"Mr. Morrison, why didn't you say you were a VIP client?"
Hartley's smile was bright enough to light the whole showroom. Behind him, Marcus looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.
Jake slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Didn't think I needed to announce it."
"Of course, of course." Hartley gestured toward the back. "Please, let's get you comfortable. Lily will handle your paperwork, but first, let me show you to our VIP lounge. We have refreshments, a place to dry off properly..."
"I'm fine here." Jake glanced at Lily. "How long for the paperwork?"
Lily had her tablet ready. Professional. Efficient. "For three vehicles, probably forty-five minutes. We need to process the payment, prepare the titles, arrange delivery..."
"Can you handle it without me here?"
She blinked. "Well, yes, but you'll need to sign..."
"I'll come back." Jake pulled out his phone again. Checked the countdown. Six hours and eighteen minutes left. "Text me when it's ready. I have other things to take care of."
Hartley's smile faltered slightly. "Mr. Morrison, are you sure? We can have everything brought to you. Refreshments, a change of clothes..."
Jake was already walking toward the door. "I'll be back in a few hours."
He pushed through the glass doors into the night air. The rain had stopped completely now. The city glowed with streetlights and neon.
His scooter sat in the parking lot looking pathetic next to the luxury cars visible through the showroom windows.
Jake climbed on. Pulled out his phone again.
The system message was waiting.
**TASK PROGRESS: $890,000 SPENT**
**REMAINING TO COMPLETE TASK: $110,000**
**TIME REMAINING: 06:17:33**
Jake's stomach dropped. He'd thought buying the cars would finish the task. But the system only counted the vehicle prices, not the taxes and fees. He still had over a hundred thousand to spend.
Six hours.
His mind raced. What else could he buy? More cars? Another dealership?
Then he remembered.
Maison Luxe.
The memory hit him like a punch. One year ago. Elena had dragged him there for her birthday. She'd wanted a dress. Something expensive. Something that would make her feel special.
The boutique was high-end. Designer labels. The kind of place where a simple blouse cost more than Jake's monthly rent.
Elena had found a dress she loved. Red. Elegant. The price tag said $2,400.
Jake had checked his bank account right there in the store. He'd had $340 to his name.
The store manager, Rebecca, had watched the whole thing. Watched Jake's face fall. Watched him try to explain to Elena that he couldn't afford it. Not right now. Maybe next month if he picked up extra shifts.
Elena's expression had frozen. Embarrassment turning to anger.
Rebecca had smiled. Cold. Condescending.
"Perhaps you'd be more comfortable at one of our outlet locations," she'd said. "They cater to more... budget-conscious shoppers."
Elena had walked out without a word. Didn't speak to Jake for the rest of her birthday.
Two weeks later, she'd shown up wearing that exact red dress. Said Victor had bought it for her as a congratulations gift for a work promotion.
That should have been Jake's first clue.
He pulled up the boutique's address. Fifteen-minute drive. Still open for another two hours.
Perfect.
Jake started the scooter and headed downtown.
Maison Luxe occupied the ground floor of a glass tower in the fashion district. The windows displayed mannequins in clothes that cost more than cars. Everything was white and gold and carefully lit to look like art.
Jake parked his scooter right in front. A valet stationed near the door gave him a look of pure horror.
"Sir, you can't park that here."
Jake ignored him. Pushed through the boutique's front door.
The interior was exactly as he remembered. White marble floors. Gold fixtures. Soft classical music playing from hidden speakers. Everything smelled like expensive perfume and exclusivity.
A few customers browsed the racks. Well-dressed. The kind of people who belonged here.
Jake stood in the entrance, still dripping slightly, and looked around.
A saleswoman near the register noticed him first. Her smile started to form, then died when she saw his appearance. She touched the arm of another employee. Whispered something.
From a door behind the main counter, Rebecca emerged.
She'd aged a year, but Jake recognized her immediately. Tall. Severe haircut. Expression like she'd smelled something unpleasant.
Her eyes landed on Jake. Confusion flickered across her face. Then recognition.
Then disgust.
