move out by
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the end of the month. He thought for a moment and broke into a smile. Listen, now you're the rich one. I'll put in 1,500 and you cover the rest and the deposit. I'll pay you back later. We'll rent an inexpensive two-bedroom
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apartment. I looked at the number above his head. $2,340. Over the last two days, Jake had spent only $60 on food and the subway, $30 a day. He saved on literally everything.
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Agreed. We just need to choose the neighborhood. My office is in Queens. Housing is cheaper there than in Manhattan. We can look for an apartment nearby. You don't have a permanent job yet anyway, so you can find something
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close later. That makes sense. Look at some options tomorrow. You work in sales, so your schedule is flexible.
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Deal. Jake opened a can of beer and took a satisfied sip. Half an hour later, we left the dorm to find a place for dinner. At that moment, my phone rang.
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The number was unfamiliar. Recruiters had been calling me often lately, so I assumed it was another invitation to an interview. Hello, Ryan Hayes speaking.
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Hello, this is Olivia Quinn. The voice was cold but familiar. Olivia who? Olivia Quinn. Olivia what? Quinn.
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And your first name again? Olivia Quinn. Sorry, the connection is bad. Who? Olivia Quinn. The last words came from both the phone and directly behind me. I turned around. A black SUV was parked by the curb and Olivia stood beside it.
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Another young woman with long wavy hair was next to her. Ryan, Olivia repeated irritably. Oh, Miss Quinn, what an unexpected meeting. I'm surprised you recognized me after all. How could I not recognize you? You stand out so much
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that I would see you even in the middle of Time Square. Olivia softened slightly, though her voice remained cold. Is there a decent restaurant here?
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We'll talk over dinner. She invites someone to dinner as if she's calling him in for questioning. Of course. Where are we going? Olivia chose an expensive restaurant in Midtown. I had only ever seen places like that from the outside.
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Jake and I sat across from the women. Miss Quinn, what did you want to talk about? I asked. Olivia spent several seconds gathering her courage. You were right this afternoon. I smiled.
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The necklace was fake. Yes. The woman beside her grimaced guilty. I really did give it to Olivia, she said, but my boyfriend Jack bought the necklace. He claimed he had brought it from Paris. She removed another piece of
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jewelry from her neck and held it out to me. Can you check this? Jack gave this one to me. Now, I suspect he ordered both fakes from the same place. I looked at the necklace. $400.
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A genuine piece from this brand would have cost at least 15,000. It's a highquality copy, I replied. But it's still fake. I knew it. The woman slapped the table irritably. Damn Jack. I've been telling you for a long time that
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he's a liar, Olivia noted. The woman sighed, then smiled at me again. By the way, I'm Madison Carter, Olivia's best friend. At least until she kills me over that gift. Ryan Hayes. And this is my roommate, Jake Miller. Nice to meet you,
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Jake said, smiling at both women. Madison looked at me. What should I call you, Ryan? Re. When she said re. A shiver ran down my spine. Just Hayes.
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Jake cut in. Madison nodded. All right, Hayes. Olivia said you know a lot about antiques and fakes. Tomorrow we're going to the New York Gem and Jewelry Show. We need someone with a good eye. What do you know about gemstones? Honestly, not
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much. We're not asking you to do it for free. If you help us choose the right stones, you'll get $5,000. I instantly stood up from my chair. I agree. Madison blinked in surprise. That fast.
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5,000 for one day. Of course. Do you need a contract? A non-disclosure agreement? I can sign both right now if necessary, even in blood. Silence fell over the table. Madison stared at me without saying a word. Olivia was also
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speechless. The next morning, a bright pink Mercedes G-Class was waiting for me at the entrance to the dorm. The passenger side window rolled down and Madison waved at me. Good morning, Hayes. Morning.
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Olivia was behind the wheel. I looked at the car again. $240,000. Just looking at it was enough to wipe out my student budget. I had not had time to eat breakfast, but envy instantly killed my appetite. The show
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was not being held in New York, but in Atlantic City, a major gem and jewelry show was opening there today.
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Representatives of famous jewelry companies, private collectors, and wealthy buyers ready to spend millions on rare stones had come to attend.
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During registration, I learned that Madison was the daughter of the owner of Carter Fine Jewelry, one of the best known jewelry chains in the country.
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Olivia, meanwhile, turned out to be the ays of Empire Group, which owned auction houses, pawn shops, and luxury goods companies. Now, it was clear why they were such close friends. Both had grown up in families where one bracelet could
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cost more than my future apartment. We entered the main exhibition hall. There were dozens of booths around us with diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, and rough stones. Some were being sold at fixed prices, while others were going to be put up for a private auction. While I
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was looking around the hall, an attractive man of about 35 in an expensive suit approached us. "Olivia, you're finally here. I've been waiting for you for a long time." "Good morning, Mr. Sterling," she replied in a reserved tone. It was clear from her voice that
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she did not like the man acting so familiar with her. Madison rolled her eyes. "Blake Sterling, do you only see Olivia?" "I'm here, too. How could I not notice you?" he said with a laugh. "You outshine half the show today." "Very
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convincing. I almost believed you." At that moment, Blake noticed me. Next to Olivia and Madison, I really did look out of place. And who is this? While he looked over my clothes, I looked at the numbers above his head. $18,700,000.
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His suit and accessories alone cost more than $100,000. A watch worth $92,000 gleamed on his wrist. If he had earned all of it himself, he truly deserved respect. Our friend Ryan Hayes. Madison introduced me. Ryan, this is Blake
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Sterling, the owner of Sterling Gems. Nice to meet you, I said politely. Likewise. However, after evaluating my clothes, Blake quickly lost interest. I was wearing ordinary jeans, sneakers, and a jacket from the mall. My entire outfit cost less than $200. A hint of
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contempt appeared in his eyes. What do you do, Ryan? I'm currently looking for a permanent job. Just graduated from college. Yes.
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Blake nodded in understanding and gave me a condescending smile. Then come to Sterling Gems. Since you're a friend of Olivia and Madison, I'll find a place for you. Don't worry, I'll pay you well.
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Before I could answer, Olivia said coldly. Ryan isn't here to ask you for a job. Blake looked at her. Then why is he here? Olivia paused briefly. He is a guest expert for Empire Pawn and Auction. a guest expert. Blake fell
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silent for a moment, then looked at me again. Ryan, you know how to surprise people. You've already earned Empire's trust at your age. His gaze turned cold.
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It seemed he had decided that I had deliberately hidden my true position from him. "Since you're an expert, help me with something." Blake raised his wrist. "I bought this watch 2 days ago, and I'm still not sure whether I
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overpaid. Can you appraise it?" He was about to take it off, but I stopped him.
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That's not necessary. The watch is genuine. This market value is about $92,000. If you paid around that amount, the deal was fair. Blake's hand froze. 92,000 approximately. He had actually paid exactly $92,000 for the watch. Madison smiled smugly. Well, was Hayes wrong?
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Impressive, Blake admitted. Although he praised me aloud, the contempt did not completely disappear from his eyes. It seemed my cheap clothes still kept him from taking me seriously. He turned back to Olivia. With an expert like him beside you, you'll definitely find
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something valuable today. We'll see, she replied briefly. Olivia clearly did not want to continue the conversation. Let's go, Hayes. Let's look at the stones," Madison said, pulling me toward the nearest booth. It was one of the largest booths at the show. Several dozen buyers
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had gathered around it. Rough pieces of jade lay on the counters. On the outside, they looked like ordinary rocks. The color, transparency, and quality of the material could only be assessed after cutting them open. Buying a stone like that was a real gamble. One
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cut could turn its owner into a millionaire or leave him with a useless piece of rock. At that moment, a heavy set middle-aged man bought a large stone for almost $30,000. At his request, the sellers immediately took the purchase to
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a special cutting machine. A crowd quickly gathered around it. Blake followed us and looked carefully at the stone. Not a bad choice. A green tint is already visible along one edge. Even if there isn't a solid layer of jade
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inside, he will most likely get his money back. Madison smirked. You talk as if you actually know something about this. I do own a jewelry company. I know a thing or two about stones. My family owns a jewelry company, too. And I can
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barely tell Jade from Green Glass. She said it with such pride that I could not help wondering about the future of Carter Fine Jewelry. Madison turned to me. Hayes, what do you think about this stone? Olivia and Blake also looked at
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me. Its true value glowed above the stone. $500. The man had paid almost $30,000 for it.
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The stone is bad, I replied. The buyer will lose almost all his money. Lose everything? Blake repeated. He gave an incredulous laugh. Green is already visible along the edge. Even if there is only a very small layer inside, the
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stone can still be resold. A total loss is practically impossible. I shrugged. There was no point in arguing. $500 versus $30,000. The result was obvious.
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Madison leaned toward me and asked quietly, "Are you really sure? My eyesight hasn't failed me yet. You make it sound like you have x-ray vision.
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Almost. Madison turned toward the machine with interest. Then let's see who is right. The operator secured the stone and switched on the cutting blade.
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A sharp metallic sound spread through the hall. A few minutes later, the first section came off. There was ordinary gray rock inside. Not the slightest trace of green. The buyer's expression changed. Damn it. Keep cutting. The stone was secured on the machine again.
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The second cut gave the same result. No, Jade. What kind of cursed luck is this?
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The man shouted. Madison grabbed my arm. Hayes, you guessed it. Quiet. Don't draw attention. I smiled modestly, though I was completely calm inside. This was not luck. I had known the result in advance.
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Madison immediately turned to Blake. You said he would definitely get his money back. What do you say now? Blake's expression darkened. Being wrong in front of Olivia was clearly especially unpleasant for him. Even professional appraisers make mistakes sometimes. It's
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part of the business. He pretended the loss had not affected him at all, then looked at me. All right, Ryan. Let's say you were right about someone else's stone. Why don't you choose something for yourself now? The mockery returned
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to his voice. I looked toward the far end of the booth. Actually, I've already chosen. I did not answer Blake right away. Instead, I pointed to one of the rough stones lying directly on the floor beside the booth. How much is that one?
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Blake looked down and sneered contemptuously. You chose a stone from the cheapest pile. That makes sense, I suppose. The seller picked up the piece of rock I had indicated. The stone looked plain. An uneven dark surface, several cracks, and not a single visible
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green area. This one, he clarified. Yes, $7,000. I gazed almost imperceptibly. I still had to officially claim the large scratchoff prize. So, a 5 figure amount was serious money for me. $7,000 could cover a deposit and several months of
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rent. Before I could start bargaining, Madison stepped in. $7,000 for this ugly thing? Are you serious? It looks like someone picked it up beside the highway.
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Lower the price. The seller pretended to think deeply. All right, 5,000, not a scent less. He turned to me. Your girlfriend knows how to bargain. Madison smiled with satisfaction, and I decided not to waste time explaining. I'll take
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it. I paid $5,000. Would you like it cut open here? The seller asked. Yes.
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At that moment, Blake approached us. While we had been bargaining, he had walked around the shelves several times and chosen a large stone with a price tag of $150,000.
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"I'll take this one, too," he told the seller. "Cut mine after Ryan's stone." He deliberately said the price loudly enough for everyone to hear.
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150,000 versus my five. Blake clearly wanted to show the difference between us. He turned to me. What do you think of my choice? I looked at the number above his stone. $800.
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Congratulations. Blake smiled smugly. On a good purchase on losing $149,200. The smile disappeared from his face.
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What? The chance that there is valuable jade inside is almost zero. You're saying I'll lose all my money? Not 100%. About 99. Blake's face turned red. You're too confident for someone who is attending a show like this for the first time. This
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stone has an excellent structure, the right surface color, and several promising areas. The chance of finding top quality jade inside is very high. I barely stopped myself from smiling. $800 versus $150,000.
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I wonder which one of us is overconfident. Olivia and Madison also turned toward the machine. Such an expensive purchase quickly attracted the visitors attention. Several dozen people gathered around. The operator secured Blake's stone on the platform and switched on the cutting blade. Everyone
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fell silent. A few minutes later, the first piece of the stone came off and fell onto the table. Empty.
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Not even a hint of green. Blake's face twitched. Keep cutting. The operator changed the stone's position and made a second cut. The result was the same.
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Ordinary gray rock. The stone was turned and cut a third time when another piece fell onto the platform. Once again, there was nothing inside. He had lost $150,000 in front of Olivia and dozens of jewelry industry professionals. Judging by how
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persistently Blake had tried to impress her, the public failure bothered him even more than the money. "It's only 150,000," he said with forced calm. "It's not such a large amount." His face showed that he was screaming inside. Madison
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immediately smiled. "Of course, only 150,000. That's nothing to the great Blake Sterling, right? Exactly. He forced out.
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Then Blake looked at me. Now, let's test Ryan's stone. Although, if my $150,000 specimen turned out to be empty, there's no point even cutting a $5,000 stone from the cheap pile. I smirked. "What if there's a treasure inside?" "Excellent,"
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Blake said with a cold smirk. Let's see what kind of treasure is hidden inside a $5,000 stone. Most of the spectators were not expecting anything special either. The stone had been bought from the cheapest pile and looked completely
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unpromising on the outside. Madison quietly tugged at my sleeve. You didn't buy it on credit, did you? No, but if there's nothing inside, I'll remember those $5,000 for a long time. Don't worry, you'll definitely win. Why are you so sure? Because I negotiated the
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price down to 5,000. That means the stone has to be valuable. She said it with such confidence as if her bargaining alone had turned an ordinary rock into a precious stone. Ironclad logic, I muttered. Meanwhile, the operator finished the first cut. There
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was ordinary gray rock inside. Not the slightest trace of green. Blake instantly cheered up. I warned you, Ryan. Start thinking about how to earn back the money you spent. They haven't finished cutting the stone yet. In fact, I was a little nervous, too. The first
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cut was empty, but the stone was large enough for several more attempts. You just don't want to admit defeat," Blake said with a smirk. The operator looked at me. "Do we continue?" "Of course." He changed the angle and switched on the
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cutting blade again. After the unsuccessful first cut, the spectators had almost lost interest. No one expected a miracle from a cheap stone taken from the floor. But when the second piece came off, a loud cry swept through the crowd. Green.
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A rich emerald color gleamed on the fresh cut. Olivia froze. Is that imperial green jade? The stone was not merely valuable. One of the rarest and most expensive types of jade was hidden inside. Bright, pure, and almost transparent. Just a minute earlier,
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everyone had considered my purchase useless. Now people were trying to push closer to examine the discovery. Madison gripped my arm tightly. Hayes, you were right again. Blake stood nearby with a stony expression. His $150,000 specimen turned out to be garbage, while my
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$5,000 stone hid a real treasure. Several visitors immediately began offering money, but Olivia stopped them.
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A specialist must fully inspect the stone first. It is not for sale until it has been appraised. Blake forced out a few words of congratulations, then hurriedly left the booth. He clearly did not want to stay nearby and
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watch my success. Olivia waited until he had left, then looked at me seriously. Ryan, are you ready to work for Empire Pawn and auction? Straight to the point.
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What's the salary? $150,000 a year, plus a percentage of successful deals and an annual bonus. She seemed about to add something else, but I had already held out my hand. I agree. When do we sign the contract? Olivia blinked
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in surprise. that fast. You're offering a recent graduate $150,000 in commissions. Why should I pretend I need time to think? A slight smile appeared on her usually stern face.
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Good. Since you now work for Empire, it's time for you to benefit the company. How exactly? You'll find out soon. At that moment, a woman's voice came over the speakers. Dear guests, a private auction of rare gemstones will
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begin in hall D in 1 hour. Those who wish to participate may proceed to the registration desk. Olivia's expression became serious. That auction is why we came here. Seven large roughstones were displayed in hall D. Each one was kept
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in a separate glass case and would be sold as an individual lot. Blake pointed to an elderly man in a black suit.
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Olivia, this is Dr. Dr. Mason, a consultant for Sterling Gems. He has been studying these seven specimens for almost 2 hours. I think we should hear his opinion. All right, she agreed. I see you came prepared today, Blake.
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Daniel Whitmore, the heir to another major jewelry company and a longtime competitor of Sterling Gems, approached us. Do you mind if I listen too? Of course not, Blake replied generously. An expert's opinion is still only an opinion until a stone is cut open. There
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can never be complete certainty. We went up to the platform with the display cases. Blake took Dr. Mason slightly aside. What did you find out? The elderly expert removed his glasses and began wiping them with a soft cloth. Lot
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number five looks best. Number seven is promising, too, but I would focus specifically on number five. That explains why people are constantly crowding around it. The competition will be serious. Number five is the main choice. Number seven is the backup. Dr.
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Mason repeated. Blake put on a smug smile. Olivia Daniel, you heard him. I hope you won't drive the price up too much. Daniel laughed. We both know the size of your bank account. I'm the one who should ask you to show mercy. Olivia
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did not answer. She turned toward me but found that I had already walked over to the case holding lot number four.
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Madison stood nearby. Do you like this stone? Olivia asked as she came closer. I looked at the number above the case.
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$4,300,000. As soon as I entered the hall, I had managed to check all seven lots. The most valuable really was number five.
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$5,400,000. Dr. Mason was not wrong. Almost no one was interested in lot number four. If it could be bought cheaply enough, the profit would be much higher. "Have you chosen anything?" Blake asked as he approached us. "Do you really trust my
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opinion?" "Of course. Tell me." His expression made it clear that he simply wanted to hear another reason to mock me. I tapped the glass of the fourth display case with my finger. This one?
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And how much is it worth paying for? No more than 2,800,000. Then there will be about $1.5 million in profit after resale. 2,800,000.
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Blake almost laughed. Dr. Mason had sent him appraisals of all seven stones in advance. The expert considered lot number four for the weakest. However, Blake did not say this directly. Olivia, I think you should listen to your new
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employee. Ryan has already proved twice that he has an excellent eye. I'm sure the stone won't disappoint either. His overly pleased smile revealed his true intentions. Blake hoped Olivia would follow my advice and lose money. At that moment, the auctioneer entered the hall.
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Ladies and gentlemen, the private auction is beginning. Lot number one will be offered first. The starting price is $280,000.
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The minimum increase is 20,000. The staff rolled the first display case to the center of the stage. 340,000.
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One of the participants called out immediately "360 380 420,000. The price quickly rose to 420,000, after which the hall briefly fell silent. The current bid for the lot is $420,000.
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Are there any more bids?" the auctioneer asked. Olivia leaned toward me. Is it worth bidding? The stone's real value glowed above it. $390,000.
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No, even the current price is already too high. There will be no profit from resale. Olivia nodded and did not raise her paddle. 440,000.
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Blake suddenly offered 460. The previous bidder replied 490,000. Blake raised the price by 30,000 at once. His rival gave up. 490,000 once. Twice. The auctioneer looked around the hall one more time. Three times. Sold to Mr. Sterling. Blake
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raised his hand smugly as he accepted congratulations. I sighed quietly. Another $100,000 had gone into the trash. Blake noticed my reaction. What does that sigh mean? Nothing. I'm simply admiring your ability to choose stones.
