The ride to the new apartment was completely silent. Caspian sat in the passenger seat of Sylvia's sleek white sports car, keeping his eyes fixed on the city streets outside. Sylvia drove fast and aggressive, her knuckles tight and white on the leather steering wheel. She did not look at him once. She treated him like he was a piece of unwanted luggage she was forced to carry around.

They finally pulled into the underground parking garage of a high-rise building named The Grand Horizon. Caspian knew this building. It was located in the upscale district of Northbridge, a place where successful corporate managers and minor celebrities lived. It wasn't a place for the ultra-wealthy, but it was lightyears ahead of the cramped, moldy studio apartment Caspian had lived in just two days ago.

Sylvia turned off the engine, grabbed her designer purse, and stepped out without waiting for him. Caspian opened his door, grabbed his simple canvas duffel bag from the back seat, and followed her to the private elevator.

When the elevator doors opened on the top floor, Caspian found himself standing in a massive, open-concept penthouse. The floors were polished light wood, and a huge wall of floor-to-ceiling glass offered a stunning view of the city skyline. The kitchen featured dark marble countertops and high-end stainless-steel appliances.

"Don't get too comfortable," Sylvia said coldly, tossing her car keys onto the kitchen island. She turned around and faced him, her icy blue eyes narrowing as she looked at his cheap duffel bag. "As I said at the restaurant, this place was arranged by the Vance estate attorneys so we could live together under the contract. But this is not a real home, and we are not a real couple."

Caspian set his bag down on the floor. His face remained completely calm. After being yelled at by Preston and dumped by Gemma, Sylvia's cold words barely registered as an insult. Compared to his ex-girlfriend's screeching, Sylvia's coldness was almost refreshing. It was professional.

"I remember the rules, Sylvia," Caspian said smoothly. "Separate bedrooms. No touching. No interfering in each other's lives."

"Good. Memory is a useful trait for an office clerk," Sylvia shot back, a slight edge of sarcasm in her voice. She walked down a wide hallway and pointed to a door on the left.

"That is your room. It has its own bathroom. My quarters are at the absolute opposite end of the hall. Do not come near my room, do not knock on my door unless the building is literally on fire, and do not touch anything in the kitchen that belongs to me."

"Understood," Caspian replied.

Sylvia checked her watch, her expression turning stressed and anxious. "I have to return to the Sterling design studio. My company is launching a new luxury clothing line next month, and because of our financial situation, everything is a mess. I don't have time to play babysitter to a house husband. If you need food, order a pizza. Just make sure you clean up after yourself."

Without waiting for his response, she spun on her heel and walked straight out of the penthouse, the heavy front door clicking shut behind her.

Caspian stood alone in the quiet luxury of the penthouse. He let out a long breath and walked over to the massive glass window. He pulled out the matte-black titanium allowance card Arthur had given him the night before.

Five million dollars a month.

He had more money in his pocket right now than Sylvia's entire family business needed to survive, yet she thought he was a penniless nobody. The irony brought a small, cold smile to his lips. He didn't mind hiding the truth. It gave him a strange sense of peace. For the first time in his life, he didn't have to worry about rent, food, or survival. He could just watch the game play out.

He walked into his assigned bedroom. It was large and clean, featuring a king-sized bed with crisp white sheets and a private balcony overlooking the city park. On the bed sat a small, unmarked cardboard box.

Caspian opened it. Inside was a brand-new, top-of-the-line smartphone, a slim laptop, and a small black leather wallet containing a driver's license with his name on it, along with a few standard-looking banking cards. At the bottom of the box was a folded note written in elegant cursive.

Young Master Caspian,

The items inside are fully encrypted and secure. The banking cards are connected to a standard, average account that will show a modest salary to anyone who tries to look, keeping your secret safe. The black titanium card remains your primary source of unlimited funds. I have also placed a standard corporate job under your name at a local logistics firm, just in case your new wife demands proof of your employment.

I am always watching from the shadows.

- Arthur Pendelton

Caspian tossed the note into the trash and picked up the new phone. He set it up quickly, transferring his old contacts. The moment the phone connected to the network, it began to vibrate violently with missed calls and text messages.

He opened the messages. They were all from his old co-workers at Vanguard Architecture, and a few were from Gemma.

"Caspian, is it true? Did Preston really take your project?" one co-worker had texted.

"Bro, everyone in the office is talking. Preston is telling everyone you got fired for stealing company data. You need to defend yourself!" another wrote.

Then came Gemma's messages from earlier that morning.

"Don't bother calling me or coming to my apartment to beg, Caspian. I am moving my things out today. Preston is taking me shopping at the luxury district this afternoon. Stay out of my life."

Caspian looked at the words on the screen. He didn't feel the sharp sting of heartbreak anymore. Instead, he felt a cold, calculated desire for justice. Preston hadn't just stolen his design; he was actively destroying Caspian's professional reputation in the city so he could never find another job.

"You think you won, Preston," Caspian murmured, his eyes turning hard as flint. "You think you can erase me."

He unlocked the laptop, opened a secure browser, and entered a private access code Arthur had provided. Within seconds, a secure terminal connected directly to the main database of Vance Global Holdings appeared on the screen.

Caspian's fingers flew across the keyboard. He might have been an architectural intern, but he was brilliant with data and research. He looked up Vanguard Architecture. It turned out that Vanguard was currently trying to secure a massive ten-million-dollar investment loan from a major local bank called Northbridge Financial to fund the very waterfront project Preston had stolen.

Caspian dug deeper. Who owned Northbridge Financial?

A dry chuckle escaped his throat as he read the screen. Northbridge Financial was a subsidiary company completely owned by a larger investment firm. And that investment firm was a tiny, invisible leaf on the massive corporate tree of Vance Global Holdings.

Caspian picked up his new secure phone and dialed a private number. It rang once before Arthur's voice came through. "Yes, Young Master?"

"Arthur," Caspian said, his voice flat and authoritative. "Vanguard Architecture is applying for a ten-million-dollar loan through Northbridge Financial for the new waterfront project. They are using my stolen blueprints to secure it."

There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by the sound of typing. "I see it on my screen now, Young Master. The loan approval is currently sitting on the regional manager's desk, waiting for a final signature tomorrow morning."

"Freeze it," Caspian commanded calmly. "Do not reject it yet. Just hold it. Let them think they are going to get it. I want Preston and my old boss to celebrate first. Let them throw a party. And Arthur?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Find out exactly which luxury boutiques Preston is taking his new girlfriend to this afternoon. I think I want to do some shopping myself."