Today was the first time Diava met Edward, but the hatred he now felt for him had already sunk deep into his veins.
"Kneel down now!" Samantha yelled.
Dave didn't respond at first—his eyes were locked on the ridiculous smirk Edward wore on his stupid face.
"I said kneel down," Eva added, her voice sharper. This time, she struck Diava with the red bouquet in her hands—the same one Edward had just given her.
"You stupid fool!" Samantha shouted, landing another hot slap across Dave's face.
Dave wanted to apologize, to explain himself, but they didn't give him a chance. Eva struck him again with the red bouquet.
You idiot! "What gives you the audacity to interfere in our conversation?" she snapped.
Before Dave could even speak, Samantha grabbed him by his worn-out, cheap shirt and dragged him toward the door.
"Get out of here, you useless piece of trash!" she screamed, shoving him outside. "You should be grateful we were even helping your hopeless life! Just look at you—you won't last a day out there. In two days, you'll be dead from hunger!"
With that, she slammed the door shut behind him,
He just stood there, unable to speak. The beating he had just endured—at the hands of his wife and mother-in-law—kept replaying in his mind like a broken record. With frustration pressing heavily on his shoulders, he wandered the streets aimlessly, lost in a storm of tangled thoughts and simmering emotions. Eventually, his feet led him to Vigi Park—a pristine escape where the wealthy brought their children to play, laugh, and pretend the world was perfect.
After a long, tireless walk, he finally sank onto a bench near a child playing quietly with a toy car, trying to clear his head. Then, suddenly, it hit him—he was supposed to meet his father today.
His eyes widened as he pulled out his cheap Nokia phone from his pocket. He quickly dialed the unknown number he had saved.
The call connected instantly.
"Young Master, I've been waiting for your call."
A calm, respectful voice came through the line.
"Oh… that's nice," Dave replied, still caught off guard.
"Where are you now, Young Master?" Danny asked gently and worried.
"I'm at Vigi Park.
"Maybe you can meet me there," Dave said on the phone.
"Okay, Young Master.
"I'll be there shortly," the man on the other end—Danny—replied.
Cool. "I'll be waiting," Diava said before ending the call.
As he lowered the phone into his pocket, Dave noticed the little boy playing in front of him, smiling brightly as he scooped sand and toy cars together. Dave found the child adorable and smiled back warmly.
But just then, the boy's mother appeared. Her expression shifted quickly from concern to suspicion as she looked at Dave.
Who are you? "What do you want from my child?" she demanded, pulling her son close. "Son, come here."
The woman glared at Dave as she backed away with her child.
These beggars... "That's how they go around kidnapping children nowadays," she muttered loud enough for him to hear. "I need to call security."
She walked off in a hurry, throwing one last disgusted glance over her shoulder.
Dave sat frozen for a moment, hurt and humiliated. All he had done was smile.
Suddenly, Dave felt the weight of everyone's eyes on him. Parents around the park began pulling their children closer, casting wary glances in his direction. Conversations quieted, replaced by whispers and suspicious stares.
"Who is that person? He looks suspicious—maybe a kidnapper. Or perhaps he's just a beggar. Just give him some change so he leaves."
Dave looked down at himself—the worn-out clothes, the scuffed shoes—and realized how he must have appeared to them. Like someone who didn't belong. Like a beggar. Or worse, someone dangerous.
Diava felt the sting of humiliation deep in his chest, but he didn't move. He stood seated on the bench, trying to appear unbothered, though inside he was, but he kept his eyes on the park entrance, waiting patiently for Danny to arrive.
But the longer he sat under their judgmental gazes, the more uncomfortable he felt—like he was some criminal just for existing in their space.
Still, he refused to leave. He had waited his whole life for this moment. He wouldn't let their stares take it away from him.
Not long after, two sleek black Rolls-Royce cars arrived, instantly capturing everyone's attention. They came to a smooth stop near the center of the park. From the second car, three men in sharp black suits stepped out. One of them quickly made his way to the back door of the first Rolls-Royce. He gave a respectful bow before opening the door.
People around began to whisper and watch intently, wondering who could possibly be inside. Who was this powerful figure that commanded such respect?
Then, a man stepped out.
He wore a finely tailored gray suit, luxurious and clearly expensive—far beyond the reach of ordinary people. He looked to be in his forties, tall, and undeniably handsome. The suit alone announced his status: rich, influential, and important.
Without hesitation, he walked toward where Diava was seated.
Then, to everyone's shock, the man stopped in front of Dave and bowed—deeply, a full ninety degrees.
Gasps rippled through the park.
People couldn't believe their eyes. Why would someone so powerful and well-dressed show such respect to... a petty beggar? It was absurd.
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, young master Dave," the man said respectfully.