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He frowned. After our earlier arguments, the compliment clearly sounded like mockery. After the auction, I'll have the stone cut open right here. Then we'll see which one of us is right.
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Blake trusted Dr. Mason's appraisal. The expert had set the maximum price for the first lot at 490,000, so Blake was sure he would at least not lose money. The auctioneer continued.
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Lot number two will be offered next. The starting price is $420,000. The minimum increase is 20,000. The second stone proved much more popular.
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Within a few minutes, the price rose to $700,000. Olivia asked again, "What do you think?" Above the second lot glowed, "11 $1,200,000.
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You can buy it up to 1,100,000. It's better to stop above that. Olivia immediately joined the bidding. Dot. A few minutes later, the bid reached $1,40,000.
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She raised her paddle. 1,100,000. Olivia's bid of $1,100,000 made the hall fall silent. For most of the participants, that amount already exceeded a reasonable limit. The current bid for the lot is $1,100,000.
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Are there any more bids? the auctioneer asked. Blake visibly tensed. The second lot was also one of the main options recommended by Dr. Mason. But now he had to compete with Olivia. 1,120,000, he finally said, raising his paddle.
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Then he gave her an apologetic look. Sorry, Olivia. I need the stone, too. She shrugged indifferently. We had set the limit at 1,100,000 in advance. She had no intention of bidding any higher. 1,120,000 once. The auctioneer had already raised
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the hammer when Daniel unexpectedly joined the bidding. 1,180,000. Blake frowned. He had considered Daniel one of his main competitors from the start, but until the last moment, he had hoped Daniel would focus on the fifth lot. 1,250,000.
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1,290,000. Daniel replied almost immediately. Madison leaned across Olivia and quietly asked me, "Hayes, is this stone really worth that much?" "No." The lot's real value was about $1,200,000.
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Anything above 1,100,000 erased the profit and added unnecessary risk. "I think they're already going too far, too." Madison turned to Daniel. "If Blake raises his bid again, you'd better stop." Why? He asked. Ryan says the stone isn't worth that much. Daniel
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looked coldly in my direction. My bid is based on appraisals from several professional gemologists. Do you really think a recent graduate knows more than they do? But Hayes hasn't been wrong once today. Madison objected. He was simply lucky. Luck can't last forever.
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At that moment, Blake raised his paddle. 1,320,000 1,400,000 Daniel replied instantly. Madison's warning only fueled his excitement. Now he wanted the stone at any price and to prove that I was wrong. $1,400,000.
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Are there any more bids? The auctioneer announced loudly. The hall remained silent. Even Blake decided to stop. Dr.
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Mason's maximum appraisal was about 1,300,000 and going any higher was too risky. 1,400,000 once twice three times. Sold. Daniel let out a relieved breath. He had reached his own limit and was afraid Blake would keep bidding. They'll cut the stone open
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after the auction, he told Madison confidently. Then you'll see whether you should have listened to Ryan. All right.
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Madison did not argue, but her face showed that she still trusted me more. The auctioneer moved on to the third lot. The starting price is $420,000.
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The third stone was much less popular. When the price reached $630,000, almost no one wanted to continue. Olivia leaned toward me again. Are we bidding?
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I looked at the price tag above the stone. $150,000. The starting price was already almost three times its true value. No, this lot isn't worth even the opening bid.
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Understood. Olivia immediately withdrew from the bidding. In the end, the third stone was sold for $670,000 to a man wearing brown glasses. I looked at the satisfied buyer and wondered whether he would remain calm after the stone was
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cut. We move on to lot number four, the auctioneer announced. The starting price is $420,000.
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The minimum increase is 20,000. The new bidding began $440,000 470 500,000 540. The price rose slowly. Compared with the previous lots, almost no one was interested in the fourth. Blake smirked. It looks like the $4 million stone isn't very popular. The others
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simply don't understand what's inside. Of course, the entire hall is wrong, and you're the only one who sees the truth.
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That happens sometimes. I smiled. By the way, it's not too late to join in. Buy the fourth lot and you'll thank me later. Thank you for the advice, but I'll pass. While we were talking, the price reached $600,000.
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After that, the participants fell silent. 600,000 once, the auctioneer announced. Olivia raised her paddle.
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650,000. Blake shook his head. Olivia, be careful. You shouldn't risk millions because of the words of someone you've known for only one day. Thank you for your concern, she replied coldly without even looking at him. His words bothered
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me more than I expected. The someone she has known for one day is sitting right beside you and can hear you perfectly well. My name is Ryan Hayes. I wasn't talking about you, Blake said irritably.
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I turned to Olivia. Can we stay away from certain people after the auction? We can, Olivia replied. Blake turned sharply toward me. What does that mean?
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I didn't mention any names. He had no answer to that. Meanwhile, the previous bidder raised the bid for the fourth lot. 670,000.
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700. Olivia replied immediately. Her rival gave up. Sold to Miss Quinn for $700,000. Above the stone glowed, $4,300,000.
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The difference was $3,600,000. Blake only shook his head. Dr. Mason appraised the stone at less than 200,000. You threw your money away. I can afford it, Olivia replied coldly.
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This is what happens when you choose a bad expert. I nodded. I agree. You should replace Dr. Mason.
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Blake's expression darkened. Well see what you say after it's cut. The fifth lot, the auction's main stone, was brought onto the stage. above it glowed.
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5,400,000. The bidding quickly passed $2.5 million. 2,800,000. Daniel offered 3 million. Blake interrupted. After several more bids, the price reached 3,300,000.
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Olivia raised her paddle. 3,600,000. 3,750. Daniel replied. 4,200,000. The hall instantly fell silent. Blake refused to continue. Daniel gripped his paddle for several seconds, but he did not dare raise the price either.
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4,200,000 once twice three times. Sold to Miss Quinn. Olivia calmly lowered her paddle. She had paid 4,200,000 for a stone worth 5,400,000.
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The potential profit was another 1,200,000. Madison leaned toward her. Aren't you afraid Ryan was wrong? If he was, I'll send the bill to your Ryan. Why is he mine? You brought him. They both looked at me. Let me remind you that as of
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today, I'm your employee. I said, "Maybe before charging me 4 million, we should discuss the company insurance plan." Madison laughed. Olivia smiled almost imperceptibly. She had paid $4,900,000 for the two stones. Their true value was $9,700,000.
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My first workday could bring Empire Group almost $5 million. All that remained was to cut the stones open.
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4,200,000 is a huge amount of money. Madison noted the stone is worth 5,400,000. Olivia will still make more than a million. We skipped the last two lots.
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Their price tags were far below the final bids. After the auction, the cutting began. Blake Stone was opened first. He had paid $490,000 for it, but there were too many cracks inside. About $390,000, the appraiser announced. Blake had lost
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$100,000. That's only the first stone, he said through clenched teeth when he noticed my gaze. Of course, you still have the sixth. Daniel's lot was cut next. He had bought it for 1,400,000 even though I had advised him to stop
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earlier. The appraisal after cutting was 1,200,000. So, you lost 200,000? Madison asked. I overpaid a little. Daniel replied grimly. Ryan warned you. Daniel remained silent. Finally, the fourth lot was placed on the machine. Olivia had paid 700,000 for it. Even though Dr. Mason
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considered this stone the worst at the auction, the first cut was empty. Ordinary gray mineral. Blake broke into a smile. Is this your $4 million stone?
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Above the remaining part still glowed. $4,300,000. Make another cut, Olivia ordered. The saw entered the stone again. The second cut was gray, too. Madison became nervous. Ryan, are you sure you weren't wrong? The price tag had not changed.
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I'm sure. Blake laughed. Two empty cuts. Maybe it's time to admit defeat. The center hasn't been opened yet. A third cut will completely destroy the stone.
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Olivia looked at the operator. continue. The remaining piece was secured on the machine. The blade slowly reached the very center. Blake was already preparing to celebrate my mistake. Finally, the third section came off. The operator switched off the saw. The hall froze.
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The purple cut flashed on the screen. Lavender jade. The gemologist shouted. Top grade. Olivia jumped to her feet.
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Blake, by contrast, froze. His satisfied smile disappeared. Lavender jade was extremely rare, and this stone had a rich color, high transparency, and almost no cracks. Above it glowed.
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$4,300,000. Olivia had bought it for 700,000. That's impossible, Blake muttered. I turned to him. You asked whether it was worth 2,800,000.
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What do you think now? He remained silent. Someone in the back row cried out desperately. That could have been my stone. It was the man who had stopped bidding at 670,000.
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I was only 30,000 short. Why did I give up? One more bid and he would now own a fortune. Olivia looked at me. Did you know what was inside? I only knew its value. My ability showed the price but
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did not explain exactly what caused it. Meanwhile, the gemologists examined the cut. The preliminary appraisal is more than $4 million. A wave of exclamations swept through the hall. Madison smiled with satisfaction. Ryan was right again.
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He was just lucky, Daniel said grimly. Three times in a row, he did not answer.
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Olivia had paid 700,000 for a stone worth 4,300,000. The potential profit exceeded three and a half million. I looked at Blake again.
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You were right after all. About what? A bad expert really can cost a company a huge amount of money. This time he had nothing to say. The fifth lot was open next. The very first cut revealed a large core of deep green jade. The stone
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turned out to have almost no cracks. No less than $5 million, the gemologist announced. possibly the full 5 and a half above the lot glowed $5,400,000.
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Olivia had bought it for $4,200,000. Another 1,200,000 in potential profit. The participants began talking about her. She got the two best lots. Who is she? Olivia Quinn, the Aerys of Empire group. Now, everyone considered her the main winner of the
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auction. Only Olivia knew whose advice she had followed. As we headed for the exit, a man in a brown suit blocked our path. Miss Quinn, Marcus Grant, executive vice president of Aurelia Jewelers. Ourelia was one of the largest
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jewelry chains in the country. I'll get straight to the point, he continued. Will you sell us the lavender jade? No, Olivia replied immediately. Even for $5,700,000, Madison raised her eyebrows in surprise.
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Olivia had paid only $700,000 for the stone. By selling it now, she would instantly make 5 million, but she refused again. Empire Group has its own jewelry brand. We'll use this material for a new collection. Marcus did not
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give up. I can offer 6 million. It's not about the price. The stone is not for sale. An exclusive collection made from rare jade could bring Empire Group not only money but also enormous publicity.
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Marcus wanted to acquire the stone for that exact reason. Realizing that Olivia would not change her mind, he put away his business card. That's a shame. Over the past year, I've attended more than 20 auctions, and this is the first time
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I've seen lavender jade of this quality. You were incredibly lucky. Olivia glanced sideways at me. It wasn't luck.
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Madison cut in. Ryan chose the stone. Ryan, Marcus repeated. She pointed to me. Ryan Hayes. He advised her to buy both the fourth and fifth lots. Marcus examined me carefully. When he saw a young man in cheap clothes, he frowned.
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He clearly found it difficult to believe that I was the one who had chosen the two best stones at the auction. Marcus, you shouldn't underestimate Hayes, Madison said proudly. He hasn't been wrong once today. She noticed the doubt
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in Marcus's eyes and clearly decided to defend me. Really? He asked with interest. Ryan was the one who chose both of the best stones. Marcus looked at me again. Ryan Hayes, right? That's right. Madison says, "You have an
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exceptionally sharp eye. Have you been studying gemstones and jewelry for a long time? I know the basics, but I don't consider myself an expert." "Hayes, stop being modest," Madison interrupted. "If you're good at something, just say so." Marcus examined
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me carefully. I looked like an ordinary recent graduate in cheap clothes. He clearly found it hard to believe that I was the one who had discovered the stones missed by dozens of professional gemologists. I suggest a small test, he
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said. I frowned slightly. What kind? Marcus removed a wide jade ring from his thumb. Tell me its true value. If you are off by no more than $700, the ring will be yours. People rarely wore such jewelry nowadays, but since Marcus had
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worn it to a major jewelry auction, it definitely wasn't cheap. I smiled in surprise. Will you really give it to me?
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I keep my word. If you appraise the ring correctly, you can take it. He held out the jewelry on his open palm. In fact, the test was already over. When Marcus approached us, I had already appraised everything he was wearing. The most
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expensive item was his watch, which was worth about $58,000. The ring came next. Above it glowed.
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$31,000. All right, I'll try. I took the ring and pretended to examine it carefully. It was carved from a single piece of jadeite. The outside was perfectly smooth without patterns or any distinctive marks. However, an old engraving was visible on the inside.
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master of Leido Hall. When I saw it, I understood why such a simple piece of jewelry was worth more than $30,000. It was not just a jade ring, but an antique with a history. I turned it over in my
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hands for a few more seconds, then returned it to Marcus. This really is a valuable piece. On the current market, it is worth about $31,000.
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What? Marcus suddenly raised his head. $31,000. Before Marcus could answer, Blake gave a contemptuous laugh. Ryan, if you don't understand something, it's better not to name random figures. Even a highquality jade ring costs only a few thousand.
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This appears to be a Chinese piece from the lateqing dynasty. Considering its age, I would value it at no more than $8,000.
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He turned to Marcus. If I were you, I would sell him the ring for 31,000 right now. But Marcus did not smile. He stared at me in shock. Blake noticed his expression and became wary. Wait, did Ryan really guess correctly? Olivia,
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Madison, and Daniel also looked at Marcus. However, he was in no hurry to answer. Mr. Hayes, he said with noticeably more respect. Please explain what your appraisal is based on. I smiled. Blake is right. This ring was made in China during the lateqing
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dynasty. Without a documented history, it would be worth about $8,000. Then, where did the figure of 31,000 come from? Blake asked. I held the ring between my thumb and index finger so everyone could see the engraving on the
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inside. It is all because of these words. Master of Leo Hall. Madison leaned closer. And who is this master?
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That was the name used by Prince Gong Eisenjurro Een, one of the most famous statesmen of the lateqing dynasty. I turned the ring in my hand. If the engraving is authentic, he was the ring's first owner. That kind of
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provenence increases its price several times over. My history degree had finally become truly useful. The name of Prince Gong was well known to anyone who had studied 19th century China. Marcus smiled broadly and gave me a thumbs up.
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Excellent, Mr. Hayes. You not only named the exact price, but also identified the ring's origin. He held it out to me again. We had an agreement. It is yours now. I shook my head. I can't accept it.
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Marcus was surprised. Why? It is clear that you like the ring. Taking someone's favorite possession just because I won a small bet would be wrong. $31,000 could solve most of my current problems. But Marcus had honestly honored the terms
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and had not even tried to break his promise. It was more useful to gain a man like that as an ally than to take away something precious to him. I didn't expect that, Marcus admitted. You have surprised me twice today. He put the
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ring back on. Since you refuse the gift, consider me in your debt. If you ever need my help, just call me. Perhaps one day I will take you up on that offer.
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Blake still looked doubtful. Is that ring really worth 31,000? That is exactly what I paid for it.
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Marcus confirmed. I bought it at an auction in Singapore a month ago. Its first owner really was Prince Gong. He looked at me. Ryan was right about both its origin and its price. Blake fell silent. Until then, he had considered me
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an ordinary poor graduate who had simply been lucky a few times. Now he had to look at me differently. The exhibition was a true triumph for Olivia. Empire Group obtained green jadeite worth $5,400,000 and an extremely rare lavender stone
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valued at another $4,300,000. Before coming to Atlantic City, she could not have hoped for such a successful result. On the way back to New York, even her usually cold face showed a slight smile. I had just as many reasons to be happy. After the
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appraisal, a private collector bought the imperial green jadeite I had found. The money had already reached my account, and there was now a little over $300,000 in it. Just a few days earlier, I had less than $2,000. I opened my
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banking app several times and even called customer service to make sure the balance was real. Hayes, what are you thinking about? Madison asked from the front passenger seat. You look so pleased. As if you're already choosing a yacht. I'm thinking about what to spend
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the money I earned on. Spending money is easy. She looked at me through the rearview mirror. Do you own an apartment in New York? No. Then buy one. Real estate here will keep rising in value.
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It is practically a guaranteed investment. I imagined Manhattan prices and gave a rice smile. With my money, how much do you have? A little over $300,000.
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Madison frowned. That's all. I earned that all today. Then you still can't buy an apartment. At most, you could make a down payment on something small in Queens. She thought for a moment and added, "The smallest property my family
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owns is about 6,000 square ft. Even that is worth more than 20 million. Madison turned toward me and delivered her final verdict. Hayes, you are terribly poor. I looked at her in silence. Just a minute earlier, I had thought I had suddenly
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become rich. Now, it turned out that in Madison's eyes, I was still somewhere close to being homeless. "All right," I sighed. By your standards, I really am poor. The bright pink Mercedes Olivia was driving alone. had a price tag of
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$240,000, almost my entire fortune. It really is important to choose the right family to be born into. While ordinary people spent years saving for a down payment on an apartment, Olivia and Madison had been born at a level most people would
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never reach in their entire lives. After returning to New York, Olivia drove straight to Empire Pawn and Auction. She stopped the Mercedes near the main entrance. I got out of the back seat and immediately noticed a familiar security
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guard. It was Mark who had been on duty there yesterday. The first he politely greeted Olivia. Then he saw me and froze. Yesterday Mark had personally watched her throw me out. Today I had arrived with her in the same car. You?
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He began but could not think of what to ask. I smiled in a friendly way. Mark, right? It looks like we are colleagues now. I'm Ryan Hayes. He looked at Olivia in confusion. Miss Quinn. Ryan is telling the truth, she confirmed.
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Starting today, he works as a senior appraiser at Empire Pawn and Auction. Olivia then pointed to the guard. Ryan, this is Mark. He has worked for the company for many years. It is good to meet you officially, I said. I hope
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you'll let me inside from now on. Mark gave an awkward smile. I'm sorry about yesterday. I was only doing my job. No hard feelings, but a senior appraiser.
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Mark still could not believe it. You are very young. Age has nothing to do with it. Madison interrupted. In half a day, Hayes helped Olivia earn almost $5 million. Mark's eyes widened. 5 million?
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Exactly. Madison confirmed with satisfaction. and this is only his first day at work. Mark looked at me as if he were trying to understand whether this was a joke or a financial magician was really standing in front of him. I
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patted him on the shoulder. Don't worry, I'm not completely used to it myself. However, no one stopped to explain what was happening to Mark. Olivia was already climbing the steps and I followed her. I'll tell you about all of
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Hayes's heroic deeds sometime. Madison promised the guard before hurrying after us. Less than an hour remained before closing. The employees had relaxed. Some were looking at their phones while others were almost falling asleep behind the counter. But the moment Olivia
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entered, everyone immediately became alert. Good evening, Miss Quinn. How did the exhibition go? It's good to see you.
