A nine-thousand-dollar Omakase delivery on a night the sky was splitting open with rain. The tip was five hundred bucks. I was letting the quiet thrill of it soak in when I heard the laughter from inside the mansion. “He actually believes you were paralyzed in a car accident? That he has to work delivery jobs to support you? He even sold his father’s old signet ring?” “Can you imagine his face if he knew you were a trust fund princess worth billions, just playing a little poverty game with him? He’d probably cry himself to death.” I recognized Isabelle’s voice. She was toying with a wine glass, I could picture it. “Men like that… they’re born to serve. It’s in their blood.” “Besides,” a man’s voice added, one I knew all too well. “He deserved it. A little punishment for always trying to one-up me back in college. Tricking him was the least I could do.” I stood there in the pouring rain, a bitter smile twisting my lips. So, her two years of feigned sickness were just to help her childhood friend, Caleb, get revenge on me. Her shattered legs, her tragically deceased parents, her helpless tears—all of it was just a meticulously crafted lie. Finally, I pulled out my phone and called the woman I’d been fighting with for years, the CEO who also happened to be my mother. “Mom,” I said, the rain dripping from my hair into my eyes. “I lost. I’ll do the merger.” 1. I hung up just as Caleb Shaw’s voice drifted out from the mansion again. “It’s because my darling Isabelle spoils me rotten that she’d teach that bastard a lesson for me. And I couldn’t be happier.” His long, elegant fingers tipped Isabelle’s chin up. I saw it then. On his ring finger, gleaming under the chandelier light, was my father’s signet ring. Isabelle giggled, then lightly nipped his fingertip with her teeth. “You’re terrible.” I watched as the legs that were supposed to be useless, the legs I had carried up and down four flights of stairs every day, crossed elegantly on the coffee table in front of her. Not a trace of injury. The heavy, white cast that had fooled me for more than two years seemed to mock me from its place in the corner of the room, stark and obscene under the warm light. Clutching the insulated delivery box, I knocked on the door. The heads of everyone inside snapped in my direction. The boisterous living room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. I walked toward Isabelle, my soaked sneakers leaving a trail of dark footprints on the polished marble. Her voice was tight, strained. Her eyes darted around, refusing to meet mine. “Noah? What are you doing here?” she stammered. “I… I was just having a little get-together with some old friends…” I ignored her, my gaze fixed on the ring on Caleb’s finger. “The ring. Give it back.” The smile on Isabelle’s face froze, as if she couldn’t comprehend my cold tone. She instinctively wheeled her chair closer—the prop still ready at a moment’s notice—and tried to soothe me with that practiced, gentle voice. “Noah, just listen to me…” “Listen to what?” I cut her off, a grimace pulling at my lips that was more pain than smile. “Listen to you explain how you so kindly helped me sell it to Mr. Shaw for a premium price? Or are we going to talk about the miracle? About how your paralyzed legs just happened to start working again tonight?” Isabelle’s face went white. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. The silence in the room deepened until Caleb broke it with a contemptuous snort. He rose to his feet, his leather loafers silent on the thick rug, and sauntered over to me. He deliberately held up the hand wearing the ring. “Isabelle gave this to me,” he said, drawing out the word ‘gave.’ His eyes were filled with a triumphant, goading light. “You like it so much you want it back?” Isabelle’s face was a mask of pale panic. “Caleb, stop it! Noah, he…” “He what?” Caleb interrupted, his voice sharp with impatience as his eyes roamed over my drenched, cheap delivery uniform. “You want it? Fine. For Isabelle’s sake, I’ll consider it. But not for what you sold it for. I’ve worn it. So how about a friends-and-family price? Fifty thousand. Cash. Right now. You hand over the cash, you get the ring.” Fifty thousand dollars? After I’d walked away from my mother’s empire, I’d poured everything I had into Isabelle’s “treatments.” I’d sold or pawned every last thing of value my father had left me. Right now, I didn’t even have five hundred dollars to my name. I looked at Caleb’s smug face, then at Isabelle. She avoided my gaze, tacitly approving of his cruelty. A cold hand squeezed my heart, crushing the last wisp of warmth I held for our past. In that instant, it all turned to ash. “Fine.” “I’ll buy it.” I just wanted the last piece of my father back. Then I could walk away from these people and never, ever look back. “You’ll buy it?” Caleb echoed, as if I’d just told the funniest joke in the world. He clutched his stomach, laughing dramatically. He then pointed at the nine-thousand-dollar Omakase box still in my hand. “You couldn’t make fifty grand if you delivered food for the rest of your life. Look at that thing. Have you ever eaten sushi this expensive? Hell, have you ever even seen it up close? Do you think you deserve to?” Before I could react, he lunged forward, snatched the insulated box from my grip, and