’So this is the level they’re at... loud, confident... and completely blind to what actually matters.’

The smugness, the misplaced certainty. it wasn’t even worth getting annoyed over.

’Just... disappointing.’.

Stan looked at Leo the way a man might look at a particularly persistent fly.

He then looked away, already losing interest

It was a two-million-dollar house. One house. And Leo was preening over it like Elon Musk unveiling his next billion-dollar project. Stan genuinely couldn’t locate the wellspring from which this man’s sense of superiority flowed.

"Only a real tycoon like me could afford a house at this level." Leo’s voice was pitched specifically to carry across the showroom. "Some people are very good at pretending. buying out boutiques, throwing money around in front of girls, putting on a whole show. But the moment they walk into a place like this, the act falls apart. Suddenly they can’t even afford a one-bedroom."

He let the words hang for a beat, savoring them.

Then he turned to Stan with a thin, performative smile.

"Oh. sorry, I forgot you were standing right there. I wasn’t actually talking about you. Just thinking out loud."

The whole performance was pretense layered on pretense, served with a thick garnish of self-congratulation. Watching Stan absorb it without reacting only seemed to make Leo more pleased with himself.

Stan ignored him entirely. He turned back to the sand table, his gaze settling on a different unit. the one perched on the highest plot at the back of the development, distinguished from the surrounding villas by its larger footprint and the careful way the landscaping wrapped around it like a frame.

"How much per square meter for that one?" Stan asked, tapping the glass lightly.

Before the consultant could open her mouth, Leo cut in.

"Kid. That one isn’t for sale to the public. That building’s reserved. Only people with real connections can get in. Even I couldn’t buy one of those units, and I just dropped two-point-four million on a villa. So whatever cash you think you’ve scraped together. save yourself the embarrassment."

He wasn’t even lying about the building, technically. The unit Stan had pointed to was part of Four Seasons Garden’s most exclusive tier. the kind of property that didn’t appear in brochures, didn’t have a public price tag, and never went to anyone without the right name attached. Money alone couldn’t open that door. Money plus the right phone call from the right person could.

Which was, conveniently, exactly the kind of phone call Grayson Davies had made on Stan’s behalf less than two hours ago.

"I want to buy a place in that building," Stan said evenly.

The location was perfect. Top of the development, best aspect, full landscape view. A house at that tier wasn’t just expensive. it was a status object. Handing one to Sophie Youngs would land with weight. He’d asked for a Four Seasons Garden unit. he’d give her one no money on its own could buy. The kind of gift that didn’t just clear a bar. it relocated the bar to a different building.

And if it bumped her favorability up a few points along the way, all the better.

"Yo ho." Leo actually laughed out loud.

"You think you just walk in and buy it? Just like that? Take a look at yourself, kid. go find a mirror. Who do you think you are? What planet do you think you live on? No money, no name, no connections, but the standards of a crown prince. And not a single brain cell in service of any of it."

He delivered the whole speech with the smug self-satisfaction of an elder dispensing wisdom, completely unaware that every word he spoke was a more accurate description of himself than of his target.

"What business is it of yours whether I buy it or not?" Stan asked calmly.

Leo’s eyebrows lifted in theatrical surprise.

"Oh? Talking back now? Trying to put on a show in front of me?"

"That’s right." Stan’s voice didn’t change, but he didn’t speak much, he wasn’t about to have a pointless argument with this stupid guy in front of him

"Yo, yo, yo." Leo clapped his hands together once, slowly, with mocking delight.

"You really don’t understand basic Mandarin, do you? The. Building. Is. Not. For. Sale." He spaced each word out like he was talking to a small child. "Do you understand human language, or do I need to draw it for you?"

He’d said it three times now. Three. And the bicycle boy was still standing there with that same flat, unbothered expression, insisting he was going to buy a unit in the most exclusive building on the property.

At a certain point, Leo started to wonder if the kid was actually mentally impaired.

It hadn’t yet occurred to him, and wouldn’t, for several more minutes, that Stan wasn’t pretending to be confident. He wasn’t pretending to be anything. He was simply waiting.

"I’m buying a unit in that building today," Stan repeated. His tone hadn’t shifted by a single degree. "And I’m buying it right in front of you."

"The crow flies in the sky and you brag from the ground." Leo clicked his tongue, his amusement starting to curdle into genuine irritation. "That building is not for sale. Do you actually understand what those words mean, or should I find someone who speaks your language?"

Stan didn’t bother answering this time.

He turned away from Leo entirely, lifted a hand, and signaled politely to the consultant who had just stepped away from her previous client.

"Excuse me. When you have a moment."

"I’d like to purchase a unit in that building."

The consultant glanced at the model, then back at him, her smile still professional, but tinged with apology.

"I’m very sorry, sir. Units in that building aren’t available for public sale."

Stan regarded her for a brief second, expression unchanged.

"And if I said I was sent by Grayson Davies," he replied evenly, "would that still be the case?"

The shift was immediate.

Her smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, before her posture straightened, the air around her tightening into something far more attentive.

"Please, have a seat," she said quickly. "I’ll get the manager for you right away."

Stan gave a small nod, already turning away.

Grayson’s call had done exactly what it was meant to do.