The morning broke clean and sharp. Cass sat in the study with papers spread across the desk.
He had drafted the contract himself before sending it through a solicitor whose job was to smooth edges without dulling them.
The language was precise. The freight company would keep its name. The owner would keep his sons. But the shares, the schedules, the real bones of the routes—those would be Cass's.
'Make it fair enough that he signs without flinching. Make it strong enough that nobody can move it later.'
Elaine knocked once before entering. She carried a small tray with breakfast.
"You were up all night," she said softly.
"I was," Cass said.
"You should rest."
"I'll rest when the routes are mine."
She set the tray down, her eyes moving over the papers. "You look like your grandfather when you work. Always thinking of ten things at once."
"Then this time the family won't lose what it builds," Cass said.
She touched his shoulder gently before leaving. He ate quickly, packed the contract into a leather folder, and headed out.
The Jaguar's engine split the morning quiet as he drove north. When he reached the freight office, the owner was already waiting in the yard. His sons stood nearby, hands shoved in pockets, trying to look older than they were.
"You came back quick," the owner said.
"I don't waste days," Cass said.
They sat in the same office as before. Cass laid the folder on the table and slid the papers across. The owner read carefully, lips moving slightly. Cass didn't interrupt.
When he finished, he leaned back, looking at Cass.
"You kept the name."
"As I said."
"You kept the men."
"They are your strength."
"You made the decisions."
"They are my cost."
The man grunted, half laugh, half resignation. He pulled a pen from the drawer and signed.
"Done," he said. "I'll tell the boys they'll have work worth doing."
[Quest Complete: Secure the Freight Routes]
[Reward: £200,000. Skill Up: Negotiation Lv.2.]
[New Asset: Blackthorne Route Freight (51% Ownership).]
The signature felt heavier than money. It was a step in the right direction.
Cass stood. "Good choice. You'll be proud when the routes grow."
The man offered his hand again. This time it was firm, not testing.
…
On campus, word had already spread. Sienna's friends whispered about Cass meeting nobility. Trent sulked, muttering excuses about opportunities being unfair. Cass ignored both. He walked through the courtyard with Rowena at his side, her books balanced under one arm.
"You missed class again," she said.
"I signed something more important," Cass said.
"Care to share?"
"Routes. Lorries. Freight. Blackthorne."
Her brows rose. "That quickly?"
"Too slow for my liking," Cass said.
She shook her head, amused. "If you keep this up, the professors will be asking you to give lectures."
"They wouldn't understand them," Cass said.
Rowena laughed, the sound bright enough to catch the attention of a cluster of students nearby. Their murmurs followed as Cass and Rowena stepped into the hall.
Sienna watched from across the room. Her eyes narrowed as though she had been denied something that had once belonged to her. Cass met her gaze briefly, then dismissed it. She looked away first.
'She wanted me small. Now she has to measure herself against what she threw away.'
After class, Rowena dragged him to the rehearsal hall again. This time, she had brought sheet music new enough that the ink still smelled.
"Play this," she said.
"You first," Cass said.
She began. He joined. The piece was difficult, almost arrogant in its demands. But his hands found the keys as though he had practised in another life.
When the final note hung in the air, Rowena leaned back, laughing.
"You're impossible," she said.
"You enjoyed it," Cass said.
She didn't deny it.
Her phone buzzed, and she checked it, her mouth tightening.
"What is it?" Cass asked.
"An invitation."
"To what?"
"A recital next month... Important names. I am not sure I'd be ready."
"You are," Cass said.
Her eyes softened. "And if I fail?"
"You won't," Cass said. "But even if you did, my name will hold the room long enough for you to stand again."
She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.
By evening, Cass was back in the city. Harrington had called him to the Deansgate site. The old mill was half stripped, scaffolding climbing its sides. Workers moved like ants under floodlights.
"This will be your first real landmark," Harrington said, gesturing at the structure. "When it's done, everyone will remember you for this."
"They'll remember it was the beginning," Cass said.
Harrington grinned. "Ambition suits you."
They walked the site, Cass noting details the others missed—the way the new beams would change light angles, the traffic flow around the block, the sound of footsteps echoing through empty brick.
"Make it something worth gathering in," Cass said.
"It will be," Harrington said.
[Passive Activated: Eye for Growth — Deansgate projected revenue increased by 15%.]
The numbers slid into his vision like a second layer of sight. Cass let them settle.
…
Dinner that night was at home. Elaine wore one of the new gowns, modest but elegant. Thomas had the watch on, shining faintly in the light. The table gleamed with dishes prepared by staff Cass had hired without asking.
Elaine touched her pearls once, almost shyly. "People stared in the shops today," she said.
"Good," Cass said. "They should."
"They whispered," Thomas added.
"They always whispered," Cass said. "Now they'll do it in envy instead of contempt."
Elaine reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "Thank you. For giving us back a life we thought was gone."
"You never lost it," Cass said. "It was stolen. I'm taking it back."
Later, in the study, the system whispered new lines.
[Quest Triggered: Rowena's Recital. Objective: Secure her success and reputation at the upcoming event. Time Limit: 30 days.]
[Reward: Skill Upgrade — Performance Lv.2. Reputation +2 (Music Circles). Unique Reward: ???]
Cass smiled faintly.
'Good. Another stage, another audience. More rewards to claim.'
He opened the Hidden Ledger. Sienna's name glowed fiercely now, her envy feeding it. Trent's debt ticked upward with every bitter word he muttered. And below them, new names joined—competitors, critics, the ones who thought he had risen too fast.
'Let them write their debts. I will write the payments.'
He closed the book, leaned back in his chair, and let the silence of the house settle. Tomorrow would bring new meetings. Tonight, the victory was enough.
'The routes are mine. The stage is set. Now they will learn how quickly I turn foundations into fortresses.'