The soft morning light slipped through the curtains, brushing against his face and waking him from sleep.
He picked up his phone to check the time. It was already 7:00 a.m.
Looking down, he saw Effie resting her head softly on his chest.
'We overdid it,'
She stirred beside him ,her eyes opening slowly.
"Good morning." Without letting go, she snuggled closer.
"Good morning," Kissing her hair, he caught the scent that still reminded him of their passionate time.
They let time pass, finding comfort in each other's presence.
"Let's take a bath together," she playfully grabbed his hand and guided it to her slit. "I want you to wash me."
Terrence smiled wryly.
Men could never really beat women in this department.
"I'll make you wash mine with your lips. " He lifted her up and headed to the bathroom for another round.
Afterward, they dried off and changed into fresh clothes, sharing one last kiss before moving on.
Terrence dropped into the chair, eyes on the crypto charts flashing across his screen
While prices danced up and down, another tab ran a side mission—finding a new place to live.
The search dragged until a site called Luxury-Estate popped up. Sleek interface, easy to understand filters.
He switched it from 'Buy' to 'Rent' and dove in.
Most listings were high-end—apartments, penthouses, glossy condos.
Scrolling through listings, he checked their appearance, size, and location.
Finally, one caught his eye. It stood close to the business center, near trading hubs and other fortune 500 companies.
At the same time, it sat right next to the Hudson River, offering a great view. Manhattan park was also within walking distance.
Rent was $22,000 a month.
'This place is good enough,' He dialed the number.
The phone rang four times before someone answered.
"Hello, is this Danny from LLC?"
(Yeah, this is Danny. Who am I speaking with?) came the reply.
"My name's Terrence Marshal, and I saw your listing. I'm in a hurry, so let's get straight to the point. I want to rent the place located in freedom palace"
There was a paused on the other line.
(Yes, sir, I understand. But I'll need some information and documents from you first,)
"Danny, let's not waste time. Give me your Venmo, and I'll send you some money to get things moving."
Seconds later, $3,000 showed up in his account.
"See? I'm just a rich kid with too much money to waste. You get paid, I get convenience. So, what do you say?"
(I'll handle the paperwork right away, sir. Just send me your ID.)
"Good. I expect good things from you, Danny. Do a good job, and you'll get more bonus."
He ended the call on a good note.
To outsiders, his actions might seem wasteful and impulsive, but there was a bigger plan behind it.
In the future, he would need people with ties to the wealthy—and what better way to start than by building trust with real estate brokers who dealt with them regularly?
There was a saying: what set the rich apart from the ultra-rich was how well they delegate the right people to get the job done.
He started browsing again, and saw an interesting advertisement.
Dialing the number, he got an immediate response.
(Saul Kindman here. What can I do for you?)
"I need a lawyer,"
(Look, I don't waste time—so tell me straight, what's the problem? Taxes? Legal mess? Are you a drug lord? Did you kill anyone? Whatever it is, I've got your back. Just say the word.)
Terrence liked him already. "Taxes,"
(You're in luck because you are talking to the best lawyer in the state, my friend. Don't sweat it—I'll have the IRS singing your praises once I'm done with your books. But hey, I'm slammed right now—big clients, big cases—so I'll hit you up tomorrow to set a time to chat, alright? )
"Sure,"
Soon, a text came in from Danny confirming that the place was now reserved for him.
All he had to do was show up, pay the deposit, and it would be his.
"That'll do." Terrence nodded, stretching his arms slowly before settling into his usual deep breathing routine.
Right now, he needed to grow stronger, and fast—just in case something like last night happened.
What his uncle did was a result of him changing the past, and the more he disturb the surface, the more likely he would attract certain kinds of enemies.
All his preparation would mean nothing if something bad happened to him.
'Inhale… Exhale,'
He repeated the cycle. With each breath, his thoughts became clearer.
Time slipped by, broken only by a soft knock at the door.
It was Effie, carrying his breakfast.