Chapter 3 Class Clash in the Parking Lot
Morning in Manhattan's financial district—the air thick with ambition and caffeine.
I pulled into the underground parking garage of Olympus Tower.
Just as I locked my car, a black Bentley roared in and screeched to a stop in a VIP spot.
The door opened, and Victoria Wilson stepped out in her red-soled heels.
She wore a Chanel suit, clutching the arm of the man beside her, looking smug.
"Oh my God! Isn't that loser Ethan?" Victoria's sharp eyes spotted me, her shriek echoing through the garage.
I stopped walking.
Victoria rushed over in quick steps, her fiancé Aiden Gray following behind with his hands in his pockets.
"Ethan, what are you doing at Olympus Tower?" Victoria tilted her head. "Don't tell me you're here to apply for a janitor position?"
Aiden pulled out a gold-embossed business card from his suit pocket and waved it in front of me. "Aiden Gray Investment Consulting. I manage two billion dollars in assets. I'm here today to meet with Mr. Claire Davenport about a partnership. Someone at your level probably can't even touch the front door of this building."
I glanced at the card and said calmly, "Congratulations. Hope your meeting goes well."
Victoria didn't get the groveling response she expected, which made her even angrier.
Aiden just laughed, pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and tossed it on the ground. "Here's some charity for you. Want a job paying two thousand a month? Cleaning toilets."
I looked at the bill on the ground and said nothing.
Just then, a uniformed parking attendant walked over quickly.
He glanced at me, bowed slightly, his tone respectful. "Sir, your motorcycle parked here might block the lane. Should I move it to the VIP area for you?"
Victoria's laughter grew sharper. "VIP area? What makes him qualified for that?"
I shook my head at the attendant. "No need, thanks."
Then I turned to Aiden and Victoria. "Aren't you supposed to meet Claire? Don't be late."
The three of us walked toward the elevator hall together.
While waiting for the elevator, Aiden glanced back at me. "Seriously, my job offer stands. You can come to me anytime."
I raised my eyes and looked directly at Aiden for the first time.
The look was so calm it was chilling.
"Aiden Gray Investment Consulting, right? Soon you'll find that not only will Olympus Capital refuse to work with you, we'll become your nightmare."
Aiden's expression changed. "What are you talking about?"
I turned to Victoria. "Victoria, your fiancé probably doesn't even qualify to ride the elevator to the 88th floor of Olympus Tower."
Aiden exploded, lunging forward to grab my collar. "You want me to mess you up right now?"
I didn't struggle, just gently brushed his hand away.
Aiden felt a tingling numbness in his wrist and involuntarily let go.
"Starting a fight in Olympus Tower? You sure you want to do that?"
Two security guards walked over quickly.
The lead one spoke sternly. "Gentlemen, physical confrontations are prohibited in this building. Please watch your behavior."
Aiden suppressed his rage and let go.
He knew what causing trouble here meant—the meeting would be canceled, and the opportunity his father worked so hard to arrange would be gone.
"Ethan, you just wait," he said through gritted teeth.
I straightened my collar and said flatly, "Hope when you get to the 88th floor, you'll still be as confident as you are now."
I turned and walked toward another section of the elevator hall.
There was an unmarked door that required a card to enter.
Aiden frowned, watching me walk away.
The 88th floor? Olympus Tower's public information only showed 87 floors.
How would this loser know about an 88th floor?
The elevator arrived, and Victoria pulled him inside.
Before the doors closed, she was still looking out—I had already disappeared around the corner.
Forty-fifth floor.
The regular visitor elevator stopped here.
They registered at the front desk, went through security, and waited.
Victoria's chain purse was opened for inspection, leaving her looking embarrassed.
The receptionist told them: Claire's schedule was full, and initial discussions would be handled by the investment department manager.
"What? Ms. Davenport won't meet with us personally?" The glow vanished from Victoria's face.
The receptionist smiled professionally. "Very sorry."
Victoria looked around, hoping to see Claire herself pass through the hallway.
But the corridor was empty—no one gave them a second glance.
Eighty-eighth floor.
Claire stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Vice President's office, waiting for her real boss.
She was thirty-three, with short blonde hair and a deep blue Armani suit.
A Wall Street legend, Harvard MBA, became Olympus Capital's youngest Vice President at twenty-eight.
Right now, her palms were slightly sweaty.
The elevator doors opened.
I stepped out, looking plain and out of place in this minimalist luxury floor.
Claire bowed deeply. "Mr. Rosecrest, welcome. I'm Claire Davenport. It's an honor to serve you."
I nodded slightly. "Just call me Ethan. I'm here in a private capacity today. I don't want to draw attention."
Claire stepped aside, and I walked into the office.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows was all of Manhattan—the San Remo, the Hudson River, the Statue of Liberty a blur in the distance.
"Victor should have told you I need your help with something."
"You mean supporting Ms. Erin Wilson's design career?" Claire said. "I've prepared a proposal. Olympus Capital has an old district renovation project in Brooklyn with a fifty-million-dollar budget. We can hold an open bid and ensure Ms. Wilson's proposal wins during the review process."
I shook my head.
"No. Erin is a proud person. She has to win on real merit. I don't want her to find out later and think her success came from my manipulation."
Claire paused. She'd seen plenty of rich men buy everything for their wives, but this young man chose a harder path.
"Then what do you mean?"
"Create a fair playing field. Eliminate competitors who would use underhanded tactics. Give Erin some advantages in project information and resource connections. The rest—leave to her own talent."
Claire took careful notes. "Understood."
Just then, the secretary knocked and entered.
"Ms. Davenport, Mr. Gray from Aiden Gray Investment Consulting is waiting on the 45th floor. Mr. Miller from the investment department is asking if the meeting should proceed."
Claire frowned, about to say "cancel," when I spoke up.
"Wait. Is his companion Victoria Wilson?"
The secretary checked her tablet. "Yes, noted as his fiancée."
My expression changed.
"Cancel all cooperation possibilities with Aiden Gray Investment." My voice was flat. "Also, look into Aiden Gray Investment Consulting's background."
Claire didn't ask why. "Understood."
I stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking toward Brooklyn.
"Also, announce two things in Olympus Capital's name. First, the group has changed hands—the new chairman's surname is Rosecrest, but don't disclose other information. Second, accelerate the launch of the 'Manhattan Peak' project. Start open bidding for the architectural design immediately. Judge only on proposal quality, not company size."
Claire quickly grasped my intention. "You want to give Ms. Wilson a fair chance?"
I didn't answer directly.
"My wife is a very talented architectural designer. But the family business she works for never gives her a stage to show her talent. Now, I'm giving her a completely fair opportunity. If her proposal is the best, she'll win. If not, that means she still needs to grow."
Claire looked at me with respect. "Understood. I'll ensure the bidding process is absolutely fair and transparent."
I turned and walked toward the elevator.
"Today's events—absolute confidentiality."
"Yes, sir."
The elevator doors closed, and I disappeared from the 88th floor.
In the conference room on the 45th floor, Aiden and Victoria were still waiting.
They had no idea that everything they hoped for was about to crumble.