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Olivia gave only a brief nod and walked over to the jewelry department counter. The elderly appraiser who had examined Madison's fake necklace yesterday was sitting behind it. Mr. Wilson, this is Ryan Hayes, our new senior appraiser.
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Show him his workplace. Introduce him to the employees and explain his main duties. Senior appraiser. Wilson's hand stopped as he was wiping the lenses of his glasses. He had worked in this field for more than 30 years and was one of
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the branch's two senior appraisers. I, on the other hand, looked like a young man who should have been hired as an intern at most. Olivia pointed to him.
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"Ryan, Mr. Wilson is the most experienced appraiser at our branch." "It's nice to meet you," I said politely. "I hope you'll help me settle in." "Of course," Wilson forced a smile, but his face made it clear that he was
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not happy about my appointment. He had spent decades earning this position. I had received it on my first day at work.
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As soon as Olivia walked away, Wilson's expression changed sharply. He took out a small carved seal made of red stone and handed it to me. Mr. Hayes, I hope you will occasionally put in a good word for me with Miss Quinn. This is a small
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welcome gift. I looked at the object in surprise. Above it glowed. $14,000. This is a Chinese seal made of rare blood stone, Wilson explained. The quality is not perfect, but it is still worth at least 14,000. My eyebrows rose.
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The old man had only just met me and was already offering a gift worth as much as a new car. I was about to answer when my phone rang. The screen showed, "Mom, excuse me. I need to answer this." I
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walked over to the window and took the call. Ryan, how is the job search going?
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Mom asked immediately. For the past few weeks, my parents had called almost every day. They knew that I had been unable to find a decent job after graduation, and they were just as worried as I was. I usually avoided
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giving them a direct answer. Today, there was nothing to hide. I already found one. I work for Empire Group. My salary is $150,000 a year. Silence hung on the other end of the line. A few seconds later, I heard
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mom mutter to someone nearby. It seems the job search has finally given him a nervous breakdown. Mom, I can hear you.
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Ryan, don't put so much pressure on yourself, she continued carefully. You don't have to find the perfect job in your field right away. You can start at a museum, a library, or even try something else. I closed my eyes
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helplessly. When I did not have a job, my parents worried. When I found one with a salary that was too high, they decided I had lost my mind. Still, I could understand them. An offer of $150,000 for a recent graduate really
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did sound unbelievable. All right, I was joking about the salary. I'll earn around 60,000. Really? Mom's voice changed immediately. Did you truly find a job? Yes. Today was already my first day. Thank God. That's wonderful news.
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She let out a relieved breath, then added. By the way, this weekend we're having a family dinner to celebrate Emma's admission. If you can take time off, come to Ohio. If you have too much work, that's all right. My younger
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sister, Emma, had recently received her acceptance letter from New York University. That meant we had both studied at the same place. I had already graduated while she was only beginning.
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All right, I'll try to come. After ending the call, I put my phone away. It turned out mom had not called to check on my progress at all. She had simply wanted to remind me about Emma's celebration. The next day, I returned to
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Empire Pawn and auction. Olivia had not arrived yet. This branch was only one of Empire Group's businesses and the first one Richard Quinn had placed under his daughter's independent management. He believed that working with antiques, jewelry, and luxury goods would help her
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develop attention to detail and learn to make risky decisions. However, Olivia was also involved in a major project to acquire another company, so she was often away from the branch. I was almost 20 minutes late. Mr. Wilson, I'm sorry.
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Traffic in Manhattan is terrible. Yesterday, Olivia had assigned him to introduce me to the company's work. So, I saw him as my direct mentor. To my surprise, Wilson greeted me very warmly.
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It's all right. New York without traffic wouldn't be New York. He opened the door behind the counter. Come in. There hasn't been a single customer this morning anyway. We can consider you on time. I froze in confusion. This was my
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first full day at work and I was genuinely worried about being late. But judging by Wilson's reaction, no one here considered 20 minutes a serious problem. It seems discipline at Empire is not perfect. I stepped behind the counter. What do I need to do? Nothing
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for now. There is no work without customers. We did not have time to continue the conversation. The front door opened and a middle-aged man walked in. He looked tense and was carrying a long wooden case. Wilson immediately straightened, put on his glasses, and
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assumed the serious appearance of an experienced specialist. Good morning, sir. How can we help you? The man approached the first counter and carefully placed the case in front of us. I have an old item. I want to leave
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it as collateral and borrow some money. Show me. The customer took out a small key, opened the lock, and slowly raised the lid. Inside was an elegant porcelain vase. Wilson put on white gloves and carefully removed the vase from the
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case. He appraised most of the old items brought into the branch. The market was full of high-quality fakes, and an employee without enough experience could easily make a mistake. Wilson was considered a well-rounded specialist, but porcelain was his strongest field.
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He examined the vase's shape, painting, glaze, and the mark on its base. A few minutes later, he returned it to the case. "How much money do you want?" "1 $15,000," the man replied. "This vase has been in our family for many years. I would never
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have brought it here if my wife had not ended up in the hospital. As soon as I have the money, I will definitely buy it back." Wilson shook his head. Then I advise you to take the vase home. The
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man immediately became nervous. Are you saying it isn't worth $15,000? Wilson held up an open hand. $5,000?
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The customer asked unhappily. That is too little. $700? Wilson clarified. 700? The man's face turned red. In fact, the vase was a highquality Chinese reproduction from the first half of the 20th century. It looked beautiful, but it was not a
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genuine antique. Could be sold on the open market for about $1,500. Therefore, the pawn shop's offer was quite reasonable. I looked at the price tag above the vase. $1,300.
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Wilson had appraised it almost perfectly. You're just trying to take advantage of my situation, the man exclaimed. He slammed the case shut and locked it. I'm not leaving anything with you. I was told that Empire Pawn and Auction was the most honest company in
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the city. It turns out you're no better than the others. The man grabbed the case and headed for the exit. Until then, I had silently watched Wilson work, but now I unexpectedly stopped him. Sir, wait. The customer turned
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around irritably. What else? I smiled. I think we can still discuss your vase. The man stopped. Wilson frowned. He was certain that we were looking at an ordinary reproduction and did not understand why I was calling the unhappy
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customer back. I stepped out from behind the counter and took two cups of coffee from the machine. I handed one to the man. Let's talk calmly. He looked at me suspiciously but accepted the coffee.
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Are you allowed to make decisions like this? I am. I pointed to my badge. Ryan Hayes, senior appraiser. The man looked at the words again. He did not know the company's internal hierarchy, but he had just seen the same title on Wilson's
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badge. Let's go to the negotiation room, I suggested. No one will disturb us there. All right. The man picked up the wooden case and followed me. Wilson watched us with displeasure. He had decided that I had received a high
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position because I knew Olivia and would quietly collect my salary without interfering with the work of experienced employees. However, on my very first day, I began to challenge his decision.
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What's going on with the new guy? asked an appraiser named Peter Collins as he approached. Wilson shook his head. He's pretending to know more than everyone else. I hoped he would simply sit quietly behind the counter. But now I'll
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have to make sure he doesn't approve an unprofitable deal. He stepped out from behind the counter and headed toward the negotiation room. Meanwhile, I was already speaking with the customer. His name was Victor Warren. He was born in
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New York and claimed that his family had been quite wealthy in the early 20th century. Later, the family business collapsed. The relatives divided the remaining property and each branch of the family began living independently.
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By his father's generation, almost nothing remained of their former fortune. The family ran a small bar in Queens and lived rather modestly.
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According to Victor, the porcelain vase had been passed down from generation to generation. "I always considered it our family's most important heirloom," he explained. If my wife had not been hospitalized, I would never have brought it to a pawn shop. Her treatment had
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already wiped out their savings. Victor had also taken out several loans and was now desperately looking for money. As he spoke, I watched his face carefully. The man seemed to be telling the truth. But something else was more important. When
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Victor entered the building, a number appeared above his head. $260,000. For a New York resident, that was a fairly modest net worth. "Do you own your home?" I asked. "A small apartment in Queens. I received it after our old
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family home was demolished." Victor sighed heavily. "I have already put it up for sale, but it is a co-op with restrictions on transferring ownership, so finding a buyer is difficult. I'm being offered around 220,000.
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Now everything fit together. The apartment was worth about $220,000. After subtracting his debts, Victor had about $120,000 left. Another 140,000 was right in front of me, just not in the vase. It was in the wooden case. Wilson had correctly determined that the
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porcelain was worth almost nothing. But the box, which he had not even bothered to appraise, was the real treasure.
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Above the vase glowed, $1,300. Above the case, $140,000. At that moment, the negotiation room door opened. Wilson entered with two glasses of water and placed them in front of us. I didn't want to disturb you. I understood that the water was
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only an excuse. In reality, he had come to keep an eye on me. Thank you, Mr.
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Wilson. He pulled over a chair and sat beside us. Were you able to agree on anything? We are just discussing the terms. I turned to Victor. Do you want a standard pawn loan with the right to reclaim the item or are you prepared to
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sell it permanently? A standard pawn loan allowed the owner to reclaim the item after repaying the loan and interest. A permanent sale meant that the item immediately became the property of Empire Pawn and auction could no longer be bought back, so the offered
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amount was usually higher. Victor sighed heavily and stroked the wooden case. I'd rather sell it permanently. I'm unlikely to have enough money to get it back.
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This item has been in the family for several generations. I never thought that history would end with me. You asked for $15,000 as a pawn loan, correct? I clarified. Victor thought for a moment. It seemed he had decided that
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a young appraiser would be easier to persuade. I wanted 15,000 for a temporary pawn loan. If I sell it permanently, then I want at least 22,000. Wilson could not hold back.
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22,000? Do you really think this reproduction is that valuable? He turned to me and discreetly shook his head.
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Ryan, I think the customer should try somewhere else. I did not answer. I simply looked at Victor in silence.
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After a few seconds, the man became visibly nervous. Why are you looking at me like that? It is a family heirloom.
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22,000 is a fair price. In fact, he did not believe the vase was worth that much either. He had simply decided to see how much he could get from an inexperienced employee. I took a sip of water. 12,000.
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That is my final offer. 12,000. Victor and Wilson exclaimed at the same time. to Wilson. I had just offered 12,000 for a vase worth,300.
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Victor, meanwhile, was trying to show his outrage because he had named a price almost twice as high. "That is too little," he said. "I can't give away a family heirloom for 12,000. If you agree, leave the case on the table. The
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money will reach your account in 10 minutes." Wilson signaled to me several times with his eyes. "Ryan, let's step outside for a minute. We need to discuss something. I only raised my hand slightly, showing that I had everything
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under control. Wilson finally lost his patience. He stood abruptly and left the negotiation room, intending to contact Olivia at once. In his opinion, only she could stop an unprofitable deal. When the door closed, Victor felt more confident. I won't sell it for 12,000.
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Then you can try somewhere else. I did not try to stop him. Victor froze. He had expected the threat of leaving to make me raise my offer, but I remained calmly seated. 17,000, he said after a pause. And not a dollar less. I remained
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silent. The answer was obvious. Fine. If you don't want to buy it, then don't.
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Victor grabbed the case and headed for the door. I calmly spoke behind him. Mr.
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Wilson went to call management. You already know his appraisal. If Olivia gets involved, you won't even be offered 12,000. Victor stopped. In fact, Empire Pawn and auction was far from the first place he had visited. Before this, the
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man had gone to several antique shops. The highest offer he had received for the vase was $1,500.
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He had hoped that a large pawn shop would make a mistake and pay much more.
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However, Wilson had immediately recognized the reproduction. I was his last hope. Are you sure you have the authority to approve the deal? Victor asked. Of course, and the money will arrive immediately. Within 10 minutes, he tightened his grip on the handle of
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the case, hesitated for a few seconds, and then let out a heavy breath. All right, 12,000. I'll sell it. I stood up.
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Agreed. Leave the item on the table and we'll go complete the paperwork. All right. Victor placed the wooden case on the table and walked out with me. He was certain that he had sold a cheap vase for far more than its true value. He had
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no idea that he had left a wooden case worth $140,000 in the negotiation room. I took a standard permanent sale contract from the administrator. Before handing it to Victor, I carefully changed the description of the item. porcelain vase
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together with wooden case. The case was my real target. The vase was only bait that distracted everyone's attention.
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Check the contract. If everything is satisfactory, sign it and provide your bank details. All right. Victor quickly looked through the document. When he saw the agreed amount of $12,000, he signed immediately. He did not even notice the line about the wooden case. He was
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afraid I might change my mind. Other places had offered him no more than 1,500, so 12,000 seemed like incredible luck. With the signed contract, we went upstairs to the finance department on the second floor. Empire Pawn and Auction was part of Empire Group and the
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branch's financial reports were sent to the head office at the end of each month. Only one accountant worked here permanently, Sophie Bennett. She was sitting at her computer and looking at something on her phone. When Sophie saw us, she immediately put it away and made
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a serious face. Who are you here to see? She had never seen me before. So, the appearance of two unfamiliar men in the finance department made her wary. I'm Ryan Hayes, the new senior appraiser. I showed her my badge and handed her the
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contract. I just purchased an item. We need to transfer the money to the seller. Ryan Hayes. Sophie quietly repeated my name and then looked at me carefully. A rumor had already spread around the office that Olivia had brought her new boyfriend into the
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company and immediately appointed him as a senior appraiser. It seemed Sophie had decided that the man in question was standing right in front of her. Her expression immediately became friendlier. Oh, I see. Have a seat. I'll process everything quickly. Thank you.
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It's my job. She opened the contract, then smiled. By the way, my name is Sophie. I'm a little older than you, so you can just call me by my first name.
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All right, Sophie. Good. She looked at the amount stated in the contract. $12,000. Then she looked at Victor. Are you Victor Warren? Yes. Did you sign the contract voluntarily? Are you satisfied with the amount and the terms?
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Completely satisfied. then I'll transfer the money now. Sophie opened the banking system. She had no reason to stop the deal. A senior appraiser had the right to approve purchases for that amount independently. Besides, she was sure I was dating Olivia. That made her even
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less willing to ask unnecessary questions. Less than a minute later, Victor's phone chimed. He checked the message from his bank. $12,000 had reached his account. I received the money, he said with relief. Excellent.
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The deal is complete. I took the contract. Thank you, Sophie. We'll be going anytime. Victor received the money and left the building. I hurried back to the negotiation room. Now, I wanted to take a close look at my first official
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purchase. More precisely, not the vase, the wooden case worth $140,000. Victor left the building almost at a run. It seemed he was afraid the employees would come to their senses and demand the money back. I watched him leave and headed toward the negotiation
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room, but I ran into Mr. Wilson near Olivia's office. Olivia was standing beside him. Ryan, where is the customer?
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Mr. Wilson asked wearily. He already left. We completed the deal. His face fell. Was the money transferred to? Of course. Damn it. Mr. Wilson slapped his thigh in frustration. Now I understood why he had gone to the second floor. He
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had brought Olivia to stop me, but he was a little too late. And how much did you pay for the vase? He asked. $12,000.
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$12,000? Mr. Wilson shook his head. We lost money. A lot of money. It isn't that bad. I reassured him. Yes, it is a Chinese reproduction from the beginning of the last century, but the workmanship is quite decent. He looked at me as if
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he doubted I could even tell porcelain from plastic. Even the best reproduction was not worth 12,000. Besides, this vase was far from the best. Olivia had remained silent until now. Earlier, she had told Mr. Wilson directly that I
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could choose and purchase any items within my authority. That was why she had not wanted to interfere at first.
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But now even her calm began to crack. "Do you really think this vase is worth 12,000?" she asked. "No," I answered honestly.
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Mr. Wilson nearly choked with outrage. "Then why did you buy it?" Olivia frowned as well. Ryan explained. I smiled. "Because the vase was not what interested me." "Then what was the wooden case?" Mr. Wilson thought for a moment, then shook his head. It is an
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ordinary box. There is nothing special about it. Judging by his tone, he had already decided that I was simply trying to justify a bad purchase. But interest appeared in Olivia's eyes. Show us the case. Of course. I turned and headed
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toward the stairs. Olivia and Mr. Wilson hurried after me. It seemed it was time to find out why an ordinaryl looking wooden box was worth $140,000.
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In the negotiation room, I took the vase out of the case and placed it on the table. Now we could calmly examine the real purchase. At first glance, the case looked completely ordinary. The wood was covered with traces of dark red paint
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that had turned almost black with age. It had worn away in many places, but it was still impossible to see the material's original color. Judging by the paint and construction, the case had been made no earlier than the end of the
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19th century. However, an ordinary wooden box of that age could not possibly be worth $140,000.
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That meant the material was the key. Ryan, let me take a look. Mr. Wilson and Olivia entered the room. I immediately handed the case to him. He knew far more about antique wooden objects than I did.
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Mr. Wilson examined the walls, bottom, and corner joints. Nothing special. It looks like ordinary popppler, although the weight really is strange. Olivia walked over to me. Have you figured out the secret yet? Not yet. Then why did you decide to buy it? I smiled
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awkwardly. Intuition. Intuition. She frowned slightly. Buying antiques based only on a six cents was not the most sensible strategy. But after all the money I had already earned for the company, Olivia had clearly decided to forgive me for one possible mistake. Mr.
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Wilson placed the case on the table. An ordinary old box. It has almost no antique value. I scratched my head.
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Nothing unusual at all. Only the weight. It is too heavy for popppler. I picked up the case again. It really did weigh noticeably more than it should have.
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Could there be a hidden compartment inside? Curiosity appeared in Olivia's eyes. However, Mr. Wilson immediately shook his head. I checked. The walls are solid. There are no hollow spaces. My first guess failed. I thought for a moment and suddenly remembered the
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antique teapot, whose genuine marks had been deliberately hidden by its previous owner beneath a thick layer of patina.
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What if this case was also hiding its true appearance? I tapped the walls and then asked, "Could this box simply be covered with another kind of wood?" Mr.
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Wilson froze. An outer shell over the real case. Exactly. His eyes lit up. That is possible. Let me look again. He took out a magnifying glass and began carefully examining the inner corners. A few minutes later, Mr. Wilson found an
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almost invisible gap between the bottom and a sidewall. Paint had hidden it before, but the coating had flaked away over time, revealing a thin seam. Ryan, you were right. There really is an extra layer on the outside. I smiled
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involuntarily. What now? We remove it. Mr. Wilson brought a set of tools and carefully began separating the outer panels. They had been attached with old plant-based glue and had almost fused with the inner surface over the decades. But Mr.
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Wilson's experience did its job. The cheap popppler shell gradually disappeared. Beneath it appeared a completely different wood, dense golden brown with a fine wavy grain. Mr. Wilson froze, then carefully lifted the uncovered case. We hit the jackpot. He
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examined the wood again, no longer hiding his excitement. What is it? Olivia asked. Wongwalli, Chinese rosewood. And the case itself was most likely made near the end of theQing dynasty. Even I knew how highly genuine Wongwali was valued. Objects made from
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it had long been collectors items. Mr. Wilson ran his fingers over the smooth surface. Excellent condition, fine workmanship. A case like this is worth at least $140,000.
