When Warma introduced himself as a representative of the Billion Bloodline Group, he expected curiosity. Perhaps a handful of questions, a polite exchange of business cards, and a nod of recognition. That was the extent of what he imagined.
After all, attention was good, wasn't it? The more people spoke of the Bloodline Group, the more doors it opened, for the business, for Max, and for Warma himself. If the company thrived, his own situation would improve as well. With the steady stream of earnings he had been receiving, he had even started to plan his future carefully.
His dream was to move away from Brinehurst altogether, to take his daughter with him to a safer city, a place where they weren't constantly haunted by old scars. Brinehurst had been nothing but a place of bad memories for the both of them.
But the reality of the attention he was receiving now… it was far more overwhelming than anything he had bargained for.
Everywhere he went, eyes followed. Guests leaned toward one another and whispered his name under their breath. A subtle ripple of energy had spread through the room the moment he announced who he represented. Now, as he tried to maneuver toward the appetizer table for a moment of normalcy, it felt as though people were circling, ready to pounce at any second.
A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Warma pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed his forehead nervously, attempting to look composed. He reached for a plate, finally selecting a small skewer of shrimp, when a firm voice greeted him at his side.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is David Hern," the young man said smoothly. He was dressed immaculately in a crisp gray suit, his tie a subtle navy blue that suggested wealth without arrogance. "I'm representing Greentown Buildings. We're behind quite a few of the latest developments in Notting Hill City."
David offered a small bow, his smile sharp but polite. "I've heard many things about your group. I hope we can build a relationship in the near future. It would be… mutually beneficial."
Warma blinked. The man was young, confident, and clearly ambitious. For a moment he saw a reflection of himself back when he had just started working as a financial adviser, eager to catch the attention of clients.
He returned the smile and gave his rehearsed answer. "It's nice to meet you as well. I'm sure our paths may cross in time, but for today, I'm here for the Curts family and their daughter's graduation. It might be best if we leave the business matters for another occasion."
David didn't seem offended. If anything, he looked pleased just to have made the introduction. He handed over a sleek business card with both hands, bowed again, and then moved aside.
But Warma barely had time to tuck the card into his jacket pocket before another figure stepped up. And then another. And then another.
Each one wanted to shake his hand. Each one wanted to press their business card into his palm. Each one wanted to get their face remembered.
It was endless. The appetizer plate was quickly forgotten as Warma found himself repeating the same words again and again, smiling until his cheeks ached. He had been in finance long enough to know what was happening, this was a hot spot for connections. If he were still his old self, hungry for clients, he might have been doing the exact same thing. But now, as a representative of a group shrouded in mystique, he was the one being hunted.
It was exhausting.
Finally, someone came to his rescue.
"Please, everyone, calm down."
Sanna Curts strode across the room, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. She raised her hands in a gesture of control. "I understand your excitement, but tonight is not a networking convention. Tonight is about Sheri's graduation. This man is our guest of honor, not someone to be swarmed."
The gathered guests hesitated. Many frowned but stepped back reluctantly, and for the first time in several minutes Warma was able to take a proper breath.
Still, Sanna herself was studying him closely. She had expected the Billion Bloodline Group to send someone impressive, but she hadn't expected an older man. On one hand, it wasn't terrible, an older representative implied higher rank, perhaps even someone who held genuine authority. But it was disappointing for another reason. She had secretly hoped for someone closer to Sheri's age, someone who might sweep her daughter off her feet.
Instead, they had sent Warma.
Sheri walked with her mother, her soft eyes landing on him, and the two of them bowed politely.
"It's nice to finally have a face to associate with the Bloodline Group," Sanna said warmly. "We are forever grateful to you for believing in us. We'll do whatever it takes to ensure your faith in us was not misplaced."
"Thank you," Sheri added, bowing as well. Her voice was softer, but sincere. "And thank you for the beautiful gift. It really is far too much."
Immediately, Warma's face turned crimson. He waved his hands frantically. "No, please, please don't thank me. I'm only a representative. The one you should truly thank is our CEO. He's the one who makes the decisions, who invests his own money. I merely assist him with the details behind the scenes."
He stammered so quickly it almost sounded like he was begging them to stop praising him.
Sanna chuckled lightly, taking it as modesty. "Regardless, you're still part of the group. If they trusted you enough to represent them here, then you're someone I'll happily give my thanks to."
Warma swallowed, unsure how long he could keep up this charade. His nerves were rising again when, thankfully, another figure entered the circle.
"Oh, I should introduce you." Sanna beamed. "This here is Max Stern, the youngest member of the Stern family."
She turned to Max, gesturing toward Warma with a proud smile. "And Max, this is someone very important. A man you should look up to. You could learn a great deal from him, about business, about life. Remember this day, I'm introducing the two of you."
Max extended his hand casually. Warma took it, forcing a polite smile. Their grip was firm but brief.
And while the world around them chattered politely, one thought was screaming in Warma's head:
She has no idea… that the man standing right in front of her, this boy she's dismissing, is actually my boss.