— Christopher Bang 21

You enter the large house cautiously, eyeing the walls with a mixture of curiosity and fear. Normally, in a typical home, family photos are scattered across the walls, but you don't see any until you reach the main living room. The woman guiding you is talking, pointing out things you mostly don't understand, but you can learn. You arrive at the kitchen, but in a hallway, you're surprised to see a display case filled with awards, medals, and diplomas. Next to it, a series of photographs of a very handsome boy—apparently, he's Christopher. You can't even process it when a teenager your age comes down—the famous Christopher Bang, son of two millionaires—shirtless, wearing only pants. He doesn't even look at you; he pushes past you and approaches the woman giving you the tour.

— Juliette! Where's the Fendi bag?

He says, the impact makes you stumble against the display case, and you almost end up in debt there, because a seemingly large trophy wobbles, you manage to grab it, and you put it back in its place, you bow as an apology.

— And who the hell is he?

He asks, looking you up and down when he notices your mistake, then grabs your shirt tightly.

"Look, brat. I don't give a damn who you are, but while you're on my roof, you better behave. That golden trophy you just touched could keep you here working for a lifetime, or longer. So watch yourself."