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Olivia looked at me. Your intuition is remarkably accurate. I proudly straightened my shoulders. As you can see, women are not the only ones with a sixth sense. Mr. Wilson laughed. If your intuition keeps being this accurate, you'll become a millionaire soon. What
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millionaire? I replied innocently. I am only serving the company faithfully. Judging by Olivia's expression, my sudden display of loyalty did not convince her at all. The news spread through the pawn shop in a matter of minutes. The new appraiser had paid
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$12,000 for a cheap vase, but had accidentally received with it a Wong Wall-E case worth $140,000.
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The employees who had recently considered me Olivia's useless protege now did not know what to think. Soon, she called me to the second floor. As soon as I left, the other appraisers gathered around Mr. Wilson. So, what really happened? Peter Collins asked.
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Did Ryan really recognize the case himself? He bought something worth 140,000 for 12,000. It sounds too unbelievable. Maybe we were wrong and he was not appointed senior appraiser because of his connections. He was just lucky. Anyone can hit the jackpot once.
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Mr. Wilson continued examining the case without hurry. Ryan said he trusted his intuition. Intuition?
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Seriously, if intuition were enough for this job, we would all have been out of work long ago. Mr. Wilson raised a hand to stop them. Do not be so quick to laugh. An experienced appraiser really does develop a special instinct.
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Sometimes you look at an object and immediately understand that it is unusual, even though you cannot yet explain why. He ran his fingers over the wood grain again. I think Ryan has an excellent eye. That sounds too mystical,
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Peter objected. Do you want to find out how good he is? Let us test him. The others looked at him with interest. With what? Peter pointed to the workstation of a young appraiser named Ethan Brooks.
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A few days earlier, Ethan had made a mistake while examining an expensive necklace. After that, he hung the jewelry near his desk so it would constantly remind him of his mistake. We will show Ryan this necklace. If he is
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truly talented, he will immediately understand what is wrong with it. Ethan frowned slightly. He did not like that his mistake was being discussed again, but the others had already supported the idea. There was no point in arguing.
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Meanwhile, I was sitting on the sofa in Olivia's office, calmly drinking coffee. She watched me from behind her desk.
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"Tell me, how did you understand that Wong Walle was hidden under the popppler wood? I already told you intuition." Olivia rolled her eyes. "Who do you take me for?" "I cannot give you any other answer. It really was intuition." I
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shrugged. The case was inside another case. How could I have known the truth in advance? I would have needed X-ray vision for that. Olivia silently looked at me for several seconds. I kept a completely innocent expression on my
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face. After all, I was not planning to tell her about the numbers that appeared before my eyes yet. "Then explain where this intuition came from," she insisted.
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I took a sip of coffee and quickly came up with a believable answer. At university, I read books about micro expressions. When Victor told the story of his family, he looked sincere. His gaze, voice, and gestures matched. So, I
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decided that he was not lying. Olivia listened carefully. If his ancestors really belonged to a wealthy family, they should have kept at least one valuable object. But the vase turned out to be an ordinary replica and definitely could not have been a family heirloom. I
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put the cup on the table. Then I thought that during the unrest his ancestors might have hidden the real valuable object to protect it. At first I assumed there was a hidden compartment inside the case. That is why I decided to take
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the risk. Did you also notice the double shell in advance? No, that part was chance. My explanation sounded logical enough. Olivia nodded thoughtfully. Did you really study micro expressions? A little on my own. I looked at her and
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added confidently. For example, right now your face shows doubt. Olivia raised her eyebrows in surprise. I could barely hold back a smile. She had just spent several minutes questioning me because she doubted my words. No knowledge of psychology was needed to reach that
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conclusion. Sometimes being smarter than those around you felt damn good. All right, Olivia finally said, "It seems I really was not wrong when I hired you.
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Does that mean I get a bonus? I just earned the company more than $100,000." "Yes, you will receive it with your salary at the end of the month." I rubbed my palms together with satisfaction. "Excellent." After finishing my coffee, I got up from the
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sofa. If there is nothing else, I will get back to work. Wait. Olivia stopped me. Are you free this weekend? I became wary. Do not tell me you want to make me work. Of course not. Empire Group does
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not call employees in on weekends without a good reason. Then I am still busy. Olivia had clearly expected a different answer. This weekend, my family is holding a celebration for my younger sister's admission. I need to go home. You have a sister? Yes. Emma is
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four years younger than me. She starts studying at New York University in the fall. I could not hide my pride and she always studied better than I did. She was admitted to a popular international business program. Emma and I were both
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admitted to New York University, but that was where the similarity ended. My school grades had barely been enough for admission. I chose history only because there were still open places in the program. Emma, however, was admitted because of her own results to one of the
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most sought-after international business programs. I see, Olivia said. And where do your parents live? In Milbrook, Pennsylvania. It is a small town, nothing like New York. Milbrook. Olivia frowned slightly. Is Milbrook Chemical located there? Yes. I did not expect you
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to know about it. I smiled. My father has worked at their plant for almost his whole life. Olivia said nothing.
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Milbrook Chemical, she repeated quietly. I did not attach any importance to it. All right, take care of your business. I will go back downstairs. Olivia did not stop me. After the deal with the case, I was in an excellent mood. I went down to
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the main hall without hurry. Ryan, come here. Peter Collins called. He waved to me with such a mysterious look that it seemed he was about to reveal a state secret. Peter, Ethan Brooks, and several other appraisers were standing by the
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counter. An elegant necklace lay in front of them. "What happened?" I asked. "You know a lot about expensive jewelry.
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Take a look at it. What makes you think I know a lot about it? Do not be modest.
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You just turned $12,000 into 140,000." Ethan nodded as well. Come on, Ryan. Tell us what you think. I looked at the people who had gathered. Then at the necklace, it did not take a whole team of appraisers to examine one piece of
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jewelry. They had clearly decided to test me. "What did the owner want?" I asked. "A $3,000 loan," Ethan answered.
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"Do you think it is worth that much?" I picked up the necklace and pretended to study the clasp, stones, and engraving carefully. It is worth. Several people smiled almost imperceptibly. From their faces, I understood that they had already decided the case had been
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ordinary luck. I paused and finished. 3,000 Mexican pesos. The smiles disappeared at once. "Pesos?" Peter asked again. "So, it is fake?" Ethan asked cautiously. I raised the necklace toward the light. Honestly, the workmanship is excellent. The craftsman made a real effort, and an ordinary
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buyer could easily mistake it for the original. I put the jewelry back on the counter, but a fake remains a fake. Its real price is about $170.
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For several seconds, it became quiet around us. I had given an exact appraisal. Ethan was the first to recover. Yes, I also decided that it was a highquality replica. That means we cannot accept it. The others hurried to
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support him. It was obvious right away that something was wrong with it. It looks like we all came to the same conclusion. Peter gave me a thumbs up.
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Excellent eye, Ryan. This time they could no longer explain everything as luck or intuition. Whistling, I returned to the first counter. Mr. Wilson was still examining the Wongwali case.
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Antique objects made from this wood were rare, so he did not want to miss the chance to look at the find more closely.
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"Ryan, you really found a treasure," he said. "At a good auction, the price could easily exceed $140,000." He carefully turned the case over.
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Recently, a pair of small Wongwali containers for ghost stone sold for more than 15,000 and one of them had a long crack. Your case is larger and has survived in almost perfect condition. If an interested collector appears, the
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price could rise even higher. Then I really was lucky. Mr. Wilson grinned. Stop being modest. Luck alone cannot help you find something like this.
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Besides, you just passed the test with the necklace. I only shrugged. I wanted to keep my abilities secret. But on my very first day of work, I had attracted the attention of the whole pawn shop.
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There was nothing I could do about it. Sometimes talent was simply impossible to hide. Closer to the end of the shift, I received a message from Olivia. Do not leave after work. There is something we need to do. I immediately tensed. Will I
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have to work overtime? The answer appeared almost at once. No, then. All right. At exactly 5, the employees began to leave. Mr. Wilson stretched and looked at me. Ryan, are you not leaving?
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A little later. Are you waiting for Olivia? I raised my head in surprise. How had he guessed? You could say that.
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An understanding smile appeared on Mr. Wilson's face. He gave me a thumbs up, took his briefcase, and headed for the exit. See you tomorrow, Ryan. See you tomorrow. The other employees also suddenly began saying goodbye to me.
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Have a good evening. See you tomorrow, Ryan. That morning, most of them had barely paid any attention to me. Now, they had suddenly become suspiciously friendly. Were newcomers always welcomed this warmly here? Once I was alone, I opened a housing rental app. I needed to
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find an apartment as soon as possible. The university had already required me to leave the dormatory after graduation and I could not delay for long. I was looking through listings when the sound of heels came from above. Olivia came
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down the stairs. Let us go. I put away my phone. Where? You will find out soon.
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She clearly had no intention of explaining anything. All right. We left the pawn shop. Two SUVs stood beside each other in the parking lot. My black Mercedes G-Class and Olivia's pink G-Class. From the outside, they looked like a matching pair. She opened the
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driver's door and said to me, "Follow me." Olivia got into her car and I took the driver's seat of the black G-Class.
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We drove out of the parking lot one after the other. The two almost identical SUVs, one black and one pink, drew the attention of passers by. From the outside, they really did look like the cars of a wealthy couple. I will not
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lie, I liked the attention from those around us. Olivia drove slowly. However, during the evening rush hour on the streets of New York, it was impossible to speed up anyway. About 20 minutes later, she stopped near the Empire
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Gardens residential complex. Judging by the name, it belonged to Empire Group. We entered the building and went up to the 22nd floor. There were only two apartments on the landing. Olivia walked up to the door marked 2201 and placed
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her finger on the electronic lock. A short signal sounded. The door opened. She went inside while I remained standing in the hallway. Olivia, what are you planning? I am warning you now.
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I am not the kind of man you can lure into an apartment so easily. She rolled her eyes. Do not flatter yourself. If you do not come in, I will close the door. All right. If she did have some
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secret intentions, I certainly did not feel like the injured party. My gaze involuntarily moved over her slender figure, and I nodded inwardly. No, I definitely did not. At dinner, your roommate said that you needed to find an apartment. Olivia said, "If everything
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suits you, you can live here for now." "What? Only then did I look around carefully." Before me was a huge apartment of more than 2,000 square ft.
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The kitchen alone was almost as large as our dorm room. The spacious living room faced panoramic windows. Thanks to the high floor, they offered a magnificent view of the city. The apartment is excellent, but in an area like this,
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rent would cost at least $7,000 a month. I had money now, but even to me, that seemed wasteful. You do not need to pay, Olivia said calmly. Consider it company housing. I slowly turned toward her.
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Company housing? The apartment had four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a separate walk-in closet. Only the ays of a multi-billion dollar corporation could call a place like this housing for an employee. In 2 days, you have brought the company a significant profit, Olivia
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explained. Empire Group rewards people for results. This apartment is part of your bonus. I walked through the rooms.
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Although less than 5 minutes had passed, I could already imagine living here. It would simply be rude to refuse, especially since I liked the apartment very much. Thank you, boss. The way you care for your employees is simply
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incredible. Olivia waved a hand indifferently. Just keep working well. I certainly will. I looked around the spacious living room again. There is too much space here for one person. Can my dorm roommate move in with me? The apartment is yours to use now. Invite
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anyone you want. She paused briefly. As long as you do not do anything illegal here. I am a model citizen. Olivia clearly did not believe me, but she did not argue. You do not have to come to work tomorrow. Take care of the move. It
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is Friday anyway, so after that you can go straight to your family in Milbrook.
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I looked at her with emotion. This was what an ideal manager looked like. She had not only provided me with an apartment, but had also thought about the move herself and given me an extra day off. Olivia's face remained cold and
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unapproachable, but her actions said something entirely different. First, an expensive car. Now, a luxurious apartment and a day off. She was doing a suspicious amount for an ordinary employee. Olivia, tell me honestly. She looked at me. Are you trying to seduce
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me? Get out. Understood? I awkwardly looked away. A few seconds later, Olivia unexpectedly asked, "Will the celebration for your sister's admission be on Saturday or Sunday?" "Sunday. Did you prepare a gift for her?" "Of course.
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I bought a new iPhone Pro. Emma will be delighted." "I see." Olivia fell silent again. I became wary. Why are you asking? I may also have to come to Milbrook this weekend. Empire Group is preparing an important project there. So
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her interest in Milbrook Chemical had not been accidental. If our plans match, I will stop by the celebration," she continued. "No problem. I will be glad to see you." I smiled. Sunday at noon, the Milbrook Grand Hotel. Olivia helped
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me add my fingerprint to the locks memory, after which I returned to the university dormatory. As soon as I entered the room, my roommate, Jake Miller, rushed toward me and grabbed me by the shoulders. Ryan, finally, "Why are you clinging to me? We look like a
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couple right now." I shook off his hands. "I am just glad to see you," Jake replied excitedly. "Remember you asked me to look for an apartment. Today, I found the perfect option." "What kind?
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Two bedrooms and a living room. only $1,200 a month. At that price, you cannot even rent a storage room in New York. And where did you dig it up? Jake smiled smugly. Today, while I was working, I saw an elderly woman on the street. She
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fell and the passers by simply walked past her. I helped her up and took her to the hospital. Brave, were you not afraid that they would later accuse you of making her fall? I was afraid at first. Then I remembered that I have no
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money or property. Even if they sue me, there is nothing they can take from me.
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That is also true. But everything ended well. The woman's relatives came to the hospital and thanked me for a long time.
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During the conversation, they found out that I was looking for housing and an apartment of theirs had just become vacant. As thanks, they agreed to rent it to me almost at cost. Jake grinned with satisfaction. The building is old,
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but the inside has been renovated. We can move in as soon as tomorrow. So, good deeds really are rewarded. Exactly.
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If everything suits you, we will move this weekend. This weekend will not work. I am going to see my family. I took off my jacket and continued, but I also wanted to talk about housing. The company provided me with a company
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apartment. It is large and it will feel empty with only me there. If the trip to work does not scare you, you can move in with me. Jake blinked in confusion. A company apartment. Where? In Empire Gardens in Midtown East. Are you
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serious? That is one of the most expensive areas in the city. He looked at me in disbelief. Will your boss allow an outsider to live there? I already asked. She does not mind. Wait, Jake carefully asked. Since it is a company
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apartment, we do not have to pay for it. Not a scent. Really? Really? Then I am moving in. He made the decision instantly. Now that is what it means to be rewarded for a good deed. I thought the apartment for 1,200 was a gift from
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fate. Now I will live in Midtown for free. Jake nodded thoughtfully. It is settled. From now on, I will help every elderly person who falls. I laughed. I am planning to move tomorrow. If you are coming with me, start packing. Tomorrow,
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do you not have to work? Olivia gave me the day off. Damn. Then I will ask for a day off, too. He immediately called his manager. The next morning, we carried our things out of the dormatory and loaded them into my G-Class. There was
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not much luggage, clothes, several boxes, books, and bedding. Everything fit easily in the car. When we finished, we smoked beside the vehicle. For years earlier, we had entered this building for the first time as almost complete strangers. Now, it was time to leave. I
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felt a little sad, too, but it was harder for Jake. He had grown up in foster families and had never had a real home. During our years of study, our cramped room had become the only permanent place in his life, and I had
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become the person closest to him. Jake silently looked at the window of our former room. His eyes gradually turned red. Ryan, what? Do you think we will ever come back here? Of course, we are not leaving New York. Right. He took a
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deep drag. I hate goodbyes. At least we are leaving together. If you had left me here alone, I definitely would have burst into tears. Enough drama. I put out my cigarette and patted him on the shoulder. Everything ends someday, but
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every ending is the beginning of something new. Let us go. I got behind the wheel. Jake looked at the window of our room one last time and took the passenger seat. A few seconds later, the G-Class left the university grounds. It
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took us about 40 minutes to reach Empire Gardens. We had to leave the car near the main entrance because vehicles were not allowed inside the complex grounds.
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As soon as I turned off the engine, Jake stared at the high-rise buildings surrounded by greenery. Ryan, your company gave you a place here? Yes. This complex is insanely expensive. I cannot argue with that. Jake rubbed his palms
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together. I never thought I would be able to live in a place like this.
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First, carry the things there. I opened the trunk, put the rolled up bedding over my shoulder, and picked up two bags. Jake carried just as much. When we approached the gates, a security guard blocked our way. Where are you going? We
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are moving in. He looked suspiciously at our bags. Which building and apartment number? Yesterday, Olivia had given me an electronic access card. I showed it to the guard and gave him the address.
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Building 2, apartment 2201. His expression changed at once. Welcome, Mr. Hayes. He provided us with two luggage carts and even offered to help with the move. We refused because we did not have that many things. "Now that is service,"
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Jake said admiringly as he pushed the cart. Now I understand what rich people pay so much money for. I like it too. On the outside I tried to remain calm, but inside I was no less excited than he
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was. It was the first time I was going to live in a place like this. We entered the building, loaded our things into the elevator, and went up to the 22nd floor.
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When the apartment door opened, Jake froze on the threshold. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. For several seconds, he simply stared silently at the spacious living room and panoramic windows. Ryan, what are you absolutely sure we were allowed to live here for
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free? Otherwise, how would I have opened the door? But this is not normal. He walked into the living room and began looking around. This place is more than 2,000 square ft. About that, I pointed toward the hallway. I am taking the main
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bedroom. It has a private bathroom. There are three rooms left. Choose anyone. Then I will look at everything first. Jake immediately went to inspect the apartment. I carried my things into the main bedroom. I had chosen it yesterday. The windows faced south and
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the private bathroom would save us from fighting over the shower in the morning. A few minutes later, Jake's voice came from the other end of the apartment.
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Ryan, I am taking the north bedroom. It seemed we had settled on our new home.
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After unpacking our things, Jake and I went to buy everything we needed for the apartment. He filled an entire cart with pots, pans, plates, and kitchen utensils, saying that he would cook at home now. I could only boil pasta or
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heat up prepared food. Jake, however, claimed that he could cook anything. As a teenager, he had lived in a group home for several years and often helped in the kitchen. I listened to him with doubt. In four years of living together,
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he had never once mentioned any cooking skills. By noon, we had finished setting up the apartment. Leaving Jake to sort out the purchases, I went to the shopping mall. I rarely returned home, so I decided to prepare gifts, not only
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for Emma, but also for my parents. I bought my mother a gold necklace. She had dreamed of one for a long time, but had always been unwilling to spend money on herself. For my father, I chose a good business suit. He held a minor
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management position at the plant and occasionally took part in official events. Then I added several baskets of fruit and vitamins. When I could no longer fit the bags in my hands, I finally left the shopping mall. The drive to Milbrook usually took about 2
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hours. I turned on some music and drove onto the highway. In the past, I could never have imagined that one day I would return home behind the wheel of a black G-Class with a trunk full of gifts.