Dave's heart began to pound. Did he just call him young master?
"Wait... who are you?" he asked, startled and unsure, wondering if the man had mistaken him for someone else.
I am Danny Wacmor. "We spoke on the phone," the man replied, his head still slightly bowed.
Dave had been expecting Danny to arrive—but not like that. He had imagined a normal person walking up to him, not the overwhelming presence standing before him now. This was beyond anything he had imagined.
"Young Master," Danny said cautiously, "where is Madam Victoria—your mother?"
The moment Danny asked, the expression on Dave's face changed. He paused for a long moment before answering.
"My mother… she died of cancer nine years ago. It's just been me ever since."
Danny's head lifted slightly, his eyes wide with shock. He hadn't been prepared for that answer.
"Oh my God… that's terrible. I don't know how my master will take this news."
He took a deep breath, then added, "Come with me. He wishes to see you
Dave excitated for a moment before standing up as Danny escorted him to the car. The men in black suits hurriedly opened the back door, allowing Dave and Danny to get in. People in the park were stunned by what they had just witnessed.
"Don't tell me that guy just bowed to that beggar like he was his boss."
"I'm not sure... maybe he just wanted to help him. But still—that's just a beggar."
Whispers rippled through the crowd as the car drove off, leaving behind a trail of curiosity and disbelief.
Wow, this is incredible, Dave thought. He had never ridden in a car this luxurious before. It felt like the entire vehicle had been customized to match the taste and comfort of its user. This wasn't just an ordinary luxury car—it was something far beyond that.
Dave relaxed into the plush seat, the soft leather cushioning his tired body. It had been a long time since he had rested on something so comfortable—not since his days back at the Lapis home.
Time passed quietly as they drove for nearly an hour. Eventually, the car came to a smooth stop in front of a shining silver gate. It opened slowly, almost ceremoniously, as they glided through.
By then, Dave had already fallen asleep, lulled by the gentle motion of the car and the soft embrace of the seat. When they reached their final stop, Danny gently tapped him on the shoulder.
"Master, we are here," he said in a soft, respectful tone.
Dave blinked his eyes as he woke up, not even realizing when he had dozed off. As his eyes adjusted, the men in the car behind them stepped out briefly. Both of them opened the door for Dave and Danny, as they both bowed their heads at a full ninety-degree angle, showing their utmost respect.
"Wow..." Dave's mouth fell open as he stepped out of the car. In front of him stood a massive mansion—far larger than any home he had ever seen. The sight was breathtaking. Near the entrance, a grand water fountain flowed gracefully, adorned with beautifully designed mermaid sculptures. It was a true work of art—one could stand there and admire it for hours.
"Young master, this way," Danny said, snapping Diava out of his thoughts. He led the way, bowing his head like a butler as he walked.
Where are we? What's this place? "I thought you said we were coming to meet my father," Diava asked, his curiosity growing as they walked toward the mansion's grand entrance.
Danny glanced at him with a sincere smile. "Yes, of course, young master. This is the Wayne Mansion. Come along—my master is expecting your arrival. He's eager to meet you."
As they approached the front door, two men in sleek black suits and dark sunglasses stood silently on either side. They looked more like hit men than security. One of them stepped forward and, with perfect timing, opened the door just as Dave and Danny reached it. Without a word they stepped inside.
"Oh my God... it's even bigger inside," Dave blurted out, not realizing he had spoken aloud. His eyes darted around in awe, taking in the breathtaking beauty that surrounded him.
Above him hung a massive, glittering chandelier—its crystals catching the light like a cascade of stars. Dave had never seen anything so luxurious. He had thought the outside of the mansion was impressive, but he was wrong. The interior was something else entirely—elegant, refined, and designed with a vintage touch. It felt more like a gallery of art than a home.
"This way, young master," Danny said, gently guiding him down the hallway. The walls were lined with ornate wallpaper and golden-framed portraits, each step echoing softly against the marble floor.
They stopped at a grand door. Danny bowed his head like a proper butler once again and said, "After you, young master."
Dave opened the door and glanced back at Danny, who gave a slight nod before quietly closing it behind him.
The room he had stepped into appeared to look like a library. Tall shelves lined the walls, filled with neatly stacked books that almost reached up to the high ceiling. The scent of aged paper filled the air. As Diava walked in slowly, his eyes landed on a man sitting in a wheelchair just outside on the balcony. It seemed like he was reading a book.
"Hello..." Dave said softly, standing in the middle of the room.
The man heard his voice and turned in his wheelchair. He was bald, his face looked pale and drawn, as if illness had worn him down. His sunken eyes widened, and the book he was holding slipped out of his hand as he wheeled himself forward, emotion swelling in his face.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he approached diava, his voice trembling with disbelie.