"You." She crossed the floor in sharp clicks of expensive heels. "What are you doing here?"
"Shopping." Jake's voice was calm.
"Shopping." Rebecca's laugh was harsh. "In those clothes? Dripping water all over my floor? I don't think so."
The other customers were starting to notice. Staring. A woman clutched her designer purse tighter.
"I remember you," Rebecca continued. "You're the one who wasted my time last year. Couldn't even afford a simple dress for your girlfriend."
"Wife," Jake corrected quietly. "She was my wife."
"Was?" Rebecca's eyebrow arched. "Well, I'm not surprised she left. A woman with taste needs a man who can provide for her."
The words stung more than Jake expected. Because she was right. Elena had left. Had chosen Victor and his money over Jake and his struggle.
But things were different now.
"I'm here to buy something," Jake said.
Rebecca crossed her arms. "We don't offer charity here. And frankly, you're disturbing my clientele. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"I have money."
"I'm sure you do." Her tone dripped sarcasm. "But Maison Luxe caters to a certain standard of customer. We have outlet locations that would better suit your..." She looked him up and down. "Situation."
Jake pulled out his phone. The cracked screen lit up. He opened his banking app.
"I want to buy some things from your VIP section."
Rebecca didn't even glance at his phone. "The VIP section is by appointment only. For established clients. Now please leave before I call security. Again."
That word. Again. Like he was some repeat problem that kept showing up.
Jake's jaw tightened. He'd had enough of being dismissed. Enough of being looked at like garbage.
He turned toward the back of the store. Past the regular racks. Toward a roped-off section with its own lighting. The VIP area. Where the really expensive pieces lived.
"Sir!" Rebecca's voice went sharp. "You can't go back there!"
Jake ducked under the velvet rope. The VIP section was smaller. More exclusive. Each piece displayed like a museum exhibit.
He pulled a dress off the rack at random. Checked the tag. $8,000.
Grabbed another. $12,000.
A third. $15,000.
Rebecca appeared beside him, face red. "Put those down immediately! Those are designer originals. You can't just..."
"I'm buying them." Jake kept pulling items. Dresses. Suits. Accessories. Everything within reach. "All of them."
"All of them?" Rebecca's laugh was shrill now. "Do you have any idea what these cost?"
"Don't care."
"Sir, I'm calling security right now."
"Call them." Jake had an armful of clothes. He walked back to the main counter and dumped them on top. "Ring these up."
The saleswoman at the register looked at Rebecca with wide eyes. Rebecca's face had gone from red to purple.
"This is absurd," Rebecca said. "Those items total over fifty thousand dollars. You can't..."
"Then I'll take more." Jake went back to the VIP section. Started grabbing everything he could carry. Shoes. Bags. A leather jacket that probably cost more than his scooter.
Other customers had stopped shopping completely. Everyone was watching now.
Jake made three trips. The counter was buried under merchandise.
Rebecca stood with her arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line. "Are you quite finished with this performance?"
"How much?" Jake asked the saleswoman at the register.
She looked at Rebecca. Rebecca gave a sharp nod.
The saleswoman started scanning items with shaking hands. Each beep felt like a small victory.
The total climbed. Fifty thousand. Seventy thousand. Ninety thousand.
"One hundred and twelve thousand dollars," the saleswoman said quietly.
Not enough.
Jake looked around. His eyes landed on a display near the window. A collection of watches under glass. Each one probably worth a fortune.
"What about those?"
Rebecca followed his gaze. Her expression flickered. "Those are vintage collector's pieces. They're not for..."
"How much for all of them?"
"All..." Rebecca's voice came out strangled. "Those six watches total nearly ninety thousand dollars. But they're display pieces. Part of our heritage collection. They're not for sale."
"Everything's for sale." Jake walked to the display. "I'll take them too."
Rebecca moved to block him. "Absolutely not. Those pieces are..."
"I'm buying everything in your VIP section." Jake's voice cut through her protest. "The clothes. The accessories. The watches. Everything."
"That's over two hundred thousand dollars worth of merchandise!"
"Then I'll pay a fifty percent rush fee." Jake met her eyes. "Ring it up."