Page 62 of Black Reign

Boys with surnames older than some nations.

Ghost arriving with one suitcase and more intelligence than everybody whose family paid full tuition.

I smile into my coffee.

Complete fiction.

Every bit of it.

I know that.

Still, it fits.

He mocks inherited wealth too easily to have been born inside it.

Once he described inheritance as winning a race from the passenger seat.

I saved that line.

Naturally.

Maybe he made his first money in crypto.

Cybersecurity.

Private networks.

Some impossible piece of software he sold before anyone realized the programmer couldn't legally sign the contract alone.

Maybe now he has enough.

Not billions.

Enough.

A beautiful apartment somewhere.

A motorcycle he doesn't need.

One expensive watch he bought himself and pretends not to care about.

This imaginary Ghost is getting dangerously specific.

I shut down that thought.

The café door opens.

A couple enters.

They are approximately my age.

Maybe younger.

He touches the small of her back as they walk toward a table.

She leans into him without thinking.

Easy.