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The Richest Man in Metropolis is My Backer by Dream Searcher

Chapter 33
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Chapter 33

As though worried Soren might doubt my skills, I added, “I plan my twell so her dress will be done before her

birthday.”

“Don’t worry. You can just make two sets for the event if you're short on time. Honestly, I'd put your health first.

Working too hard is far more damaging to the body than it seems.”

His words remindedthat he had seenasleep just this morning. | felt embarrassed again.

Soren could tell | was nervous. He stepped forward. “Well, shouldn't keep you any longer. You have a meal to

catch. We'll talk sother time.”

| snapped out of my thoughts and nodded hurriedly. “Yeapl Goodbye, Mr. Kenway.”

“Bye.”

| got into the car. To my surprise, he closed the door forand waved through the window.

| was beginning to wonder if | saw the “really rich guys” through rose-colored glasses.

For sreason, anything that should have been ordinary a smile, a frown, a shrug, a wave, even the way the

wind tousled his hair-seemed magical and unique when it was him.

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His courteous manner seemed ingrained in his personality. His elegance felt innate. He was considerate,

observant, and kind, displaying all three traits effortlessly

| was floored. | couldn't help but admire him.

The limousine rolled into motion, and I shot a furtive glance behind me.

He was still standing at the gate, watchingleave.

A warmth spread in my chest, but there was something else, too-a small, indescribable feeling.

| wanted to investigate it, but because he seemed so far above me-like modern-day royalty-I somehow felt that

Investigating it would be a mistake.

By the t| reached my grandmother's house, my aunt and their housekeeper, Clara, had already finished

preparing lunch.

| had been so busy dealing with one problem after another lately that | hadn't had the chance to enjoy a warm,

home-cooked meal in peace. Seeing what they had prepared warmed my heart.

My aunt asked about the auction while we were eating. | felt my heart skip a beat. | couldn't possibly tell the

truth with my grandmother here!

“Don’t worry. I've got the money,” | fibbed confidently.

“Where did you get that much money?” my grandmother asked.

“I sold the villa to Edward,” | said, my voice muffled from the ribs | was eating. “He was at least decent enough

to givemore than 4,000,000 dollars. That should be enough to get the bracelet.”

My grandmother sighed. “He’s such a confused young man Maddison was his first mistake, but he seems to keep

making it.”

“Nah. He's not confused. He's just rotten through and through,” | replied, before changing the subject to

Chapter

something was far more willing to talk ab

My grandmother went to take a nap after lunch.

| was just about to leave when my aunt stopped me

To my bewilderment, she asked, “Be honest, honey. How much more do you need?”

| should have known I couldn't hide it. “I did all | could, but only managed to get around 4,000,000 dollars. We're

still 9,000,000 dollars short.”

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My aunt frowned. She was taken aback by the numbers, too

She thought for a moment and said, “I can get 4,000,000 dollars.”

“Where will you get the money?” | asked.

She smiled. “By saving my money all these years. There are sat home, too. Altogether, I'm sure there's at

least 4,000,000 dollars.”

“What if your husband-

“He’ll understand why. It’s your mother’s keepsake, right? And your grandmother's greatest respect,” my aunt

reasured me. “I'm not in urgent need of the money, so just focus on getting the bracelet back”

“Thank you, Aunt Sarah. My business is doing well lately, so I'll pay you back with interest soon,” | promised

“Sounds like a plan.” My aunt transferred the money as promised.

| then asked everyone who still treatedas a friend, using my own company as my asset. | now had 6,000,000

dollars.

The auction was less than a week away, but | still needed 7,000,000 dollars.

| racked my brain and considered selling the Edwardian Taylor, but | realized there wouldn't be enough tto

make enough money that way, either.

In the end, | realized | had only one choice left-ask Harry Jones, my “father.”