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Traffic was light, so after only an hour and a half, I entered the town.
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Milbrook's main landmark was the Milbrook Chemical Company. It was once thanks to its enormous plant that the small settlement had turned into a full industrial town. In its best years, almost a third of the residents were connected to the company, either
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directly or through contractors. My parents lived not far from the plant in an old residential complex built for its employees. Most of the neighbors also worked at Milbrook Chemical or had already retired from there. A group of middle-aged women stood near the
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entrance to our building. They were talking in the shade of the trees, but the appearance of the Mercedes immediately drew their attention. That must be a very expensive car. Just look at the emblem. I wonder who has such
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rich relatives visiting them. It looks like a young man is driving. They could not see me through the tinted windows, but I recognized every one of them perfectly. We had been neighbors for more than 10 years. I parked and got out
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of the vehicle. The women fell silent at once. "My God, that is Ryan," Mrs.
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Harper exclaimed first. "Ryan, did you get rich? How much does a car like that cost?" They surrounded me and continued asking questions. Hello, Mrs. Harper.
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Mrs. Dawson, it is good to see you. I opened the trunk and began taking out the gifts. There were too many bags. Let me help. Mrs. Harper immediately offered. She lived across from us and had long been trying to introduce me to
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her daughter, Lily. Lily was 2 years younger than me and studied at one of New York's colleges. Mrs. Harper had discussed a possible marriage with my parents several times, and my mother had once even carefully suggested that I ask
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the girl on a date. I refused, not because I did not like Lily. At the time, I simply had no proper job, no money, and no desire to begin a serious relationship. Now, Mrs. Harper had seen me beside an expensive vehicle, and had
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clearly decided to return to her old idea. Thank you. I can manage on my own.
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Do not be silly. You do not have enough hands. She took two bags of fruit from me and headed toward the entrance. You really did not have to. We have been neighbors for so many years. There is no
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need for ceremony. Mrs. Dawson's mocking voice came from the bench. You are already acting as if Ryan were your son-in-law. Mrs. Harper turned around.
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And why not? Maybe he and Lily will still end up together. I pretended that I had heard nothing and quickened my pace. On the way upstairs, Mrs. Harper continued her questioning. Did you buy the car yourself? No, the company
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provided it. What company gives its employees cars like that? Empire Group? Her eyes opened wide in surprise. The same Empire Group? Yes, that huge corporation. And how much do they pay you there? I had no intention of telling
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the truth. Even if I gave her my real income, she would not have believed me anyway. About $7,000 a month. $7,000?
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Although I had greatly reduced the amount, Mrs. Harper was still shocked. Ryan, you have done very well for yourself. I only smiled. Now, she had surely decided that she had to marry her daughter to me at any cost. We went up
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to the third floor. My family lived in apartment 301 and Mrs. Harper lived across from us. Thank you for the help.
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I knocked on the door. You are thanking me again. We are almost relatives. A voice came from the apartment. Who is it, Emma? It is me, Ryan. The door opened at once. A slim, fair-skinned girl stood on the threshold. When she
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saw me, she smiled broadly. You were already here. I thought you would not come until tomorrow. I was given the day off today, so I decided not to wait. I entered the apartment. Ryan, stop by our place this evening. Mrs. Harper reminded
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me as she handed me the bags. All right. I closed the door. Her footsteps could be heard in the hallway for several more seconds. Apparently, she was already planning to call Lily and demand that she come home urgently. I put the
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purchases on the coffee table and sank tiredly onto the sofa, carrying all of it up to the third floor. Had been harder than I expected. Here, have some water. Emma brought me a glass and looked curiously at the mountain of
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bags. Why did you buy so much? Did you get rich? Imagine that. Then your beloved younger sister should get a gift, too. Wait a second. I took the box with the new iPhone Pro out of my backpack and handed it to her. Emma
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looked at the gift in disbelief. Are you serious? Then she noticed the model name and her eyes widened. Ryan, did you rob a bank? Before the start of her studies, mom had promised to buy her a new phone,
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but had set a limit of $400. The device I had brought cost almost three times as much. Emma could only look at it in stores and had never even dreamed of receiving such a gift. Of course, I replied calmly. I robbed a bank
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especially for you. The best brother in the world. She immediately tore off the plastic film and opened the box. It is real. Did you think I would give you a dummy? Emma carefully took out the phone, not hiding her delight. I looked
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at the clock. It was a little after 4. When will our parents return? Mom at about 5. Dad closer to 6:00. Then we will have dinner at a restaurant tonight. I am paying. Great. I want steak. Agreed. Is Oak and Ember still
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considered the best place? Emma stopped looking at the phone and gave me a suspicious look. Oak and Ember was the most expensive steakhouse in Milbrook.
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Brother, you smell like someone who suddenly got too much money. You have figured me out. I leaned back on the sofa and laughed. All right, I admit it.
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Your brother really did get rich. Then I will take advantage of your wealth, too.
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Emma held out her palm. Your beloved younger sister should get some spending money. At least $300.
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No problem. I picked up my phone and immediately transferred the money to her. Emma had only been joking, so when she saw the notification, she froze in confusion. Did you really send me $300?
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Of course, Ryan, you really did get rich. I smiled smugly. Exactly. So, stay close to your older brother. You will not regret it. You said it yourself.
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Emma immediately accepted the transfer. I looked at the clock. Does mom take the bus to work? How else would she get there? We do not have a car. Get changed. We will go meet her. How will we go? I took out the key and twirled it
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in front of her. By car? Do you really think your rich brother came by bus?
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Emma noticed the Mercedes emblem. Is that a real key? She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Or a lighter shaped like a key fob. They sell those online. A lighter? I indignantly tossed her the key. Check it yourself. Emma examined it
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carefully and pressed several buttons. There is no flame because it is a car key. I still do not believe you. Then get changed and you will see. She disappeared into her room and returned a few minutes later in a light colored
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dress with a small floral pattern. Emma had recently turned 18. She was slim and fair-skinned, and even with very little makeup, she looked very attractive. Not bad, I said approvingly. It is immediately obvious that you are my sister. Actually, I am naturally
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beautiful. All right. All right. I sighed heavily. It is almost a shame that some idiot will take you away from the family one day. Ryan. Emma looked at me angrily. When you decide to date someone, you will show him to me first.
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I need to make sure he is normal. She rolled her eyes. From her face, it was clear that my sudden strict father mode did not impress her at all. We went down to the courtyard. Until the very last
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moment, Emma was sure that I was playing a joke on her, but when she saw the black G-Class parked near the building, she stopped dead. She had grown up in an ordinary family and had never connected luxury cars with her own life,
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especially since there were almost no cars like this in Milbrook. "Get in," I called. Why are you standing there? Just a moment. Emma slowly took the passenger seat and carefully examined the interior. Ryan, tell me honestly, you did not get involved in anything
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illegal, did you? She was asking completely seriously. What makes you think that the fastest ways to get rich are usually listed in the criminal code?
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You only just graduated from university, but you have already arrived in a car like this, given me an expensive phone, and started handing out money. Emma looked at me anxiously. I am just afraid that you did something stupid. Calm
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down. I earned everything honestly. I started the engine. Mom worked as a social studies teacher at Milbrook Elementary School. Her workload was light, so she usually returned home before dad. The school was about 10 bus stops away by car. We got there in less
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than 20 minutes and arrived before classes ended. Soon the bell rang. First, the children ran out of the building and then the teachers began to come out. Emma was the first to notice mom. There she is. Laura Hayes was
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walking toward the gates with a colleague and talking animatedly about something. We got out of the car. Mom.
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She recognized my voice at once and looked around in surprise. When she saw us, mom smiled and quickened her pace.
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Ryan, Emma, what are you doing here? She came closer. Why did you come today? You could have warned me. I would have cooked something delicious. Mom, Ryan got rich, Emma announced. Today he is taking us to an expensive restaurant.
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What wealth are you talking about? Mom lightly tapped her on the shoulder. Then turn to me. Let us go to the store. We will buy groceries and I will cook your favorite dishes. Emma is not joking.
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Dinner is on me today. I pointed to the G-Class. Get in. I will tell you everything on the way. Mom followed my hand with her eyes and froze. Ryan, where did you get a car like that? The company provided it. What company gives
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cars like that to graduates? Has your manager lost her mind? Sometimes I think so, too. Emma and I persuaded her to get into the car. Once in the back seat, mom looked around the leather interior with curiosity. How much does it cost with
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this equipment package? About $180,000. How much? Mom turned pale. The principal of our school also drives a Mercedes, but his car costs about 50,000. My boss has a lot of money. Her cars are even more expensive. Her pink G-Class alone
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was custommade and she also has a Ferrari. Mom spent several seconds processing what she had heard. You said you got a job at Empire Group. Yes. Now I understand why this company is considered one of the largest in the
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country. She put a hand on my shoulder and added seriously. Ryan, you have received a rare opportunity. Be sure to work honestly and do not let down the people who trusted you. Do not worry, Mom. I can handle it. I was silent for a
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moment, then added proudly. By the way, on my very first day, I earned the company more than $100,000.
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That is why they provided me with a car and an apartment. I wanted to share my success with my family. But there was another reason as well. If I admitted at once how much I had really earned over
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the last few days, my parents would decide that I had become involved in something illegal. I needed to prepare them gradually for my sudden wealth.
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More than 100,000 in one day, Emma asked in surprise. How did you manage that?
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Thanks to talent, your brother has the eye of a true expert. You are bragging again. Then listen. On the way home, I told them about the vase and the Wongwali case hidden under the cheap wood. Of course, I did not mention the
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numbers I saw above objects. You bought everything for 12,000 and the case turned out to be worth more than 140?
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Emma asked again. Exactly. You were incredibly lucky. It was not luck, but a reward for years of hard work. Emma rolled her eyes. And how much did the company pay you? This was the exact question I had been waiting for. They
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gave me a bonus of $70,000 for successful deals. The car became quiet. How much? Mom asked again. $70,000.
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Now I understand why you call yourself rich. Emma breathed. That is quite a bonus. Took mom some time to recover.
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Ryan, do not spend this money thoughtlessly. Save it for a home of your own. Apartments in New York cost a fortune. I only just graduated and I am not planning to buy an apartment yet.
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Besides, the company housing suits me completely. I looked at her through the mirror. I would rather buy you and dad a reliable car and the rest can go toward the down payment on a new house. You do not need to buy us anything. Mom
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objected firmly. We live perfectly well here. It is your money. Then just keep it for me. I do not know how to save anyway. The important thing was to give the money to my parents. Later, they could decide for themselves what to do
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with it. If mom refuses, transfer it to me. Emma suggested. I will save it. You Mom looked at her. There would be nothing left of the money after a month.
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That is so unfair. Mom thought about it, but finally gave in. All right, I will keep it for you. When you decide to buy a home or get married, you will get it all back. Agreed. The first step had
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been taken. I would reveal the rest of the money to them later. When they became used to my new position. After returning home, I took out mom's gift.
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After the conversation about the bonus, the gold necklace no longer had such a shocking effect on her. However, she could not hide her smile. Let me help you put it on. I stood behind her and fastened the necklace. Mom looked at her
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reflection and her eyes filled with tears. All these years, she had saved money on herself for Emma and me. Even buying ordinary clothes became a serious decision for her. She had dreamed of gold jewelry for a long time, but had
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never allowed herself to spend so much money. Now her wish had been fulfilled by the son she had raised for more than 20 years. You really have grown up," Mom said quietly. "You and Dad used to take care of me. Now it is my turn." I led
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her closer to the mirror. "So, what do you think? Do I have good taste?" Mom smiled through her tears. "It is very beautiful." At around 7:00 in the evening, my father, Michael Hayes, returned home. He rode an old electric
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bicycle to work, so we did not go to pick him up. When he saw me, Dad smiled broadly. Ryan, why did you come today? I was given the day off. You could have warned us. Mom would have cooked
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something special. He took off his light jacket. Dirty splashes were visible on the sleeve and back. Damn drivers, Dad grumbled. They see a puddle and still rush through it at full speed. If I had a car, I would catch up with that idiot
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and tell him everything I think of him. He threw the jacket into the washing machine and continued. By the way, did you see the black G-Class near the entrance? I wonder who has such rich guests visiting them. Dad wiped his
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hands and shook his head. That car costs about 180,000. But only plant workers live in our building. Where would relatives like that come from? Mom, Emma, and I exchanged looks. If only I could sit behind the wheel of a car like
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that just once, Dad added dreamily. After that, I would not mind dying. Mom could not hold back and laughed. Emma giggled too. What is so funny? Dad frowned. Ask your son. Mom answered. Dad turned toward me. Emma did not delay.
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Ryan arrived in that Mercedes. What? Dad silently looked at me for several seconds. Son, is it really yours? Yes. I smiled. I wanted to let you drive it, but you just said you would be ready to die afterward, and I expect you to live
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at least another 50 years. Do not talk nonsense. It was just an expression. Dad looked at me again. Where did you get a car like that? Technically, it belongs to Empire Group. The company provided it to me for work. I took out the key.
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Dad's face lit up. That is my son. He immediately reached for the key. Give it to me. I have to test it. We were just planning to have dinner at a restaurant.
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You will drive today. Excellent idea. We will go to the other end of town. Our home was in the southern part of Milbrook. So, Dad chose a restaurant in the north. It was obvious that he simply wanted to spend as much time behind the
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wheel as possible. The whole family went down to the courtyard. The neighbors had already come out for their evening walk and began greeting us. Michael, where are you going? Ryan is back. Have you already graduated from university? I see
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the whole family is in an excellent mood. We answered their greetings and then approached the G-Class under their astonished gazes. Dad proudly took the driver's seat. For several minutes, he examined the dashboard, screen, and leather interior. Now, this is a car. It
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cannot be compared with the old Fords in the plant's fleet. I laughed. You are probably the first person who decided to compare a G-Class with a company Ford.
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That is also true. The wheels alone cost as much as that Ford. Dad continued looking for something near the center console, then asked awkwardly, "How do you start it? And where is the gear selector?" I showed him the start button
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and explained the basic controls. He carefully repeated everything. The engine came to life. Dad smiled with satisfaction, moved the selector into drive, and carefully pressed the accelerator. Under the neighbors gazes, the black G-Class drove out of the courtyard. What a view, and the seats
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are so comfortable. No wonder this car costs so much. Dad drove the G-Class with delight and could not stop praising it. Son, is your boss a man or a woman?
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Why did the company give you such an expensive car? Mom and Emma also looked at me with interest. A woman?
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Ryan, is some rich woman keeping you? Emma asked with a grin. Don't talk nonsense. How old is she? Mom asked.
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Around 24 or 25. That young? She's the ays to the Empire group and will take over the family corporation in the future. Dad laughed. So, you're the same age? If she set her sights on you, I won't object. Neither will I. Emma
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agreed. Bring home a rich beauty. Stop trying to set us up. There's nothing between us. At Dad's insistence, we drove all the way across Milbrook and stopped outside Oak and Ember. We were shown to the second floor and seated by
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a window. Order whatever you want. I'm paying today. Dad and Emma immediately picked up the menus. Don't make Ryan spend too much. Mom warned them. It's fine. Consider this an early celebration of Emma's college admission. The food arrived soon afterward. Dad enjoyed
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drinking, but he did not touch any alcohol today because he wanted to drive the G-Class back himself. During dinner, a balding man in his 50s approached our table. I recognized Martin Caldwell, the director of the Milbrook Chemical Plant.
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Mr. Called well. What a surprise. Dad immediately stood up. The director's face was red and his eyes were unfocused. He had clearly drunk a lot.
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Family dinner. Ryan came home. Dad explained. Then come with me. You can have a few drinks. Dad hesitated. He did not want a drink, but he was afraid of damaging his relationship with his boss.
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All right, I'll join you in a moment. Caldwell looked at Mom. Have your wife come, too. Laura doesn't drink. Dad quickly replied. I'll keep you company myself. The director's expression darkened. Can't you show me a little respect? She really doesn't drink. She's
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allergic to alcohol. Caldwell ignored him and addressed Mom. Laura, just one glass. I'm sorry, but I don't drink, she replied coldly. The smile disappeared from his face. I'm not asking you to entertain the guests. What's wrong with having a couple of drinks with me? Your
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children are already grown. Crash. I grabbed a bottle of soda and smashed it against the edge of the table. A jagged piece of glass remained in my hand. Get lost. Caldwell stepped back. I stood up and pointed the broken bottle at him.
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Want me to say it again? The other diners began turning toward us. Caldwell sobered up quickly. You little bastard.
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I'll deal with your father tomorrow. He glared viciously at Michael and walked away. I placed the broken bottle on the table. Ryan, that was too impulsive, Dad said with a frown. Caldwell is very vindictive. Now I'm going to have
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problems at the plant. Then quit if you have to. We can't let him talk to mom that way. Ryan is right," Emma said in support of me. He was clearly looking at mom with disgusting intentions. Dad let out a heavy sigh. Caldwell had run the
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plant for 8 years and had a lot of influence in Milbrook. "That's enough," Mom said. "We were finished anyway.
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Let's go home." Dad nodded. "It was a good evening. It's a shame that bastard ruined it." After dinner, Dad got behind the wheel of the G-Class again, but this time he drove in silence. He thought about Caldwell the entire way home. I
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could afford to act impulsively, but Dad had worked at the plant for many years and understood the consequences. He was only the supervisor of a small shift and could not openly clash with the director. His only option seemed to be
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buying a gift and apologizing in person. Dad hoped Caldwell would stop being angry after that. I had no intention of worrying about a drunken bastard. When we got home, I took a shower and fell asleep almost immediately. I did not
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wake up until 9 in the morning. It was Saturday. The celebration of Emma's college admission was scheduled for the next day. But some of our relatives planned to arrive today. Mom and dad had been preparing for their visit since
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morning. I did not like noisy family gatherings, so after breakfast, I asked Emma to come with me. Where are we going? She asked as she got into the car to buy clothes. A future college student needs a proper wardrobe. Really?
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Of course. I took her to Milbrook Plaza, the most expensive shopping mall in the city. When we parked, Emma suddenly pointed at a black Toyota Camry nearby.