slammed it onto the marble floor. CRACK! The wooden box shattered. The lid flew open, and a king’s ransom in perfect, top-grade sushi spilled across the floor. Glistening pieces of otoro, glistening uni, perfect cubes of A5 wagyu… all of it scattered in a disgusting mess. Caleb stared down at the ruin, then ground the heel of his shoe into a piece of priceless bluefin tuna, smearing it into the grout. “See that? Nine grand. I can throw it away without a second thought. But a pathetic loser like you? You’ll never have that freedom, will you?” He sneered. “You’ll work your fingers to the bone and never afford a single bite of something like this. The best you can do is smell it. That’s the difference between you and me. Understand?” The room erupted in a chorus of jeers and mocking laughter. “Exactly! A delivery boy trying to pick a fight with Caleb?” “God, he’s pathetic. Born to be poor. Talking about fifty grand… maybe he can find a rich old lady at a nursing home to pay for it!” “I mean, he’s not bad-looking. The cougars love that tortured artist vibe.” Caleb soaked in the validation, his grin widening. He glanced at the ring on his finger, then back at my miserable state, his expression one of utter disgust. “Isabelle told me this ring of yours was some priceless heirloom. But you’re broke as a joke. How valuable could it really be? Probably a cheap knockoff.” He scoffed. “You’re the only one who thinks this piece of junk is a treasure.” As he spoke, he worked the ring off his finger. Then, before anyone—including Isabelle—could react, he slid open the glass door to the terrace, and with a flick of his wrist, he threw it. The signet ring carved a small, dark arc through the rain. With a tiny splash, it vanished into the churning water of the decorative river that ran alongside the mansion. “NO!” The word tore from my throat. It was the last thing my father ever gave me. My body moved before my mind could catch up. I sprinted for the terrace like a madman, ready to vault the railing and plunge into the freezing water. “NOAH!” Isabelle screamed. In a flash, she was on her feet, lunging from the wheelchair with a speed that belied two years of "paralysis." She tackled me from behind, her arms locking around my waist, dragging me back from the edge. “Let go of me! Isabelle, let me GO!” I struggled against her, my eyes fixed in desperation on the murky water that had swallowed the last glint of my father’s ring. Cold rain and hot tears mingled on my face, blurring my vision. “Calm down! Are you going to kill yourself over a stupid ring?!” Isabelle’s voice was laced with a flicker of panic, but it was quickly overwhelmed by an impatient anger at my "irrational" behavior. A stupid ring? The only thing I had left of my father. Thrown away like a piece of trash by the man she loved. In that moment, all the anger, the grief, the humiliation, coalesced into a cold, dead calm. I stopped struggling, my body going rigid in her arms. “We’re done.” My voice was terrifyingly quiet. Isabelle’s body went stiff. Then she laughed, a shaky, incredulous sound. “Noah, don’t be ridiculous. I know you’re upset about the ring. I’ll make Caleb apologize! We can…” “I’m not being ridiculous.” I interrupted her, prying her fingers from my waist, one by one. I turned to face her, to look at the face that now filled me with nothing but disgust. “Two years, Isabelle. Aren’t you tired of the act? My father’s ring is gone. And any last feeling I had for you is gone with it. How much longer were you planning to play this game?” Her eyes flickered. Instantly, she put on the mask I knew so well—the fragile, helpless victim. “Noah, what are you talking about? My legs… they were really hurt, it’s just… they’ve gotten so much better with the treatments… Are you leaving me? I knew it. You always resented me, you were just looking for an excuse to abandon me!” She was trying to trap me again, using the same old guilt trips about her "paralysis" and my "abandonment." Watching her flawless performance, I could only feel a weary sense of the absurd. I didn't have the energy to argue, to explain, to say another word to her. I just bent down and picked up the empty, soiled delivery box from the floor. Without another glance at her or the crowd of hyenas on the terrace, I turned and walked back into the deluge. Behind me, I heard Caleb’s confused voice. “Isabelle, what’s the big deal? The secret’s out. You’re not actually upset for that psycho, are you?” “Don’t tell me a billionaire like you actually fell for a delivery boy.” I didn’t hear her answer. Since we were done, I didn’t need the job anymore. I called my manager to quit. He was surprised. “Noah? What happened? You’re one of my best guys. Aren’t you saving up for your girlfriend’s treatment?” “She’s better,” I said, a hollow smile on my face. “Completely cured.” “Hey! That’s fantastic news!” the manager said, his voice full of genuine happiness for me. “See? What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger! She’s going to treat you like a king now. You’ve earned it, kid. Your good karma is finally paying off.” Good karma. I laughed, a silent, bitter sound. Of course, it was Isabelle herself who had recommended this job to me—this job of baking in the sun and freezing in the rain, of being looked down upon and treated like dirt. She’d said it was to “help me carry the burden.” In reality, it was just another way to make me “suffer a little,” to get revenge for her darling Caleb. Well, it was over now. I packed my few belongings. The next day, I took my duffel bags and cardboard boxes to the most opulent hotel in the city. I must have been a sight, dragging my life’s possessions across the gleaming marble lobby. My presence was so out of place it immediately drew a constellation of stares. