It didn't take Sanna long to locate the gentleman she wanted. He was impossible to miss. The man stood out in every gathering he attended, not just for his booming voice, but for the way he wore his wealth like armor.
Armen, the jeweler, was an older man with dark, tightly curled hair streaked with gray. His presence filled a room as surely as the glinting metal draped across his body. A thick gold chain weighed on his neck, nearly gleaming as brightly as the chandelier above, while each of his wrists bore enough bracelets and bangles to strain the strength of lesser men. To some, it was excessive. To Armen, it was marketing.
He was always flaunting his products, always ready to promote his brand. Loud, flamboyant, relentless, yet no one could deny his expertise. Beneath all the showmanship, Armen knew his craft better than most professionals alive.
"Mr. Armen, if you would," Sanna said smoothly, handing him the necklace with a confident smile.
He raised his thick eyebrows, then pulled a small magnifying glass from his inner pocket. It was a tool he carried everywhere, for there were always people trying to sell him items on the spot. He pressed the glass close, squinting, turning the piece gently in the light.
The room seemed to quiet around him. Conversations dulled, breaths held. All eyes locked onto the chain in his hand, waiting for the verdict.
Finally, Armen grunted in satisfaction.
"It's genuine," he declared. "The real Ruby Canel. An extraordinary piece. I have no idea how you managed to get your hands on something like this, but whoever gave it to you… they must be someone very powerful indeed."
With that, he gave Sanna a knowing smile and walked away, the weight of his pronouncement left hanging in the air.
Sheri carefully took the necklace back, fastening it once more around her neck. As the jewel settled against her collarbone, the tension in the room shifted.
Heat rose to Anton's face, blooming red across his cheeks. He cleared his throat, visibly flustered. Only minutes ago, he had practically accused the Curts family of flaunting a fake. Now his pride stung like a slap.
"I told you it was real," Sanna said sharply, her chin tilted high. "There was never any reason to doubt the Billion Bloodline Group."
Anton scowled. "I didn't say it was a fake. I said it might be. There's a difference." His words sounded hollow, even to himself. He could hardly believe it. Why would any firm, venture capitalist or otherwise, gift such an item to Sheri? None of it made sense.
Christopher, who had been watching with wide eyes, leaned forward. "It does make you wonder, doesn't it? A VC firm appearing out of nowhere, moving with such boldness… who exactly is behind the Billion Bloodline Group? Who has that kind of money and influence?"
At those words, every ear in the circle perked up. Even passing guests slowed their steps to catch a fragment of the conversation. And Sanna, her chest swelling with pride, remained perfectly silent, letting curiosity do the work for her.
Christopher continued eagerly. "I tried doing some digging myself. Public records, business filings, the usual. What I found… well, it's odd. It's not one single industry, not one tidy narrative. It's a patchwork of ventures.
"They started with gyms, of all things. A handful in Brinehurst, of all places. Not exactly a glamorous starting point, but the profits were undeniable. Then they launched a merchandise line, funneling sales through those gyms. And that took off as well.
"After that came restaurants. Courier services. And, of course, their investment into your Boba tea business." He gestured lightly at Sheri and Sanna. "It doesn't matter what they touch, every single venture has seen its profits soar. I've never seen a streak like it."
The excitement in his voice infected those listening. Even skeptics found themselves leaning closer.
Anton let out a reluctant laugh. "With a track record like that, no wonder Sanna praises them at every opportunity. With results like this, anyone would want their favor. Anyone would kill for their investment."
"You're right," Sanna said firmly. "And that's exactly why half the people here tonight came. They know I invited the Billion Bloodline Group. They know someone is meant to attend this event. And they're all hoping for a chance, a chance to get close, to impress them, maybe even to secure an investment of their own."
Her words rippled through the crowd, confirming what many had suspected but hadn't dared to say aloud.
Sheri, however, was growing more conflicted with every passing moment. The more she heard, the less she believed Max had anything to do with the Billion Bloodline Group. He was her age. He had only just graduated himself. There was no way he could have built something this vast, this profitable, this quickly. It didn't make sense.
Still, her hand instinctively touched the necklace at her throat, her fingertips brushing the ruby.
It was nice to think it might have been Max, she admitted silently. Nice to imagine he had sent this to me, that he still cared in some way. But if the real representative is coming tonight… then I need to thank them properly. Whoever they are, I owe them that much.
"Speaking of which," Anton said suddenly, narrowing his eyes at Sanna. "Where are they? This grand, mysterious Billion Bloodline Group. Are you certain they're even coming?"
"They assured me they would send someone," Sanna replied smoothly, though her voice carried just a touch of strain. "It has only been thirty minutes since the event began. Patience. They'll arrive."
And at that very moment, outside at the base of the towering restaurant, two figures stood.
Max adjusted the smart brown overcoat draped across his shoulders, his white shirt crisp beneath it. His expression was calm, but there was a sharpness in his eyes, a readiness for whatever waited above.
Beside him, Warma fidgeted nervously, clutching the invitation card in his hand as though it were a lifeline.
"Well," Max said, taking a breath as he looked up at the glittering structure. "Shall we go in? Let's see what the world of wealth really looks like."