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Ryan, look. A man and a woman were sitting in the back seat. I recognized the man immediately. It was Martin Caldwell. An attractive woman of about 35 sat next to him. They were hugging and kissing. Emma, record them on your
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phone. She immediately turned on the camera and zoomed in. A few minutes later, the woman got out of the car and headed for the elevator. Caldwell remained inside. "Why didn't they go together?" Emma asked. "Because he's a well-known man. If anyone sees him with
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his mistress, rumors will start. So, he's going to wait for her here. Looks like it. Did you manage to get a full body shot of the woman? Yes. From the car all the way to the elevator. I smiled. Now, we had a way to protect
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Dad. Are we still going to buy clothes? Emma asked cautiously. We are, but first well wait. For the next hour, we watched the Camry. When the woman returned with shopping bags, Caldwell happily greeted her, took her purchases, and escorted her to the car. She wrapped
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herself around his arm and pressed her whole body against him. Emma recorded everything. Caldwell then got behind the wheel while the woman took the passenger seat. The Camry left the parking lot. I started the G-Class and followed them.
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"Ryan, what about the clothes?" Emma asked unhappily. "We'll buy them later. We don't get a chance to corner Caldwell like this every day. I kept a safe distance. Half an hour later, the Camry entered the new Sienna Gardens
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residential complex and stopped outside the third building. Caldwell picked up the bags. The woman clung to his arm again and they entered the second entrance together. "Excellent," I said.
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"Now we know the address, too." Caldwell did not notice us following him. The black G-Class was the perfect cover. No one expected the owner of such an expensive car to follow someone. Emma reviewed the photos. I don't understand
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what she sees in him. Money and status. I'll never become that kind of woman.
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Don't even think about it. If you ever get involved with a married old man, you're done for. Emma frowned.
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Why are you coming at me? I haven't done anything like that. I'm just warning you. She rolled her eyes and then smiled. Can we go back for the clothes now? Yes, let's go. I kept my promise. I bought Emma several new outfits and then
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we went to the movies. We did not return home until evening. By then, our relatives had already gathered at the house. Both of mom's sisters had arrived with their husbands for Emma's college admission celebration the next day. As
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soon as I sat down, Aunt Linda began questioning me. Ryan, is it true that you were offered $100,000 a year? It is.
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Where do you work? At Empire Group. That's a serious company, she said with an approving nod. Although your cousin Ethan works for an international corporation, he makes almost 400,000 a year now. Of course, he started much more modestly. She pretended to praise
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me, but she was really bragging about her son. Ethan has always been talented, I replied calmly. When I gave her no reason to argue, Aunt Linda changed the subject. Do you have a girlfriend? No.
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Then I'll introduce you to someone. Our neighbor's daughter Sophie. She's beautiful, your age, and she also works in New York. I'm not looking for a relationship right now. No one is forcing you to get married. Just talk to
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her. Dad unexpectedly took her side. At her, you have nothing to lose from a conversation. There was no point in arguing with the entire family. Aunt Linda sent me Sophie's contact information and made sure I sent her a
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friend request immediately. Some of our relatives left that evening, but Aunt Linda and her husband stayed the night.
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Uncle Tom took my bed and began snoring almost immediately. I had to take a blanket and move to the couch. Before I went to sleep, I received a message from Olivia. I'm already in Milbrook. I have a meeting in the morning, and after
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that, I'll come to Emma's celebration. I was surprised. Olivia had said before that she would try to come, but I had assumed she was only being polite.
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"Well be happy to welcome the boss," I replied. Another message appeared a minute later. "Madison is coming, too. How did she find out? We got talking and I mentioned the celebration. Then we'll be expecting both of you. Olivia did not reply again.
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I was about to put my phone away when Sophie accepted my request. Hi, I'm Sophie. Hi, Ryan. She immediately began asking questions. Do you work in New York? Yes, at Empire Group. How much do you make? That's important to me because
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I want to stay in the city around a h 100,000 a year. Are you planning to buy a place someday? That'll be difficult on that salary. Will your parents help? No, they don't have any extra money. And my
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sister is just starting college. After a short pause, her reply arrived. I see. Good night. Good night. I looked at the screen and smirked. My first blind date had ended before it even began. Mom woke me on the couch in the morning. Why did
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you sleep here? Ask Uncle Tom. He doesn't snore. He causes earthquakes. An exhausted Emma came out of the room.
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What kept you up? I asked. Did Aunt Linda give you a lecture on how to live your life properly? Until 2:00 in the morning, she told me how to marry well.
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Then we both suffered. By 9:00, everyone had gathered and we drove to the Milbrook Grand where the celebration was being held. Aunt Linda froze when she saw the black G-Class. Ryan, is that your car? It's a company car. That's
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what I thought. Even with his salary, Ethan hasn't bought a car yet. He's saving for an apartment in New York. She could not resist mentioning her son again. We reached the hotel in two cars.
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On the way, Aunt Linda asked again. How did your conversation with Sophie go? Fine. It was late, so we barely talked.
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I had no intention of telling her that Sophie had lost interest in me the moment we discussed money. The celebration was scheduled to begin at 11:30. We arrived early and began decorating the hall. I was helping the staff set up a large blue and gold arch
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at the entrance when I heard a familiar voice behind me. Ryan already hard at work. I turned around. Our neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Harper, had arrived at the hotel. Their daughter, Lily, was with them. Mr. Harper had worked with my
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father at Milbrook Chemical for many years. Lily and I had grown up next door to each other and knew each other well.
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When did you get back? I asked. Yesterday. I stopped by your house, but no one was home. Emma and I were at the mall. You could have invited me. I would have helped her choose clothes better than you did. Lily studied in New York
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and worked part-time as a teacher at a test preparation center. I had not expected her to take time off for the celebration. I heard you got a job at Empire Group, she continued. And you're making a h 100,000 a year right away. I
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just got lucky. I pointed at the arch. Step back a little and tell me if it's straight. Lily took several steps back.
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It's straight now. Great. Let's go inside. We entered the hall together. Mom was arranging sweets and small gifts for the guests on the tables. Mrs.
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Harper was helping her. When she saw us, she smiled. Laura, look how good they look together. I paid no attention to her words, but Aunt Linda immediately intervened. Don't make plans. I've already introduced Ryan to a nice girl.
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An introduction doesn't mean anything yet. Mrs. Harper objected. Ryan and Lily grew up together. If they want to become a couple, neither Laura nor I will object. Right. Mom clearly did not want to take part in this argument. Let the
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children decide for themselves, she replied. I'll support whatever Ryan chooses. Mrs. Harper gave Aunt Linda a triumphant look. hear that? All that matters is whether Ryan and Lily agree, but I introduced him to Sophie first.
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Lily has known Ryan since childhood. You can't get much earlier than that. Aunt Linda had no answer to that argument.
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After Aunt Linda and Mrs. Harper's argument, I continued helping in the hall for a while until Emma pulled me aside. Ryan, I found out something interesting. What is it this time? She smiled slightly. Do you know why Lily
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came home today of all days? She said she had the day off. She works at a test preparation center. Weekends are her busiest time. Then why did she come for you? I overheard Mr. and Mrs. Harper talking. They want Lily to become my
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sister-in-law. Don't make things up. I'm serious. Mrs. Harper even argued with Aunt Linda, who's trying to set you up with Sophie. I could hardly believe that the adults had already turned my personal life into a competition. Do you
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really not have anyone? Emma asked. Maybe you should confess now before our relatives find 10 more brides for you.
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No, your brother is single and free. At that moment, my phone rang. Madison's name appeared on the screen. Who's that?
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Emma asked immediately. A friend. I answered the call. Ryan, come outside and meet me." Madison drawled. Emma was standing beside me and heard everything.
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Her eyes immediately widened. Where are you? At the entrance to the Millbrook Grand. I'm standing by your car. I'll be right there. I headed toward the exit and Emma hurried after me. Is that your girlfriend? A friend without the word
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girl? Of course. That's why she talks to you in that voice. Madison stood beside the G-Class in a white off-the-shoulder dress. Even in the empty parking lot, she immediately drew attention. "Why didn't you tell me you were already
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here?" I asked. "I wanted to come with Olivia, but her meeting ran long, so I came by myself." She pointed at the red Porsche 911 parked behind the G-Class.
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"Help me carry the gifts inside." Madison opened the trunk. Inside were a pale pink Louis Vuitton suitcase, cosmetics, and several expensive gift sets. Why did you bring so much? The suitcase and everything inside it are for Emma. She's leaving for college
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soon. The rest is for your parents. It's my first time meeting them, so I couldn't come empty-handed. This is too expensive. Not for me. Stop arguing and take the suitcase. Madison took two light bags while I was left with
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everything else. When we entered the hall, the conversations immediately fell silent. From the outside, we really did look like a couple. I was carrying expensive gifts while Madison walked beside me and stayed close because she did not know anyone there. Aunt Linda
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and Mrs. Harper were especially surprised. Not long ago, they had been arguing over who would succeed in arranging my love life. And now I had appeared with a beautiful woman who drove a red Porsche. Mrs. Harper involuntarily looked at Lily. Lily had
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deliberately taken time off and returned to Milbrook after talking to her mother. She had liked me since high school, so she agreed to give a relationship between us a chance. After our conversation at the entrance that morning, she had thought everything was
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going well. But beside Madison, her confidence quickly disappeared. Laura, when did Ryan get a girlfriend? Aunt Linda was the first to ask. This is my first time seeing her, too. Mom replied.
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Dad smiled with satisfaction. And what a beauty he found. That's my son. First, find out who she is. Mom stopped him.
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She may just be an acquaintance. Emma was the first to approach us. Ryan, aren't you going to introduce us? This is my friend Madison and this is Emma, my sister. It's very nice to meet you, Madison said with a smile.
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Congratulations on getting accepted. Ryan said you chose international trade. Thank you. Madison pointed at the pink suitcase.
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This is for you. It'll be useful at college. Emma recognized the Louis Vuitton logo and became flustered. For me?
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Of course. Open it. There's more inside. I placed the suitcase on a table and lifted the lid. It was filled with gifts. One by one, Madison took out a Louisis Vuitton backpack, a new MacBook, a camera, a Cardier bracelet, and a pair
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of Gucci sneakers. The backpack and laptop will be useful for classes, the camera for traveling, and the shoes are comfortable for walking around campus, she explained. I didn't know what you liked, so I chose everything myself.
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Emma and I silently stared at the items laid out before us. The gifts cost more than $20,000 in total. Madison, this is too expensive, I said. I can't accept all of this, Emma agreed. Madison looked at me with displeasure. Stop acting as
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if we barely know each other. Emma is your sister. I was actually worried that I hadn't bought enough. After the auction, her generosity was no accident.
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She had wanted to thank me for a long time and Emma's celebration gave her the perfect opportunity. My parents and the rest of our relatives approached us.
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Ryan, will you introduce us? Mom asked. This is Madison Carter, my friend. Madison. These are my parents, Laura and Michael. It's very nice to meet you, she said politely. What a beautiful young woman, Mom said with a smile. You look
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wonderful, too, Mrs. Hayes. Madison pointed at the remaining boxes. I prepared a few small gifts for you. Mom saw the expensive cosmetic set and fell silent in surprise. Meanwhile, Dad examined the premium alcohol and cigars.
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"You shouldn't have spent so much," Mom said. "It's just a small gesture." Aunt Linda immediately decided to find out everything. Madison, I'm Ryan's aunt.
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What do you do? Nothing at the moment. I'm planning to open my own store. What about your parents? My father owns a company and my mother owns a beauty salon. The answer explained everything.
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Madison had grown up in a wealthy family and was accustomed to spending entirely different amounts of money. Mrs.
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Harper's expression noticeably darkened. Madison's arrival had ruined her plans for Ryan and Lily. Lily was also silent.
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She had spent two years in New York and knew how much Madison's belongings cost.
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Her gaze lingered in particular on the Cardier necklace she had previously seen only in fashion magazines. Until then, Lily had believed she had a chance. Now standing in front of her was a woman who surpassed her in beauty, confidence, and
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status. She no longer wanted to compete with Madison. Mom pulled me aside. When did you find such a wealthy girlfriend?
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Why didn't you tell us? Madison isn't my girlfriend. We're just friends. Ordinary friends don't bring $20,000 worth of gifts. I didn't expect her to buy so much either. Mom looked at Madison.
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She's beautiful and well-mannered. I don't object to your relationship. It's just that her family is much richer than ours. I'm not sure her parents will accept you. Mom, there is no relationship. Of course, she said with an understanding nod. Go. Don't leave
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the girl alone. I realized there was no way to convince her. Meanwhile, Aunt Linda continued questioning Madison about her family. I hurried to intervene. Madison, let's go sit down. I need to tell you something. All right, Aunt Linda will continue later. After we
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walked away, Aunt Linda reported the results of her investigation to my parents. Do you have any idea who she is? Madison is the daughter of the owner of Carter Group. The company is worth several billion dollars. Mom and dad
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exchanged surprised looks. She's that rich? Dad asked. Exactly. Ryan hit the jackpot, Aunt Linda declared before turning to Mrs. Harper. It looks like Lily doesn't stand a chance after all.
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My daughter will be just fine without Ryan," she replied coldly. "Of course. If you want, I can find someone for her, too." Mom stopped the argument before it could begin. We don't even know what kind of relationship they have yet.
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You'd better finish the preparations. Madison and I sat down in the far corner of the hall. "I think your family has decided I'm your girlfriend," she said.
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What did you expect after gifts like those? Can't a friend give someone a present? She can, just not one worth $20,000.
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Madison smirked. You make it sound as if dating me would be embarrassing. That's not the point. Now, my parents will definitely start inviting you to our house. I'll come. I looked at her. But Madison calmly continued. I liked your
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parents. There was no point in arguing. From the outside, our conversation looked even more like a date. Meanwhile, the hall gradually filled up. My parents greeted the guests while relatives and acquaintances congratulated Emma.
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However, dad grew increasingly gloomy. He had invited several executives from Milbrook Chemical to the celebration, but none of them had shown up. After yesterday's argument with Martin Caldwell, that seemed worrying. Michael What are you thinking about? Robert, the
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deputy workshop manager, approached him. I'm waiting for the others. Why hasn't anyone come? There was a meeting this morning. Representatives from Empire Group arrived for negotiations. Dad frowned.
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What meeting? No one told me about it. That's strange. Even I was called in.
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There was almost no room left for doubt. Caldwell had deliberately excluded dad from an important meeting. Robert continued, "Next week, an Empire Group Commission will begin a full inspection of the plant. They're planning to acquire a controlling stake. Milbrook
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Chemical had needed an investor for a long time. Empire Group planned to acquire 51% of the shares and completely restructure the management. Are the negotiations over?" Dad asked. "Not yet.
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The plant's management is still there. Dad let out a heavy sigh. Now it was clear why the executives had not come.
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But the fact that he had not been invited to the meeting meant Caldwell had already made his move. Meanwhile, negotiations continued in the Milbrook chemical conference room. Martin Caldwell, the chief engineer, and the plant's management sat on one side. On
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the other was the Empire Group delegation headed by Olivia. Almost all the terms had already been agreed upon.
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The investment amount remained the main obstacle. The plant will require at least $210 million for complete modernization. The chief engineer stated. Olivia calmly closed the folder.
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Empire Group is prepared to invest no more than $180 million. The final amount will only be determined after the audit, but that isn't enough. Then find another investor. We will not return to this issue. Her tone left no room for
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bargaining. Caldwell hurried to intervene. It's already lunchtime. I suggest we take a break and continue our discussion over lunch. I've reserved a restaurant. Olivia checked the time.
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Negotiations will resume at 1:30. I won't be joining you for lunch, but we've prepared everything. I have other plans. She gave several instructions to her deputy and left the room. Caldwell watched her leave with displeasure. He had hoped to establish a personal
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connection over lunch and secure concessions. "Where is Miss Quinn going?" he asked the Empire Group vice president to meet a friend. Caldwell was surprised. He did not know the Empire Group Aerys had acquaintances in Milbrook. He had no choice but to take
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the company's other representatives to the restaurant. completely unaware of whom Olivia had gone to see. Only a few minutes remained before the celebration began. The guests gathered at the entrance where the hotel staff had prepared festive confetti poppers. Dad
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was supposed to give the signal, but he looked tense. Not a single Milbrook Chemical Executive had arrived. After the deal with Empire Group, layoffs at the plant would be inevitable. If Martin Caldwell decided to take revenge, Dad could lose his job at the exact time
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Emma needed money for college. "Michael, I almost didn't make it." Richard Foster, the deputy chief engineer at Milbrook Chemical, approached him. "I'm glad you came," Dad said brightening.
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"The negotiations held me up. By the way, what happened between you and Caldwell? Why weren't you called to the morning meeting?" Dad briefly told him about yesterday's conflict. I see, Richard said, his expression darkening.
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Caldwell holds grudges. But don't think about him today. It's your daughter's celebration. Dad nodded and reached for the launch button. At that moment, a taxi stopped in front of the hotel. A tall woman in a formal business suit
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stepped out. Olivia immediately caught the guests attention. Finally, Madison ran out to meet her. My meeting just ended, Olivia replied. I approached her as well. I'm glad you made it. Dad looked at us with interest. Ryan, will you introduce us? This is Olivia Quinn,
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my boss. Olivia, this is my father. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Hayes. So, you're the one taking care of our Ryan, Dad said with a smile. Thank you for trusting him with such a car. He's told
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us a lot about you. I wanted to object, but Olivia merely smiled politely. Richard Foster recognized her and hurried over. Miss Quinn, I didn't expect to see you here. You're the deputy chief engineer at Milbrook Chemical, correct? Yes. I'm glad you
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remembered me. So, you left the meeting to attend Emma's celebration. That's right. Richard immediately realized that the Hayes family knew the Empire group Aerys far better than it had seemed. His decision to leave the corporate lunch and support dad had unexpectedly turned
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out to be a very wise one. After the confetti was launched, everyone returned to the hall and the celebration began.
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My parents and Emma went from table to table thanking the guests and accepting their congratulations. I remained at the main table with Olivia and Madison.
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Richard sat nearby and constantly tried to keep Olivia engaged in conversation. She answered briefly and without much interest, but that did not stop him.
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Finally, my parents came to our table. Olivia, Madison, thank you for coming to congratulate Emma, Dad said, raising his glass. Madison raised hers, too. Olivia picked up a glass of juice. I'm sorry, but my negotiations will continue after
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lunch, so I won't be drinking. I'll drink for you, Richard immediately interjected and emptied his glass. An awkward silence fell over the table.
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Richard, I haven't even gotten to you yet, Dad said with a smirk. That glass was for Miss Quinn. I'll drink for myself separately. Dad shook his head and clinkedked glasses with Madison.
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Thank you again for the gifts, Emma said. I hope you enjoy them, Madison replied with a smile. Olivia took out a bank card and held it out to Emma. I didn't have time to choose a gift. Take this and buy whatever you want. Emma
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looked at me in confusion. Olivia, that's not necessary. I said, "The fact that you came is enough." She gave me a cold look. The gift isn't for you. Then she held the card out to Emma again.
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"Take it. It doesn't feel right to accept money from someone we're meeting for the first time." Dad intervened.