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn’t our hardest-working delivery boy, Noah!” The sharp, grating voice behind me made my stomach turn. It was Caleb. He and his pack of sycophants were here, too. I kept walking, ignoring him, but he had no intention of letting me go. He and his friends surrounded me, grinning like they were watching a monkey at the zoo. “What is this?” Caleb pinched his nose dramatically, as if I smelled. “A delivery boy? In the Grand Sovereign? Security! Security! Has your clientele really sunk this low? You’re letting in any stray dog off the street now? It’s filthy!” His friends chimed in immediately. “Seriously, he’s going to ruin the carpets!” “Oh, come on, Caleb, you forgot. The man is above material wealth, remember? So, what’s the plan, Noah? Now that your crippled girlfriend finally dumped you, you’re here to troll for a sugar mama?” The cacophony of their laughter echoed in the vast lobby. I listened to their twisted version of the truth, my eyes locking on Caleb’s, my jaw tight. “Get out of my way.” “You’re telling me to get out of your way? Ha!” Caleb’s face darkened, and he shoved me, hard. Caught off guard, I stumbled backward, my back slamming into a massive display cabinet filled with priceless vintages of wine and spirits. The entire structure shuddered violently. CRASH! TINKLE! Dozens of beautifully packaged, exorbitantly priced bottles—Château Lafite, Romanée-Conti, Macallan Rare Cask—cascaded to the floor, exploding in a shower of glass and liquid. The sound shocked the lobby into silence. Everyone stared, wide-eyed, at the devastation. Then, the silence was shattered by an even louder burst of laughter. “Hahaha! Look at that! You’re in for it now, you little pauper!” “Someone do the math! How many treasures did the hick just break?” “One bottle of Lafite, two Romanée-Conti, three Macallan Rare… oh my God, what’s the total on that?” “Got to be a few million, at least! Hahaha, they could sell his organs and it wouldn’t cover the cost!” “Can’t pay?” Caleb said, strolling forward with a malicious grin. “Simple. Get on your knees and lick the floor clean. For every drop you lick up, I’ll cover a drop’s worth of the bill. Can’t finish? Then you just keep licking. You lick until we’re satisfied! Hahaha!” The vile suggestion was met with enthusiastic agreement. “Yeah, get on your knees and lick it!” “Let’s see the delivery king lick the floor!” A couple of Caleb’s cronies closed in, grabbing my arms and forcing me down toward the puddle of expensive liquor and glittering glass shards. “Kneel! Lick it up!” “Do it, or we call the cops and have you thrown in jail right now!” A wave of pain and crushing humiliation washed over me. They twisted my arms behind my back, grabbed my hair, and forced my head down. With every ounce of strength I had left, I wrenched my head up and screamed, my voice raw. “I’m Noah Sterling! The sole heir to the Sterling Group! Anne Sterling is my mother!” A brief pause. Then, an even more violent explosion of ridicule. “Did he say he’s the heir to the Sterling Group?” “The billionaire CEO is his mom? Has he finally lost his mind? Did the shock break his brain?” “Yeah, right! If you’re a Sterling, then I’m the President of the United States!” Caleb was laughing so hard he was bent over, tears streaming from his eyes. “The Sterling heir? The Sterling heir is the owner of the Grand Sovereign Hotel Group. He’s engaged to my sister, Sophia Shaw! I won’t even make you call your mommy. Why don’t you get your fiancée to come down here and teach us a lesson, huh?” “He doesn’t even think before he lies. This is priceless.” In the midst of this ultimate degradation, a familiar figure appeared. It was Isabelle. She walked toward us, her dress flowing, her chin held high. When she saw me, a flicker of surprise and pity crossed her face. “Noah? Caleb? What’s going on here?” She surveyed the wreckage and my pathetic state on the floor, her brow furrowing. Then, her gaze settled on me, her voice dripping with condescension. “Noah, what have you done now? Did you cause more trouble?” She sighed. “But… if you ask me for help… if you beg me, for old times’ sake… maybe I can take care of this little mess for you…” The word “you” had barely left her lips when a commotion erupted at the hotel entrance. The crowd of onlookers parted instinctively. “I think that’s Sophia Shaw. She’s gorgeous.” “Of course she is. She was raised to be a queen. That kind of presence can’t be faked.” A woman in a perfectly tailored black dress, a chic blazer draped over her shoulders, strode into the lobby. Her eyes scanned the scene and locked onto me instantly. The moment she saw me being held on the floor, covered in filth, her face hardened into a mask of cold fury. “What,” she said, her voice dangerously low, “do you think you are doing?!”