Prologue. #2
Then there was a guy who looked a lot like Brian.
He was dressed in a worn leather jacket and jeans, his brown hair a bit messy, a nervous energy radiating from him as he nervously chewed on his bottom lip.
He glanced at Brian and gave him a short, sympathetic nod.
Brian knew this guy. He had probably fought for everything he had, just like Brian.
He was an ally in a room full of potential enemies.
The last one was different. He was tall with shaggy blonde hair and a carefree smile that seemed out of place in such a tense room.
He was in a simple hoodie and cargo pants, and he sat slumped comfortably in his chair, a book in his hand.
He wasn't worried about the others, or about winning.
He looked like he was just enjoying the ride.
He seemed to belong here, yet he was completely unbothered by the stakes. He was the most confusing one of all.
As Brian took a seat, the blonde receptionist came in with a tray, holding a glass of water for him.
She placed it on the table with a smile and glided back out of the room, leaving the five men in silence.
Brian took a sip of the water. It was ice cold, and it tasted like a fresh mountain stream. It was the best water he had ever had.
Five minutes stretched into an eternity. The silence in the room, broken only by the nervous fidgeting of the man in the leather jacket and the bored tapping of the two entitled guys, was thick with anticipation. The promise, of a half-million-dollar was just waiting to become real.
Then, the door opened.
She stepped in, and the room seemed to tilt on its axis.
She was one of the most beautiful women Brian had ever seen, a goddess who made the receptionist, look like a mere mortal.
Her hair was a cascade of vibrant red, a living flame that seemed to glow in the ambient light.
Her eyes, the color of perfect emeralds, held a depth that felt ancient, and her skin was a smooth, flawless porcelain.
Her body was a work of art, draped in a simple, flowing black dress that clung to her curves, hinting at a powerful femininity that was both alluring and intimidating.
For a moment, Brian was completely lost. His mind, so focused on the money and the competition, went blank.
God, he would give up the entire fortune for her, he thought.
But as it was right now, he didn't have the fortune, and this woman looked like she made more in a month than the half-million he’d been promised.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” she said, her voice a soft, melodic hum that seemed to resonate in his very bones. “I am Constance Fanning, and I will be the one reading the will today for you gents.”
He listened to every word, his mind a whirlwind of awe and a surprising, almost desperate attraction.
Every syllable she uttered was a soft, perfect note in a song he never wanted to end.
Her presence was magnetic, and she carried herself with a quiet authority that silenced the room more effectively than any security guard could.
“Now, first order of business.” She took a step toward the table, and a faint, sweet scent, like jasmine and rain, followed in her wake. She held a stack of envelopes, each one pristine and white. “As promised, five hundred thousand for coming here.”
She handed each of them an envelope. Brian’s hands trembled as he took his. He looked at the sealed envelope, the weight of the check inside feeling like a hundred pounds of gold. He had never, in his entire life, had this kind of money. It was more than he could have ever hoped for.
“Second order of business,” Constance continued, her voice firming slightly, though the softness never left. “There will, from this point on, be no cell phones allowed. Please turn them over to Miss Holly.”
As if on cue, the young blonde receptionist, Holly, stepped in with a large, woven basket. Her smile seemed a little more strained now.
Without a second thought, Brian reached into his pocket and pulled out his old phone, the cracked screen and worn case a testament to its long life.
He dropped it into the basket. The guy in the leather jacket, the one who looked like him, did the same.
The shaggy-haired guy, who hadn't even been looking at his phone, dropped it in with a casual shrug.
But the two entitled guys, the ones who had been tapping their feet and checking their expensive watches, immediately started to argue.
“This is ridiculous,” one of them, the one with the slicked-back hair, said. “You have no idea how important these are. This is a violation of our rights!”
“If my father hears about this treatment, your firm will be ruined,” the other one, the one with the polo shirt, threatened.
Constance just smiled, a small, knowing upturn of her lips that didn't reach her emerald eyes. She had heard these threats before. They were the empty promises of boys who had never had to fend for themselves.
“As it has been stated,” she said, her voice calm and even, “there are a number of requirements you had to follow. This was one of them. I bid you gentlemen goodbye and thank you for joining us.”
The two men didn't stop arguing, their faces turning a furious shade of red as they realized their bluster was having no effect. Miss Holly smiled faintly and turned, walking out of the room with the basket full of phones.
Constance watched them for a moment, her gaze as unyielding as marble. Then, with a single, elegant gesture, she pushed a button on the wall. A large security guard, built like a brick wall and with a face as impassive as stone, stepped into the room.
“You have been removed from the competition,” she said, her voice losing its honeyed tone and becoming as sharp as a diamond.
The guard gestured toward the door, his movements fluid and efficient. The two men, still yelling about their rights and their fathers, were led out of the room. The door closed behind them, and the silence that followed was even more profound than before.
Brian, sitting there with his check and a newfound sense of unease, realized the stakes were higher than he thought.
It was not just about winning the fortune anymore.
It was about surviving the game. He was left with only two other guys to compete with, a room that had just shrunk from five to three. The battle had just begun.
“Now, gentlemen… the third order of business,” Constance said, her voice soft and melodic once more, a stark contrast to the diamond-sharp tone she had used to dismiss the other men.
She looked at them one by one, her gaze lingering on each, a silent judgment in her emerald eyes.
“There are three of you here, but one of you will be leaving in a minute.”
Brian looked into her eyes, feeling a strange jolt.
God, he was utterly captivated by those eyes, a perfect, impossible green.
They were a whirlpool of beauty and mystery.
The silence in the room stretched, and Brian’s mind raced.
He had a check for five hundred thousand dollars in his pocket… enough to change his life forever.
“A choice is now given,” she continued, her voice a low, tantalizing whisper. “If you stand up right now and leave, you will receive another envelope.”
That was it. That was the last piece of the puzzle.
The first two guys had been removed because they couldn't give up control. This was a test of something else. He didn’t care about how much was in the next envelope.
He didn’t care about the fortune. He cared about the money in his pocket, the money he had already earned.
He smiled, a genuine, relieved expression spreading across his face.
He stood up.
“I have already received more than I could ever hope to make at my job,” he said, his voice clear and steady. He walked over to the door, his heart feeling lighter with every step. He didn’t look back at the other men, only at the door that represented his freedom. “I wish both of you good luck.”
The two other guys looked at him in pure, unadulterated confusion.
“Why would he do that?” the shaggy-haired guy, the one who didn't seem to care about winning, whispered. He had watched the entire spectacle with an amused detachment, and now, for the first time, he seemed genuinely surprised.
The guy in the leather jacket, the one who had fought just like Brian had, just shook his head, a look of grim determination on his face. He had a different goal, a different reason for being here.
Constance’s smile widened, a true, brilliant flash of warmth that lit up her entire face. "Why he did it was his choice," she said, her voice filled with a knowing admiration. She pulled out two more envelopes, sealed with a distinctive wax stamp. "Thank you for coming."
The shaggy-haired guy took his envelope with a shrug. The leather jacket guy took his, a look of solemn purpose on his face.
"What is this?" the shaggy-haired man asked, his voice laced with a newfound curiosity.
"A million dollars," she said simply. "That is all you get. Now, if you will excuse me, transportation will be provided for you gentlemen."
She turned and exited the room, leaving the two men in stunned silence.
On the other side of the door, Brian stood in a different world entirely. A world that was no longer just about him and his choice. He was facing four of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life. Constance stood beside him, her presence a comforting warmth.