I listened to the story, feeling nothing.

With the $50 million from Shannon's father, I could rebuild my life in Bris.

I dove headfirst into a top design academy, tackling language barriers, cultural shocks, and grueling coursework.

No more pandering to Shannon's whims or suffocating under my family's toxicity. There were only pencils, blueprints, and dreams of the future.

Time blurred in a whirlwind of creativity.

Fueled by relentless hustle and innate flair, my jewelry creations shone at major fashion weeks and earned me prestigious international awards.

Promoted to chief designer at Lumina, I was sent home to spearhead the expansion.

On my inaugural day, I slipped into a cozy café for lunch when a hesitant voice pierced the din. "Troy Nielsen? Is that you?"

I turned to see a familiar face. I remembered Jenny Pike, a classmate who sat in front of me back in high school.

Her eyes bulged, scanning me with unmasked awe and disbelief. "Gosh, it's really you. You've totally reinvented yourself."

Time had sculpted away my youthful awkwardness, replacing it with a grounded poise honed by global experiences.

"Hey, it's been a while," I replied evenly.

"This is serendipity!" Jenny bubbled. "We're having a class reunion upstairs at the swanky Cloud Lounge. Lots of folks are coming, including Shannon. You've gotta join. They'll flip when they see you now."

It had been a while since I heard that name, but like a faint, faded snapshot, it barely stirred dust in my memory banks.

I considered declining, then decided that avoidance was unnecessary.

"Sure," I said instead.

The day blurred with handover tasks, leaving me no time to catch a breath.

By the time I remembered the gathering, it was already late.

Skipping freshening up at the hotel, I ascended to the lounge in my casual clothes.

Pushing through the ornate doors, I was met with a cacophony of laughter and clinking glasses.

The room was large and opulent. In the center stood a massive round table packed with people.

My gaze swept the assembly, involuntarily landing on a radiant figure at the head.

Shannon looked more mature now. Her skin glowed under subtle makeup, her lithe frame draped in a chic ensemble that screamed affluence. Her legs elegantly crossed as admirers orbited her like planets.

Beside her lounged a strapping young man in flashy clothes. It was not Hunter Ward, but a fresh face.

Apparently, her arm candy had upgraded.

A brief hush fell before a tipsy guy spotted me. "Whoa, look who is here? Isn't that Shannon's former simp?"

Pandemonium ensued. Stares laden with shock, schadenfreude, and curiosity pinned me in place.

Shannon's head snapped up, her pupils contracting at the sight of me. Her casual poise froze into stunned complexity.

Her boyfriend noticed, tightening his arm around her waist. His glare at me was appraising and hostile.

"Troy?" he drawled.

Ignoring the buzz, I navigated to a vacant seat beside Jenny. I sat down with composed grace and poured myself a glass of water.

"Troy, it's been forever!" trilled Cindy Campbell, bedecked in gaudy jewelry and heavy perfume. "Word is you bailed on college. Figures, with your family's finances in the gutter. So, where have you been slumming it? Don't tell me the whispers are true, that you snagged a sugar mama to fund your lifestyle."

Her taunt sparked snickers from those nearby.

"I was abroad for a few years. Just got back," I replied curtly, uninterested in elaborating.

"Abroad, eh?" Liam Grant interjected with exaggerated pity.

"Being abroad sounds glamorous, but it's rough out there, right? Whatever gigs you picked up there might not fly here. Some are straight-up illegal. Buddy, need intros? My uncle's firm needs a guard. Low bar, just basic skills. The pay's not high, but it's legit. Better than your old..." Liam trailed off suggestively, implying unsavory escapades.

"Totally," Cindy chimed in, her tone as phony as her lashes. "We're old pals. If you're struggling, speak up. With your background—no college, no sharp clothes—you might bomb interviews. Want me to take you shopping? I can spot you cash. You were a whiz kid. It's a shame seeing you like this."

Shannon stayed silent, her nails digging into her wine stem. Her intense gaze bore into me like lasers.