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It's a gift for Emma, Olivia calmly replied. Take it, Madison said. It's a small amount for Olivia. Dad looked at me, waiting for a decision. I realized Olivia would not back down anyway.
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Accept it. We'll find a way to thank her later. Emma took the card. Thank you, Olivia. You're welcome. Dad thanked her, too. Although it was clear from his face that he had no idea how much money was on the card. Dad continued making his
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way around the tables when a commotion arose at the entrance. Martin Caldwell, chief engineer Gregory Cole, and the other executives from Milbrook Chemical entered the hall. The plant employees immediately stood to greet their bosses.
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"Michael, sorry we're late," Caldwell said loudly. "The meeting ran long. Thank you for finding the time to come, Dad replied with restraint. He immediately understood why they had appeared. The executives had learned that Olivia was here and hurried after
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her. Caldwell spotted her at the main table. "Miss Quinn, what an unexpected meeting." Olivia merely nodded. "Are you close with the Hayes family?" he asked cautiously. She looked at him coldly.
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"What does that have to do with our negotiations?" Caldwell became flustered. "Nothing. I was simply surprised to see you here. Did you truly find out by chance?" Olivia asked. "Of course. Michael invited us a long time ago, but the negotiations delayed us. If
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I'd known where you were going, we could have come together." He looked around the main table, hoping to sit beside her, but there were no empty seats. Dad pointed to a table by the far wall. "Mr.
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Caldwell, Mr. Cole, please take a seat over there. The food will be brought out shortly. Caldwell looked unhappily in the indicated direction. Miss Quinn, perhaps you'd like to join us. We could discuss the terms of the deal at the
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same time. We will continue discussing work after lunch. He had no choice but to back down. Then enjoy your meal.
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Thank you. The plant executives headed to the distant table. I took several empty gift envelopes and placed them in front of them. Thank you for coming to congratulate Emma. The hint was obvious.
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Since they had come to the celebration, they should behave like guests. None of them could refuse now. The executives took out money and each of them tried to contribute at least as much as the others. They had come because of Olivia,
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but she barely paid them any attention. However, everyone now understood that the Hayes family had a connection to the Empire Group Aerys. After the deal was finalized, Empire Group would decide who kept their position and who was fired.
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As a result, the executives suddenly began treating Dad with far greater respect. The lunch was especially unpleasant for Caldwell. He spent money on a gift, sat in the far corner, and never had the opportunity to speak with Olivia. After the celebration, the
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guests began to leave. Olivia pulled me aside. Do you have any plans for the afternoon? No. Why? You're coming to the negotiations with me. Why? I doubt I'll be much help there. Perhaps not to yourself, but it will help your father.
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I immediately understood her plan. If Milbrook Chemicals management saw me as part of the Empire Group delegation, Caldwell would no longer be able to openly pressure Dad. All right, I'll go.
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You haven't been drinking? No. Dad went around all the tables with a glass, so someone has to drive. Then we'll take your car. I informed my family and said goodbye to Madison. Caldwell and the other executives were waiting for us
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outside the hotel. They expected to drive Olivia back to the plant themselves. Miss Quinn, our car is ready, Caldwell said. I'm going with Ryan. She headed toward the black G-Class. The executives watched us with wary expressions. It was now clear that
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I was not merely an Empire Group employee. Olivia had attended my sister's celebration, sat with my family, and was going back to the negotiations in my car. Their attitude toward dad changed right before our eyes.
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At 1:30, both delegations gathered again in the Milbrook Chemical Conference Room. Just as Caldwell had expected, I sat on the Empire group side. Olivia began the meeting. Before we continue, I'd like to introduce a new participant in the negotiations. Ryan Hayes is a
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senior asset valuation specialist at Empire Group. He was absent this morning due to personal circumstances, but from now on, he will participate in every meeting. The PL executives knew perfectly well what those personal circumstances had been. Olivia had not
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only allowed me to attend Emma's celebration, but had also gone there herself. Caldwell was no longer smiling.
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Now, any attack on my father could be seen as an attack on someone from the Empire group Aerys's inner circle. After lunch, the negotiations moved much faster. Milbrook Chemical was in serious financial trouble, and the city authorities had personally invited
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Empire Group and offered the company tax incentives. The plant had no other serious investors. Olivia stated directly, "If our terms are unacceptable to you, we will end the negotiations." Caldwell and the other executives immediately became more accommodating.
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They understood that the collapse of the deal would have serious consequences for them. By 4:00, the parties had agreed on the main terms. I decided to return to New York right away. Olivia did not go with the delegation and got into my
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G-Class instead. On the way, she suddenly asked, "What do you think of Martin Caldwell?" Nothing good. Under his leadership, the plant ended up on the verge of bankruptcy, and his behavior is disgusting. What do you mean? Take my phone. There are photos in
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the gallery. Password. Six ones. Why that one? It's a single man's password. Olivia unlocked the phone and found the photos of Caldwell with the younger woman. That isn't his wife. No.
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Where did you get these photos? I told her how Emma and I had accidentally spotted them outside the mall and then followed them to Sienna Gardens. I also mentioned the conflict at the restaurant. Olivia sent the photos to
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herself. The affair itself is a private matter, but for the head of a company that receives government support, it's reason enough to examine expenses, gifts, and possible conflicts of interest. So, they'll be useful. They'll certainly be enough to start an internal
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investigation. It seemed Caldwell had given Empire Group a reason to investigate him. Olivia fell asleep in the passenger seat. I did not know her address, so I returned to my building at Empire Towers, parked, and waited. Half an hour later, she opened her eyes. Why
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are we sitting here? I didn't want to wake you. Where should I take you?
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Nowhere. I live here, one floor above you. Seriously, I told you. I don't remember. I thought the Empire group Ays lived in a mansion.
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I moved out of my parents' house. It's quieter here. Olivia promised to arrange access to the underground garage for me, after which we headed toward the building together. It was already dark in the courtyard. We walked silently along the poorly lit path, and I could
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not help glancing at her. After the long day, Olivia looked tired, but she was still incredibly beautiful. In the elevator, she said, "I'll ride with you tomorrow morning." All right.
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I got out on the 22nd floor. Good night. Good night. The doors closed and Olivia continued up to the next floor. Loud rock music was coming from the apartment. Jake Miller heard me come in and walked out of his room. Finally,
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you're back. Did you miss me? Of course. It's boring here alone. He handed me an envelope. This is for Emma's college admission. Keep it. You need the money yourself. If you don't take it, I'll be offended. There was no point in arguing
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with Jake. I took the envelope and thanked him on Emma's behalf. I was about to take a shower when mom called.
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Did you get home? I just walked in. Is anyone nearby? I need to ask you something. I'm alone.
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She lowered her voice. Do you know how much money was on Olivia's card? No.
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$30,000. I froze. How much? $30,000. I checked several times. Even for Olivia, that was an overly generous gift. Ryan, what is she to you? An ordinary boss doesn't give an employes family that much money. We just work together. What about Madison? Her gifts
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cost more than 20,000. Is she also just a friend? Yes. Mom fell silent and then asked the most important question. Then tell me honestly, which one of them is my future daughter-in-law? Mom's question gave me a headache. Neither of
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them. What? Are they both single? Dad immediately joined the conversation. Ryan, they're both wonderful. I'll support whichever one you choose. Do you want me to have a girlfriend or not? Of course we do, Mom replied. But only one.
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two would be a problem. If they aren't your girlfriends yet, then they're both interested in you," Dad declared confidently. "Otherwise, they wouldn't have gone to so much trouble for Emma.
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You clearly inherited my charm. When I was young, girls used to line up for me." "Michael, stop making things up.
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Mom cut him off." I smirked. Get some rest. You must be tired after today.
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Wait. Emma wants to talk to you. My sister took the phone. Ryan, can I come to New York and work until college starts? I want to get used to the city in advance. You don't need to work. I'm
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already 18. That's exactly why I don't want you looking for some random job on your own. Madison offered me a position at her new store. I thought about it.
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I'll talk to her first. All right, I'll wait for your answer. After the call, I messaged Madison, but she did not reply.
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I took a shower and fell asleep almost immediately. In the morning, Olivia and I drove to Empire Pawn. At a traffic light, I asked, "Mom said there were $30,000 on the card." "That's right.
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Isn't that too much? Consider it a bonus for your work." The amount clearly did not mean much to her. The security guard met us outside the pawn shop. When he saw us getting out of the car together, he smiled knowingly. "Good morning, Miss
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Quinn. Good morning, Ryan." There was still more than half an hour before the workday began. "I'm going to get breakfast," I told Olivia. "Let's go together." We went to a small Asian cafe across from the pawn shop. "The last
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breakfast with Olivia had cost me far too much, so I opened the menu to the simplest dishes. She noticed I'm paying today." Then the important thing is to eat well. I immediately ordered the most expensive seafood dish and several
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appetizers. Olivia shook her head. A minute ago, you were going to order plain rice porridge. I changed my mind.
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We returned to the pawn shop by 9:00. While we were having breakfast, the employees had reached their own conclusions. We had arrived together.
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Olivia did not have her car and then the two of us had gone to the cafe. That was enough for our colleagues to decide we were living together. Good morning, Miss Quinn. She briefly returned the greeting and went upstairs to her office. I
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walked over to the first counter where Mr. Wilson was already working. You look especially energetic today, he remarked.
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I went to bed early. Really? Young people rarely go to bed early, especially when they don't live alone. I frowned. What do you mean, Mr. Wilson smiled mysteriously. Nothing. When I was young, I didn't know how to conserve my
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energy either. Now I regret it. Judging by his expression, he was hinting at something indecent. I simply could not understand why. Mr. Wilson was certain that Olivia and I had spent the night together. I had no idea our colleagues
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considered us a couple. Our conversation was interrupted by a middle-aged woman carrying a large cardboard box. I want to sell several handbags, she told the receptionist. Please go to the second counter. Our specialist will examine them and give you a price. Peter
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Collins, an expert in luxury goods, worked at the second counter. Ryan, watch how the appraisal is done. Mr.
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Wilson suggested it'll be useful to you. The box contained eight Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Gucci, and Hermes handbags. As soon as the woman opened the box, price tags appeared above the items. Only one of the handbags was genuine. Peter first
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picked up a classic Louis Vuitton model and a small Chanel bag. After examining them, he handed both to me. What do you think? I had already seen their value.
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Where did you buy them? I asked the woman. My daughter gave me most of them.
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Your biological daughter? The woman frowned with displeasure. What difference does that make? Are you examining the handbags or my family? I'm just clarifying the origin of the items.
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I handed both bags back to her. We can't accept them. Why are you saying they're fake? Peter gave a barely noticeable nod, confirming my conclusion. They're highquality replicas, I said. But they aren't genuine. That's impossible. Look at the leather, the stitching, and the
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logos. That's exactly why the counterfeits are easy to mistake for the real thing, but the materials and hardware are different. While we spoke, Peter examined the remaining handbags.
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In the end, only an orange Hermes bag worth about $12,000 remained in his hands. We're prepared to buy this one, he said. The others failed the inspection. The woman turned pale. Only one is real. You can get a second
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opinion at an official boutique, Peter replied calmly, judging by her reaction. The handbags had been given to her by a step-daughter she trusted completely.
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She did not want to acknowledge the deception. "Then I'm not selling anything at all." She put everything back into the box and left. "Does this happen often?" I asked. "All the time," Peter replied. "Modern replicas are made extremely well. Even an experienced
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person can make a mistake. Without my ability, I would not have been able to tell those handbags apart either. Do you have any materials on authenticating luxury goods? Peter took a thick notebook out of a drawer. These are my
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work notes from the past several years. You can read them, but don't give them to anyone else. Thank you. I returned to the first counter and began reading.
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After only a few pages, I noticed something strange. I remembered every line, photograph, and diagram. After looking at it once, whenever I closed my eyes, the contents of the page appeared in my memory in perfect detail. My ability did more than show me the value
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of objects. It had changed my memory, too. I read the thick notebook, which would normally have taken several days to study in 3 hours. You're finished already? Mr. Wilson asked in surprise.
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"Yes, I learned a lot. I have notes on antiques at home. If you're interested, I'll bring them." Of course.
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Now, I could quickly acquire genuine knowledge and stop relying entirely on the price tags. At lunchtime, the employees went up to the small cafeteria on the second floor. "How useful were Peter's notes?" Mr. Wilson asked. "Very useful. I'll give you my materials after
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lunch. Olivia entered the cafeteria. The employees greeted her immediately and let her move to the front of the line.
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She thanked them and then looked directly at me. Ryan, sit with me. We need to talk. My colleagues gazes immediately shifted toward me. It seemed the rumors about our relationship had just received new confirmation. All right, I replied, not understanding why
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Olivia had invited me to her table. We sat in the far corner of the cafeteria.
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The other employees pretended to focus on their lunches, but they were clearly listening. There's a charity reception this evening, Olivia said. I need someone to accompany me. Are you asking me to go? Yes. Any objections? Honestly, I'd rather spend the evening at home,
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but since you're asking, I'll agree. Then we leave at 2:00. That early? Olivia looked over my t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. First, we'll have to make you presentable. Will there be celebrities there? Possibly.
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That made the evening a little more interesting. After lunch, I went downstairs with Mr. Wilson. So, you're going to a charity reception with Miss Quinn tonight? He asked. Is it impossible to keep a secret in our cafeteria? You were talking 3 yards away
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from everyone else. I did not continue the subject. You promised me your notes on antiques. Mr. Wilson took two thick notebooks out of his locker. These are materials I've collected over many years. If you have any questions, just
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ask. I thanked him and started reading. By 2:00, I had memorized a significant portion of the first notebook. Olivia came downstairs exactly on time. Ryan, let's go. I returned the notes to Mr.
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Wilson and followed her. The employees watched us leave with interest. Our evening together only strengthened their conviction that something was going on between us. "Where are we going?" I asked from behind the wheel. "Violet Plaza. It was one of the most expensive
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shopping centers in New York. International brands occupied several floors, and ordinary shoppers came more often to look than to buy. Olivia took me to a Hermes boutique. Find him a suit, a shirt, and shoes, she told the sales associate. The woman assessed my
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casual clothes, then noticed Olivia's watch, and immediately became much friendlier. A few minutes later, I was sent to the fitting room. When I emerged in a dark suit, white shirt, and leather shoes, Olivia froze for a moment. The
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clothes fit perfectly. Even I barely recognized myself in the mirror. It's uncomfortable, I complained. It feels as if my movements aren't my own anymore.
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You'll get used to it, Olivia replied. Well take it. She did not even ask the price. After she paid, I changed back into my clothes and picked up the bags. How much did everything cost?
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Around $18,000. I stopped for one suit, including the shirt and shoes. I hope that won't be deducted from my salary. The company will cover the expenses. Then everything is perfect. Olivia rolled her eyes and led me to ANR styling studio on the top
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floor. Inside were a hair styling area, makeup rooms, and dressing rooms. A young stylist approached us. Miss Quinn, it's good to see you. She pointed at me.
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Choose a hairstyle for him and prepare a complete evening look. His clothes are in the bags. We'll take care of it. I noticed the price list. The full preparation cost almost $500. I normally paid 20 for a haircut. It seemed Olivia
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had decided to completely transform me into someone from her world today. The preparations took several hours. They styled and cut my hair, cleansed my skin, and applied light makeup. When I stood in front of the mirror in the suit
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again, I barely recognized myself. Turned out that with enough effort, I really could look like a movie star.
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Olivia was already in the waiting room. She had exchanged her business suit for a long pale yellow gown. The familiar cold executive had disappeared. An elegant woman stood before me, and it was difficult to look away from her.
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"Olivia also studied me for several seconds." "Miss Quinn, are you satisfied with the result?" the stylist asked.
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"Quite," she replied calmly. From her initial reaction, I could tell the result was better than she had expected.
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The Basha Charity Gala was being held for the 10th time. A major fashion conglomerate organized the event and its guests included entrepreneurs, actors, and musicians. This year, the gala was held at the New York Media Center studio complex and streamed online. I did not
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learn until we arrived that we would have to walk down a red carpet before entering. You could have warned me, I said quietly. Then you might have refused. Exactly.
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When it was our turn, Olivia took my arm. Don't be nervous. Imagine you're back at Emma's celebration. We stepped out in front of the photographers.
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Dozens of cameras immediately began flashing around us. Who's that guy? The woman next to him is Olivia Quinn. The Empire group Aerys. Then he must come from a very powerful family. In the journalist's eyes, my new suit and my
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status as Olivia's companion transformed me into a wealthy heir. After the red carpet, we signed the guest wall and entered the hall. Our table was located near the stage. Two famous actresses and several major business people were already seated there. When they saw
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Olivia, the guests immediately stood up. Miss Quinn, it's a pleasure to meet you. One of the businessmen looked at me. And this is Ryan Hayes, senior director of asset valuation at Empire Group. Olivia introduced me without hesitation. I gave
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her a barely noticeable glance. That morning I had been an ordinary appraiser and by evening I had become a director.
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Impressive. So young and you already hold such an important position. I thanked him politely. After that the entrepreneurs turned their attention to Olivia and tried to discuss possible cooperation with Empire Group. I did not intervene and simply studied the guests.
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Soon, I heard a familiar voice behind me. Ryan, Olivia, you're already here. Madison approached us in a pale pink evening gown. When she saw me, she stopped. "Wow, Ryan, you look incredible tonight." She immediately took out her phone. "We need a picture." Madison
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wrapped an arm around my neck and took a selfie. Daniel Whitmore was accompanying her. When he saw how close we were, his expression darkened noticeably. "We meet again," he said coldly. "Looks like it." Daniel looked me up and down. "I didn't
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expect to see you at an event like this. They don't invite just anyone. The guests at the table looked in our direction. The implication was obvious." In Daniel's opinion, I did not belong there. Olivia immediately intervened.
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Are you saying that a senior director at Empire Group isn't worthy of an invitation? Daniel frowned. He understood perfectly well that Olivia had deliberately elevated my status, but he could not argue with her. Of course not. I was simply surprised. He turned
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to me and forced a smile. Congratulations on your rapid promotion. Thank you. After that, I became completely certain that Daniel had not come over to talk. He had come to try to humiliate me. Olivia simply refused to let him do it. Madison sat down beside
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me. You messaged me yesterday. Did something happened? Emma said she's planning to work at your new store.
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That's right. What kind of store is it? A premium toy store. My father is always saying that I don't do anything, so I decided to start my own business. When is the opening?
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Next Saturday. Emma can come whenever she wants, and I expect you to be there, too. I definitely will. The hall gradually filled up. Before the gala began, several actors and entrepreneurs approached our table to meet Olivia and exchange contact information. Soon, the
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hosts stepped onto the stage and announced the beginning of the event. The evening's cause was helping remote mountain communities that did not have enough ambulances. All the money raised would be used to purchase them. After a short awards ceremony and a musical
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performance, the charity auction began. This was the part that interested me most. The lots might include antiques, paintings, and jewelry. Bidding for every item will begin at $1, the host announced. You may increase the bid by any amount. The first lot was brought
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onto the stage. This snuff bottle was donated by the renowned director Garrett Vale. According to the information provided, the item was made in China more than 200 years ago. A white bottle with a landscape on one side and a poem
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on the other appeared on the large screen. A number immediately appeared above it. $150.
