CHAPTER 2: THE ROOM THAT STARTED TO SHIFT
“You should leave,” Sophie said quietly now.
Not embarrassed.
Annoyed.
Like I was clutter.
Her friends smirked.
“Yeah, this is painful to watch.”
I nodded once.
Slowly.
Then said:
“Okay.”
And I placed the ring on the table.
Soft click.
That sound changed everything.
Because Sophie leaned in immediately.
“You know what? Keep it,” she said. “It suits your budget.”
More laughter.
Her boyfriend—some investment banker—leaned back smugly.
“If you’re going to propose, at least have standards.”
I looked at him.
And smiled.
That was the first crack.
Because I said:
“You think this is about money.”
He scoffed.
“What else would it be?”
I didn’t answer.
I turned instead.
And walked toward the elevator.
Sophie rolled her eyes.
“Finally.”
Her friends laughed again.
But as the elevator doors opened—
a man in a black suit stepped out.
He wasn’t staff.
Everyone felt it immediately.
Even Sophie stopped laughing.
The man looked at me.
Then at the table.
Then at the ring.
And went completely still.
“…Where did you get that ring?”
Sophie frowned.
“Excuse me?”
The man ignored her.
He walked closer.
Slow.
Careful.
Like the air had become heavier.
Then he whispered:
“That ring was declared missing from federal auction inventory.”
Silence.
Sophie laughed nervously.
“What are you talking about? It’s a cheap ring.”
The man didn’t look at her.
He looked at me.
And said:
“Sir… why are you wearing a restricted prototype?”
The entire rooftop went quiet.
Sophie blinked.
“Sir?”
Her boyfriend stood up.
“What is this guy talking about?”
The man finally turned.
And said the sentence that broke reality in half:
“That ring belongs to a classified inheritance claimant.”
A pause.
May you like
Then—
“Someone everyone thought was dead.”