Her boyfriend, Zach Fuller, leaned forward with condescending pity and open disdain.

"Ah, the legendary Troy. Tales of your devotion to Shannon precede you," he scoffed. "Slaving over her assignments, forging notes, and covering for her in class. Must have been tough."

He paused deliberately, savoring the crowd's expectant grins. "But hey, at least you knew you were out of her league. Smart move dipping out, though you seem down on your luck now. Well, Shannon is poised to helm her family's empire, and I'm steering my family's fashion line toward a blockbuster partnership with elite designers. I could throw you a lifeline."

"Appreciate it, but I'm good," I said, taking a measured sip.

Zach squinted at me. "You have no idea the caliber I'm dealing with. Know Lumina? Rising Bris jewelry brand. Their lead designer is a phenom, scooping up global prizes and shrouded in enigma. I called in major favors to score a sit-down. Land this collaboration, and it's game-changing. I could slip you to an entry-level spot, no sweat."

Gasps and accolades erupted.

"Lumina? Their pieces are pure art!"

"That designer is elite and super selective!"

"Zach, you're a powerhouse! Perfect match for Shannon's star power!"

Zach preened under the praise. It was the exact reaction he wanted to see.

"What's his name?" a curious voice probed.

"Aaron Stuart," Zach replied, inflating further. "He is a compatriot, young and talented. Commands respect in Brisian circles. My brand is niche, but I'll win him over."

He leaned into Shannon. "Right, babe?"

She murmured a vague affirmation, her focus riveted on me. Resentment simmered beneath her composed exterior.

The flattery for Zach ramped up, laced with barbs aimed my way.

I remained an island of serenity, nursing my water.

A knock suddenly came from the door.

A suited assistant, files in arm, poked her head in anxiously yet respectfully. "Mr. Fuller, sorry to interrupt. I've got those critical Lumina documents you requested and updates on the designer."

Zach's eyes lit up with anticipation. "Got a reply? Did he agree to a face-to-face meeting?"

The assistant nodded, adjusting her grip on the files. "Met him today. He's booked tonight but slotted tomorrow."

Zach beamed triumphantly, fist-pumping subtly. "Perfect!"

He pivoted to Shannon, radiating victory. "Told you I'd seal it. Tomorrow's ours."

The assembly unleashed a torrent of sycophantic cheers.

"Zach, you're unstoppable!"

"We're all riding your coattails now."

"Shannon hit the jackpot with you."

Basking in the glow, Zach cast a smug sidelong glance my way. "Hey, any entry-level spots? Janitor, security? Troy is an old friend who did solids for my girl. Heard he's jobless. Thought I'd offer stability."

Laughter boomed.

"Zach, think twice. His family is purely toxic."

"Remember his vanishing act? His parents stormed the school, wailing and accusing the admins of abduction. Hit the evening news—total embarrassment!"

"Spot on! They're nuts. Zach, your company has just taken off. The last thing you want is their circus derailing it."

Zach feigned relief. "Whew, close call. Sorry, Troy. I love to assist, but my operation is too green for that baggage."

He sidled closer to Shannon, as if I carried a plague.

Shannon fixed me with a steely stare, her lips parting briefly before she clamped down, frustration etched in her features.

Eyes bore into me, awaiting my humiliation.

Unruffled, I reiterated, "No worries. I have a job. Thanks anyway."

Zach sighed theatrically. "That line of work? Might wanna bail before it bites you. Youth and looks fade, and those gigs come with health hazards."

Guffaws echoed, but the assistant, mid-gather, suddenly halted, her professional mask shattering as recognition dawned.

Her files cascaded to the floor in a chaotic avalanche, pages fluttering like startled birds.

Silence blanketed the space.

Zach snapped, "Clumsy much? Those are confidential!"

Oblivious to his ire, she looked in my direction, her voice quivering with awe. "Mr. Stuart? I didn't expect to see you here."