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That meant the bottle was modern and worth almost nothing. Bidding is now open. 1,500, 3,000, 5,000, 10,000. The price was being driven up mainly by actors who wanted to support the famous director. Madison leaned toward me. Is it really an antique? No,
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it's worth $150 at most. So, it's fake. The bottle itself is real. It just isn't anywhere near 200 years old. An entrepreneur seated nearby who was fond of collecting overheard our conversation. Ryan, do you know much about antiques? A little. That's
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remarkable confidence considering how far we are from the stage. Daniel smirked. Don't take his words seriously.
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Some people like to pretend they're experts in front of women. The businessman thought about it. Daniel's explanation probably seemed plausible to him. I looked at Daniel. If you believe the bottle is authentic, buy it. After all, the money will go to charity. So,
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you're certain it's a modern reproduction? I'm certain. Then, let's make a bet. I'll buy the bottle. If an expert examination confirms that it's more than 200 years old, you'll reimburse me for the full purchase price. The item will remain mine. I
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thought for a moment. Agreed. Daniel asked the businessman at the table to witness our bet. Meanwhile, the bidding reached $15,000 and stopped. "$15,000 going once. Any other offers?" the host asked. Daniel stood up. "$70,000?" The hall immediately stirred. "Did I
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hear that correctly?" "7 $70,000?" the host asked. "That's right," Daniel confirmed. Whitmore Jewelry has always supported charitable projects. I want to contribute to the purchase of ambulances. The guests applauded his words, but I understood the real reason perfectly well. Daniel had deliberately
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driven up the price, expecting to force me to pay the entire $70,000 after the appraisal. I had no doubt about the result. The price still glowed above the snuff bottle, $150.
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If the item had truly been made more than 200 years ago, it could not have been worth so little. Daniel had chosen to put himself in an embarrassing position. I had no intention of stopping him. On stage, the host addressed the
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audience again. Mr. Whitmore has offered $70,000. Are there any other bids? No one answered. $70,000. Going once, going twice. The host waited a few more seconds.
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sold. The audience applauded as the bidding ended. Congratulations to Mr. Whitmore and thank you to Whitmore Jewelry for supporting this charitable project. Garrett Vale was then invited onto the stage to personally present the donated lot to its buyer. The spotlight
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fell on Daniel. He stood up with a satisfied smile and walked onto the stage. Garrett came up from the other side. They both gave short speeches about the importance of charity. After which the director handed him the bottle
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in a small wooden case. Madison watched them and quietly asked me, "Ryan, are you sure?" Garrett Vale donated that item. Would a famous director really bring a fake to a charity gala? He didn't necessarily do it on purpose.
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Maybe he believes the bottle is an antique, too. And what if it really is genuine? Will you actually give Daniel $70,000?
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She frowned unhappily. He clearly raised the bid only to make you pay. Don't worry, I won't have to pay. A few minutes later, Daniel returned to the table and placed the case in front of me. Don't forget our
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bet. If the bottle is genuine, you'll be paying that $70,000. I smirked. I'll gladly praise your generosity.
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Spending $70,000 on an early 20th century souvenir is a serious contribution to charity. Daniel's smile disappeared. Keep pretending to be confident. I've already asked Adrien Velmore to examine the bottle. He heads the New York Collector Society and is
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considered one of the best experts on antiques. Excellent. I hope you'll believe his conclusion. Of course. The collector sitting nearby looked at the case. May I take a look? Of course.
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Daniel pushed the box toward him. The collector took out the bottle and spent a long time examining the painting, the stopper, and the base. He was clearly interested in antiques, but he was not a professional expert. After a few
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minutes, the manighed. I can't determine its age. The workmanship looks convincing, but something bothers me. At that moment, an elderly man wearing thin silverframed glasses approached our table. Daniel immediately stood up. Mr.
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Velmore, please have a seat. That won't be necessary. I'll take a quick look. Adrien Velmore had also been invited to the charity gala and had donated a lot of his own. His item was scheduled to be auctioned later. He picked up the bottle
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and began examining it carefully under the light. Daniel smiled. Garrett Vale himself donated the item. A famous director would hardly bring a fake.
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Moore did not reply. He examined the painting, ran a finger along the rim of the neck, turned the bottle over, and paused over the base. Finally, the expert returned it to the case. This item does not correspond to the stated
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period. Daniel froze. What? The bottle was made considerably later. Are you sure? Look at it again. I finished my examination. Of course, this is only my professional opinion. Delmore said a brief goodbye and returned to his seat. The auction was still underway,
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and he did not want to disturb the other guests. Daniel slowly lowered himself into his chair. In the antiques world, experts rarely called an item fake outright. Phrases such as, "Does not correspond to the period or raises doubts meant that the object was almost
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certainly not what it was claimed to be." The collector looked at me in surprise. I had not even held the bottle in my hands. An image on the large screen had been enough for me to correctly determine its age. The two
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actresses at the table also changed their opinion of me. Until then, they had considered me an ordinary Empire group employee whom Olivia had brought to the event as her companion. Daniel's remarks had only strengthened their belief that I had neither money nor an
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influential family. Now it was clear that I truly possessed a rare talent. Even experienced specialists sometimes made mistakes when appraising antiques.
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I had identified a fake from a great distance and turned out to be right. I looked at Daniel. Thank you for contributing toward the purchase of the ambulances. His expression darkened. It was not about the $70,000 for the heir to Whitmore jewelry. That
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amount was not catastrophic. What irritated him was the public humiliation. Madison, Olivia, and several influential business people had watched our bet. An event staff member approached the table. Mr. Whitmore, please come with me. We need to process payment for the lot you purchased. After
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the experts conclusion, the request sounded especially painful. But Daniel could no longer refuse. He stood up and followed the employee with a grim expression. Once they had walked away, the collector turned to me. Ryan, I have to admit, you have an extraordinary eye.
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I was just lucky. Luck can sometimes help with antiques, but it's useless without knowledge. He took out his phone. If you don't mind, shall we exchange contact information? I have a decent collection at home. I'd like to hear your opinion on several items one
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day. I'd be happy to. I'd be interested in seeing them myself. We exchanged contact information. It seemed that one glance at a cheap bottle had brought me not only victory in the bet, but also a useful new acquaintance. After the
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second lot, a landscape painting donated by actor Elias Crawford was brought onto the stage. The painting measures 60x 33 in. The opening bid is $1. After the story with the bottle, I expected to see another fake. However, a number appeared
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above the painting. $170,000. The painting really was valuable. The bidding began without much interest.
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$3,000 5,000 8,000 12,000. The bids stopped there. The guests clearly doubted the work's authenticity and Crawford did not have the same influence as Garrett Veil. I raised my paddle. $15,000.
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Madison immediately looked at me. Is the painting valuable? I simply decided to support the charity. I can tell from your face that this isn't only about charity. Don't bid against me and everything will be fine. I wasn't going
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to. No one else was interested. 15,000 going once, twice, sold. The spotlight fell on me and my face appeared on the large screen. I stood up and walked toward the stage. In Milbrook, Emma was messaging her classmates when Tessa
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Blaine sent a screenshot of the broadcast to their group chat. Isn't that your brother? Despite the suit and styled hair, Emma recognized me immediately. It is. What kind of event is that? The Basha Charity Gala. There are celebrities and billionaires there.
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The chat instantly came alive. Emma, is your brother a celebrity now? Ask him to get the TV actress's autograph. So, you're a wealthy er introduce us to your brother. Emma got the link from Tessa and opened the broadcast. At that exact
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moment, I was walking onto the stage. Mom, come here. Ryan is on a live broadcast. Laura came out of my room where she had been grading schoolwork.
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Where? at a charity gala in New York. On the screen, the host handed me a microphone. Introduce yourself to our viewers. Ryan Hayes, an ordinary employee of Empire Group. You're too modest, Mr. Hayes. Elias Crawford then came onto the stage. He shook my hand
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and presented me with the painting. I thank Mr. Hayes for his generosity, the actor said. After a group photograph, a staff member packed the canvas and handed it to me. Laura looked at the screen in surprise. "That actor is
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speaking to Ryan so respectfully." "I told you he'd accomplished a lot," Emma replied. "Otherwise, Olivia and Madison wouldn't have given us so much money and so many expensive things. I'll ask him how he got into that gala." Emma
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immediately remembered something else. Then agree to use the money for the house. Ryan has already transferred $70,000 to you together with Olivia's gift and the money from my celebration.
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That's enough for a down payment. Laura still did not want to spend money her son might need in New York. First, we'll find out what's happening with him. I'll be there soon and learn everything. All right, I'm leaving that to you. Laura
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returned to work while Emma continued watching the broadcast. Then she sent me a message. Are you at the Basha Charity Gala? Get me a few celebrity autographs.
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When I returned to the table, I saw Emma's message. How did you find out?
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You can't hide anything from me. I'll try. I put my phone away. Daniel soon returned after completing the paperwork for his purchase of the bottle. I see you bought something, too. I decided to follow your example and support the
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charity. Daniel's expression darkened. A second expert had also identified his bottle as a modern reproduction. And how much did you spend? 15,000.
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Can I see it? I unrolled the painting on the table. The canvas depicted autumn mountains, a forest, a stream, and a small cemetery. The entire work conveyed a sense of loss. At the bottom were the signature of the English landscape
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painter Edmund Fairchild and the monogram of his close friend Thomas Redgrave. The problem was the date. The painting had been completed in 1709, although Fairchild had died a year earlier. Daniel noticed the discrepancy, too. Excellent purchase. The artist died
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in 1708 and painted the picture in 1709. He showed me the biography he had found.
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Apparently, he came back to life just for your canvas. The collector at the table frowned. The date truly doesn't match. You paid 15,000 for an obvious fake, Daniel continued. Madison looked at me. Is he right? The painting truly
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wasn't painted entirely by Fairchild. Daniel smirked. So, you admit it? No, it has two artists. I pointed to the second monogram. Fairchild began the painting while he was alive, but didn't have time to finish it. After his death, Thomas
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Redgrave completed the work. And how will you prove that? Red Graves correspondence mentions an unfinished landscape by his friend that he completed in his memory. The date matches. I pointed to the right side of the canvas. The brush work changes here
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and among the trees there's a freshly dug grave. That isn't a coincidence. It's a tribute to the deceased artist.
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The collector carefully examined the painting. So the first part belongs to Fairchild and the second to Redgrave.
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Exactly. That's why the canvas carries both his signature and the monogram. Daniel was no longer smiling. Applause sounded behind us. We turned and saw Adrien Velmore. Excellent analysis, he said. What is your name? Ryan Hayes.
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Velour nodded approvingly. I'll remember that name. You're right. Edmund Fairchild began the canvas, and after his death, Thomas Redgrave completed the work, said. Daniel's expression darkened. But the date was written after Fairchild's death. Could simply be a fake. It isn't a fake," Velmore said
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sharply. "The difference in the brush strokes, the signatures, and the paintings history all support Ryan's conclusion." Then he turned to me. "I want to buy it. Name your price." "$170,000." Silence fell over the table. "You paid $15,000 and now you're asking for $170?"
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Daniel smirked. "Agreed," Velmore replied. The smile disappeared from Daniel's face. We exchanged bank details and a few minutes later, the money arrived in my account. "Now the painting is mine," Velmore said with satisfaction. The collector at our table
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immediately offered. "Ill give you 215,000 for it. It isn't for sale." Velour carefully placed the canvas in its case and left. The collector watched him go and then turned to me. Ryan, our arrangement concerning my collection still stands. I'll send you the address
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and time tomorrow. All right. The actress seated nearby, Celeste Harlo, suddenly asked, "Mr. Hayes, could you examine one more item?" Her assistant brought over a small case.
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Inside was a comb decorated with gold and precious stones. "I was told it belonged to a European duchess," Celeste explained. I portrayed her in a television series, so the gift seemed symbolic. A price appeared above the ornament. $5,000.
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That was the value of the gold and stones. The comb itself was a modern piece. I picked it up and pretended to carefully study the details. Daniel interrupted again. You can rest assured, Miss Harlo. The comb is genuine. I'm not
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an expert in paintings, but jewelry is my profession. He spoke with the same confidence as before. Apparently, being humiliated once that evening had not been enough for him. Celeste looked at Daniel with distrust. After the incidents with the bottle and the
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painting, his opinion no longer seemed reliable. However, he held a high-ranking position at a major jewelry company. So the actress replied politely, "I'm sure you know jewelry better." "Of course, the comb is at least a hundred years old," Daniel
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declared confidently. "You should put it away before someone damages it." Celeste still asked me, "What do you think?" I returned the comb to its case. "The gold and stones are genuine, but the ornament itself was made no more than 5 years
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ago." "Five years," Daniel exclaimed indignantly. The gold shows signs of aging that would have taken decades or several hours of chemical treatment. I explained that a modern comb worth around $5,000 could be artificially aged, given a story about a duchess and
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sold for 10 times as much. Daniel's expression darkened. That isn't what happened here. Then we simply have different opinions. I had no intention of arguing, but Daniel decided to recover from his earlier humiliations.
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Let's make a bet. I say the comb is more than 50 years old. You say it's less than five. Let Velmore examine it. All right.
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The wager is $170,000 from each of us. That was exactly how much I had received for the painting.
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Madison intervened. Daniel, this is becoming ridiculous. You're only trying to determine the age of a piece of jewelry. Don't worry about him, he replied and looked at me. Or are you afraid? I'm only afraid you'll ruin the evening for everyone after you lose. I
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can afford that amount. Then we have a deal. The collector agreed to act as a witness and went to find Adrien Moore. A few minutes later, he returned with Adrien and Leonard Ashford, a board member of the New York Society of
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Antiquarians. Ashford shook my hand. Velour told me how you discovered the Fairchild and Red Grave painting.
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Impressive. Celeste handed the case to the experts. They examined the comb through magnifying glasses for about 5 minutes and then exchanged looks. The materials are high quality. Ashford said, "The gold is of high purity. The stones are natural and the workmanship
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is professional." Daniel visibly tensed. But gold this pure and cutting this precise only became available relatively recently. The expert continued. This is a modern ornament. What about the signs of oxidation? Daniel asked. Artificial patina. Velour replied. It was applied
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deliberately. He placed the comb back in its case. The workmanship is good. An expensive jewelry boutique could sell it for around $15,000.
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Moore looked at Daniel and added, "Perhaps your company should display it in one of its stores. Just leave out the story about the Duchess." The table fell silent. Daniel had lost $170,000 and completely destroyed his reputation as an expert. Daniel silently leaned
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back in his chair. Both experts had confirmed that the comb was modern, so there was no point in arguing. Before leaving, Adrien Moore addressed me. Come visit the New York Society of Antiquarians sometime. I certainly will.
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When the experts left, Celeste closed the case irritably. I looked at Daniel. It's time to settle the bet. I remember the terms since I did not want to add him to my contacts. Madison forwarded him my bank details. A few minutes
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later $170,000 arrived in my account. If you'd like to make another bet, just let me know, I said. This turned out to be more profitable than the auction. Daniel stood up. I need to step out. He left the table to the sound of Madison's
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quiet laughter. You made more than 300,000 in one evening, she remarked. At a charity event where everyone else came to spend money. Just a lucky evening.
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All of your evenings are lucky. That's the advantage of being a handsome man and a modest one, she added. Meanwhile, the auction continued. After the painting, they sold celebrity memorabilia, a champion's athletic shoes, a costume from a movie, and a
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screenplay signed by a famous director. I did not participate again. Before the final lot, Olivia leaned toward me.
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They're about to auction an uncut emeraldbearing rock. Look carefully. So that's why you brought me? You're only realizing that now? A covered cart was wheeled onto the stage. The host removed the cloth, revealing a large dark rock.
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A small test cut on one side exposed a rich green mineral. The final lot was donated by Basha Foundation chairwoman Valerie Stanh Hope. The host announced the preliminary valuation exceeds $700,000.
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The opening bid is $1. The bidding immediately reached $400,000. "What do you think?" Olivia asked. A number appeared above the rock. "4 $4,300,000.
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The size of the specimen did not justify such a value, even if it contained a highquality emerald. The price seemed too high. That meant the rock concealed something rare. It's extremely valuable," I replied. "How high should I bid? wait for the final offer and add
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another $150,000. Olivia looked at me. Regardless of the final amount, "Yes." Meanwhile, the bid reached $900,000.
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The host then added, "Mrs. Stanh Hope purchased this stone at an international exhibition in Colombia for approximately $1,100,000.
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Several gemologists valued it very highly. But today she donated the specimen to the foundation to increase the amount raised. After that bidding resumed the price quickly rose to 1,400,000 and then the hall fell silent. 1,400,000 going once. Olivia raised her paddle.
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1,550,000. The host recognized her immediately. Olivia Quinn of Empire Group offers $1,550,000. No other bids followed for the moment.
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Olivia calmly watched the stage, although she had just wagered an enormous amount on a stone whose true value she knew only from the word of a man who had worked for the company for less than a month. 1,550,000.
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Are there any other bids? Nolan Mercer, the owner of the Mercer jewelry chain, raised his paddle. 1,700,000.
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Olivia looked at me. Keep going, I said. 1,850,000. Daniel returned at that moment. Are you planning to pay almost 2 million for an uncut stone? I trust Ryan, Olivia replied calmly. Of course, it isn't his own money he's risking. Empire Group's
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decisions are none of your concern, I said. Mercer raised the bid to 2 million. Even if the stone was of good quality, the price was already considered excessive. Olivia looked at me again. More?
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Yes 2,150,000. A murmur swept through the hall. The guests had noticed that Olivia consulted me before every bid and began discussing who I was within Empire Group. The host addressed Mercer. Will you continue? He thought for a moment and then picked up
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the microphone. No. The stone goes to Miss Quinn. No other bids followed. 2,150,000 sold. Applause rang out. Olivia was invited onto the stage. Your bid has set a new Basha Charity Gala record. The host announced, "What would you like to
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say?" Olivia accepted the microphone. "Empire Group has supported charitable programs for many years. We created our own foundation for that purpose and will continue increasing its funding. I hope today's donations will help provide medical care to as many people as
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possible. After her short speech, she handed the microphone back to the host. And you don't regret spending 2 million at all. Money used to help people cannot be considered a loss. The audience applauded again. Valerie Stanh Hope, chairwoman of the Basha Foundation and
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donor of the stone.
Topics:price tagssupernatural fictionantiquesPaul Revereporcelainfantasy storyaudiobookRyanvision studyNew York
