Chapter Sixty-NineHenry chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, love. I’m not hiding anything from you. Have you noticed how hard I’ve been working these past few days?I’ve been staying up late, making deals, and trying to get everything in order. I’ll tell you everything soon, I promise.” He paused, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Besides, you need this car for work, and I don’t. It’s my way of saying thank you for all your support.”Jasmine looked at him, her heart swelling. “Thank you for providing for us when I had nobody. You stood by me even when my family was against us. I’ll always be grateful.”As he spoke, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I know you’ve been working hard, Henry,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I believe you’ll be blessed with a good job and a better position in society.”“But I have a question, though,” she added, her brows furrowing slightly. “What will I do with the Mustang that Prince gave me? The one from Dubai?”Henry sighed,
Chapter Seventy Henry’s brow furrowed as he watched Damon’s face twist in frustration. Damon was pacing, clutching his phone tightly, his voice taut with anger and panic.“What do you mean there’s nothing here? The shelves are empty!” Damon shouted, his voice trembling. “I put my heart and soul into this opening. I can’t believe this… There was supposed to be enough stock to fill this place.”Henry stepped closer, his hand resting on Damon’s shoulder, grounding him. “What happened, man?”Damon’s eyes were wide, desperate. “The truck carrying the meds? It got into an accident on the way here. Logistics completely failed. And now? I’ve got nothing to show. Nothing, Henry.” His voice cracked, his frustration laced with the sting of near-tears. “They’ll cut that ribbon, and there will be empty shelves behind it. It’s humiliating.”Henry could see the weight of this moment bearing down on his friend. Damon had put everything into this launch; failure wasn’t an option. He was a man who pr
Chapter Seventy One Damon and Henry sat together on the patio, chatting like old friends. Damon’s wife, Jasmine, moved through the small gathering, offering drinks and food with a warm smile. The evening was going smoothly—laughter, the gentle clinking of glasses, the warmth of friendship filling the air.Suddenly, the peace was shattered by the roar of an engine. A sleek sports car’s rumble grew louder, turning heads. The Ferrari Turbo skidded to a dramatic stop at the end of the driveway, its tires smoking slightly, the metallic red paint gleaming in the fading sunlight. All eyes turned to watch.Henry frowned, recognizing the theatrics. Damon sighed quietly, sharing a knowing look with Henry. “It’s Alexander, isn’t it?” Henry muttered.“It’s always Alexander,” Damon confirmed with a resigned nod.Alexander stepped out slowly, as if each movement was a carefully crafted show. He wore a crisp designer suit, sunglasses perched on his nose even though the sun was nearly gone. His ch
Chapter Seventy TwoAlexander smirked, leaning back with his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Oh, I’m sure of this bet. For certain, I’m going to win. I’ve spent more on my car than you could dream of in ten lifetimes, Henry. This isn’t just any Ferrari—it’s got power that car of yours couldn’t even handle. I’ll enjoy watching you eat my dust.”Henry met Alexander’s gaze, unwavering. “Alright, then. I’ll race you. But on one condition.” He paused, allowing the murmurs of the small crowd to die down as Alexander raised an eyebrow, curious.“Condition? What, you planning to chicken out already?” Alexander taunted, his grin widening.Henry’s voice was calm, steady. “Whoever loses,” he said, “drives their car into the river at the end of the junction.”A hush fell over the gathering, and for a moment, Alexander’s grin faltered. His eyes darted to his Ferrari, and a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. He knew precisely how much his custom-built Ferrari cost. It was no ordinar
Chapter Seventy Three Henry who is now used to people insulting himJust ignored Alexander as he focused on the road while ignoring the way Alexander still tried to cheat him by bringing out exhaust smoke to cover his vision. Henry’s Benz, while not as loud, accelerated with a smooth power, gaining speed quickly and steadily. The car felt stable beneath him, its wheels gripping the road confidently as he leaned forward, focused entirely on the path ahead. He didn’t need Alexander’s flash or noise; he needed precision, control. Every turn, every shift was deliberate.The air was thick with the smell of hot engines, fuel, and the faint metallic scent of the road as both cars tore through the street. Alexander’s Ferrari glistened under the streetlights, a red streak of fury slicing through the evening. He glanced at his rearview mirror, his smirk widening as he saw Henry’s Benz a few lengths behind.“Come on, Henry,” Alexander muttered to himself, a laugh bubbling in his chest. “Is
Chapter Seventy Four Alexander shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the crowd as he tried to come up with an excuse. “Look, I… I think I’ve got some kind of stomach pain,” he stammered, clutching his abdomen and faking a grimace. “That’s why I let Henry win. I didn’t want him to feel too bad, you know. Figured I’d give him a little pity victory.”The crowd, seeing through his weak excuse, began to murmur and laugh. Someone shouted, “Are you scared of losing, Alexander? Can’t you keep your word?”Others joined in, their voices growing louder as they booed him. Alexander’s face turned a deep shade of red, and his jaw clenched in frustration. The taunts and jeers rang in his ears, each one a dagger to his pride.“Fine!” he snapped, throwing his hands up. “I’ll do it! It’s just a car, anyway. I’ve got several of them. Losing one is nothing.” But despite his words, his voice betrayed him, tinged with bitterness. His prized Ferrari was more than just a car; it was a symbol of his status, and the
Chapter Seventy FiveThe crowd stood transfixed, mouths agape, as the impossible unfolded before them. Jasmine’s Benz, which had sunk to the river’s depths just moments ago, was now rising steadily, supported by hidden floaters that popped out around it, keeping it buoyant. The car glistened under the lights, looking pristine, without a single scratch marring its surface. It bobbed gently on the water’s surface, gleaming like new, the only sign it had been submerged being the droplets sliding off and a faint coating of mud on the tires.Henry calmly pulled a sleek remote from his pocket, his thumb hovering over the control. With a slight, calculated movement, he pressed a button, and to everyone’s astonishment, the Benz responded, gliding smoothly toward the shore, its engine humming softly as it drove itself out of the water, guided by artificial intelligence.“This… can’t be!” Alexander stammered, his face pale as he stared in utter disbelief. His jaw dropped as he watched the car
Chapter Seventy Six Damon’s wife turned her nose up in disgust, her lip curling as she caught sight of the tag on the clay pot. “Charlie’s name,” she muttered, her voice filled with disdain. “I’m not surprised.” She raised her voice so the entire room could hear, her tone dripping with condescension. “If you can’t afford a proper gift, kindly don’t bring any gift at all,” she sneered, rolling her eyes before tossing the pot aside. Alexander’s face lit up with renewed purpose, spotting his chance to get back at Henry for his earlier embarrassment. He stepped forward, crossing his arms and smirking. “I knew it. How stupid and insulting to bring a toy clay pot to a prestigious gathering like this,” he jeered, his laughter sharp and mocking. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Henry.” Alexander’s laugh grew louder, feeding off the gasps and curious murmurs of the crowd. Damon’s wife, feeling her own irritation rise, picked up the pot again, glaring at it as if it had personally of