Chapter 1

My stepfather and his foster son seized my luxury goods and sold them off, and in the end, greedy for more, they went after my father's keepsakes.

In my anger, I took the two of them to court, laying out the evidence to put them behind bars for good.

My wife, still abroad at a major conference, heard about it, and though she had never once bent the rules for anyone, she did the unthinkable and abandoned a room full of executives to rush home.

She hired the best lawyer to overturn the case for my stepfather, and even claimed that all those luxury goods had been bought by her, so if I could use them, the foster son could too.

Humiliated in front of everyone, I filed for divorce on the spot. That was when my wife finally panicked, leaving her foster brother behind and chasing after me to smooth things over.

"There, honey, don't be angry anymore."

"The things Vincent Delgado took are just junk to me. I only helped him because I didn't want outsiders calling you heartless and cruel, pointing fingers at you behind your back."

To show she was sorry, she took me to the most luxurious mall and reserved three floors of designer counters so I could buy whatever I wanted.

"Honey, those outfits and that watch are nice. Only someone as distinguished as you deserves them."

Right away, she had the staff cut off the tags and told me to go in and try them on.

But when I came back out in them, she was gone.

I waited almost until closing time, and still she didn't come back.

With no other choice, I got ready to pull out a card and pay.

Only to find that every card in my wallet had vanished.

……

1

"Mr. Henson, will you be paying by card or through the app?"

I spent more than ten minutes digging through my wallet. No, to be precise, I stood there frozen for ten minutes.

I remembered putting several different cards in my wallet before I left the house. Why were they all gone?

The one who was supposed to pay was Althea Harding, but she was nowhere to be found.

I made a full hundred calls, and every one of them sank without a trace.

Right then, it felt like a pile of stone had lodged against my chest, a thousand pounds of it, and I couldn't shake it.

The salesgirl was the type who read the room. She'd gone from her earlier fawning respect to rolling her eyes at me now.

"Mr. Henson, our store has already stayed open past closing for you."

"Past closing is the least of it! You still haven't paid for the three floors you said you'd reserve, out of your own mouth."

Morton Lambert, the mall's manager, came in with a good number of security guards.

They blocked every exit, as if afraid I'd seize the chance to run.

I couldn't hold back my contempt. I, Neal Henson, was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Whatever I wanted, I got.

How would I ever run off broke and disgraced?

But it was true, I was the one who'd announced I'd reserve three floors. Althea had wanted to give me that backing, wanted me to declare it in front of everyone, to show off what a loving wife she was.

And now?

I couldn't even find where Althea had gone.

I set down my wallet and stood, lifting my head to meet the impatient salesgirl and Manager Lambert.

"Watch your tone with me. I'm not some deadbeat skipping out on the bill."

"I'll pay through the app!"

But when I walked over to the counter to pay, the transfer wouldn't go through.

I froze for a second, then tried a few more times. Same result every time.

The salesgirl dropped all pretense of courtesy, her face going cold. "Mr. Henson, what do you propose we do now?"

"You cut the tags off three of this season's suits, worth forty million all together. Now your cards are gone, and the app won't work either."

"What are you going to pay with?"

"Plus the cost of reserving three floors. That's fifty million total."

"You're the husband of Ms. Harding, the richest woman in New York, after all. Don't tell me you can't cover a trifling amount like this?"

The words had barely left his mouth when a burst of shrill cheering rose up from downstairs.

"Wow, Vincent is so lucky! Ms. Harding gave him a full thirty million in clothes and watches."

"Oh my God! I could only dream of things like this, and here it is in real life."

Through the shrill noise came Vincent's smug voice.

"Althea's always saying I'm stuck wearing the hand-me-downs my big brother didn't want. She felt so bad for me, so she got me these nice things."

"Oh my God! I had no idea Vincent had it so hard."

"He may be a foster son, but he's still a young master of the Henson family! And there he is wearing Neal's castoffs."

"By the look of it, Neal must be using his position to keep him down at every turn."

Right on cue, Vincent put on that wronged, hesitant look, as if there was something he wouldn't let himself say, which only convinced the outsiders that what they'd just said was fact.

My hand tightened into a fist without thinking, and I was about to walk out when Manager Lambert stopped me.

"Mr. Henson, you haven't paid your bill! And just where do you think you're going?"