The Boy You Ditched Is Now the Boss

Eight years ago, my first love, Zyla Garcia, dumped me. Right in front of me, she threw herself into the arms of a rich scion named Brett Salway.

She said condescendingly, "Kieran, you asked me to wait for you for three years. But how many three years does a woman have?"

I begged her desperately, but she remained unmoved. Brett even ordered someone to pin me to the ground and force me to finish a bottle of red wine before letting me leave.

"You should thank me, Kieran. Otherwise, you would never have the chance to drink such expensive wine in your life!" Brett sneers.

I watched as they got into a luxury car and drove off.

Eight years later, I am one of the most powerful figures in this city—and I run into them again.

After I got off the plane, my assistant, Reagan Judd, drove me straight to Smyth Hot Springs Club.

I was the owner of this club, and I mostly used it as a place to host my elite clients. The threshold for registering as a member of my club was quite high. While I made money from running the club, it also helped filter the clients who were worthy enough to do business with me.

At the same time, I could help connect them with others. Because of that, many elites of the business world liked to come here, sit around, talk about life, and casually gather the latest information.

That was how information gaps came about, and through them, I gradually became an untouchable new figure with immense influence in the financial world.

"Mr. Smith, Mr. Salway and Mr. Cooper of Rogmire are here tonight. Would you like to see them now?" Reagan asked.

I rubbed my temples and replied, "Okay. Ask them to come over."

I had just gotten off the plane. After soaking in a hot spring and grabbing a bottle of premium wine, I made my way toward Room 308, the private room where we had agreed to meet.

Just as I was about to push the door open, someone grabbed my arm.

"Well, well, if it isn't Kieran Smith! Weren't you supposed to make something of yourself? How did you end up as an errand boy selling wine?"

It was Brett Salway, the rich scion, who humiliated me eight years ago. A group of people stood behind him, one of whom was Zyla Garcia.

Even though eight years had passed, she was still as beautiful as ever. The only difference was that she had a faint, sorrowful frown.

I raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Yeah. The commission is high."

"After all these years, you really haven't improved at all! Back then, Brett rewarded you with a bottle of wine, and you were over the moon!"

The one speaking was Brett's lackey, Harry Holt. He shoved me rudely with ill intent, pushing me straight into Room 308. Unexpectedly, no one was inside.

"This room has been reserved. You should go to