Michael pushed open the revolving door of the Brioni boutique on Fifth Avenue. The handmade suits in the window shone with cashmere under the spotlight. The salesperson's professional smile faded a little when she saw the Zara casual clothes on him, but when he pointed to a dark gray Canali suit, his smile immediately became sincere: "Sir, you have a good eye. This is the Milan catwalk style this fall and winter."
The mirror in the fitting room reflected a tall figure - the dark gray dark pattern suit outlined the tighter lines after taking physical enhancers, and paired with a Charvet shirt, the former "soft rice man" in Queens disappeared, replaced by a calm and sharp brow. The salesperson's hand holding the gold-plated shopping bag trembled a little: "Sir, you are born for this suit!"
The moment the black card was swiped, the beeping sound of the POS machine sounded like the closing bell of the NYSE. Michael walked out of the store with shopping bags of Brioni, Zegna and Loro Piana, and sat down on a bench in Central Park. His mobile banking account showed a balance of $9.8 million, enough to buy an apartment with a terrace in Tribeca.
In the VIP room of Chase Bank, Jason circled Michael three times: "Mike! Your Tom Ford suit... and Patek Philippe?! How come you look like a different person after not seeing you for a few days?"
Michael pushed the property certificate and transfer slip over: "Pay off Robert's mortgage."
"Pay off the mortgage?" Jason almost spilled his coffee on his Armani tie, "Your Blue Ocean Tech (BOT)..."
"Cleared out." Michael said in a flat tone.
"Cleared... How much did you clear out?" Jason's voice trembled.
Michael made a "10" gesture. "10 million dollars?!" Jason stood up suddenly, attracting the attention of the financial advisor next to him, "My God! You are the God of Wall Street! We must go to Per Se tonight to celebrate! I'll treat you!"
"I'll treat you," Michael interrupted him, "Call Amanda and buy her an Hermès. She was worried about me borrowing money last time."
Jason patted his shoulder with a gleam in his eyes: "Okay! I'll call Amanda right now!"
In the organic tonic area of Whole Foods Market, Michael pointed to the Alaskan wild sea cucumbers and Japanese Hokkaido dried abalone in the glass cabinet: "These, and the Italian white truffle, two of each." The shopping guide looked at the Patek Philippe 5270P on his wrist and packed the package three times faster.
Back at the brownstone apartment in Queens, before I even entered the door, I heard the loud voice of my neighbor Linda: "Mary, I'm not saying anything bad about you, Michael didn't want a good wife in the Upper East Side, what can he do now? My Samantha has just been promoted to VP, and her annual salary is almost seven figures!"
Robert smoked his cigar in silence, and Mary forced a smile: "The child has grown up and has his own ideas."
Linda wanted to say more, but Michael pushed the door open - his Brioni suit made him look tall and straight, and he was holding a gift box with the gold-plated Fortnum & Mason logo in his hand.
Linda's smile froze on her face, and her eyes were fixed on the gift boxes: "Mike... what are you doing..."
"Aunt Linda." Michael nodded lightly and put the gift box on the walnut counter, "Dad, Mom, I bought some things to replenish my body."
Mary looked at the Alaskan sea cucumber and white truffle in the gift box, and then looked at her son's high-end custom clothes, and was speechless for a while. Linda came over and said sourly: "It's a lot of money, right? Where is Mike working now?"
Michael ignored her and turned to Mary: "Mom, I'm hungry."
"Hey! I'll do it right away!" Mary woke up as if from a dream and walked quickly to the kitchen, her steps were as brisk as when she was young tap dancing. Linda was left there, and touched her artificial pearl necklace awkwardly: "Then... I'll go back first."
After Linda left, Michael handed the Chase Bank settlement certificate to Robert. The old man put on his reading glasses, and his finger passed over the words "Loan has been fully paid off". He suddenly patted his son's shoulder hard, and the cigar ash fell on Michael's Brioni suit: "Good! Good! Just pay it off!"
Mary poked her head out of the kitchen, tears in her eyes: "Michael, Mom fried you your favorite Maine lobster!"
Michael looked at his parents' relaxed brows, and suddenly felt that the lights of the luxury stores on Fifth Avenue were far inferior to the smell of butter-fried lobster wafting from the kitchen at this moment. He took out his mobile phone and opened the foreign exchange trading software - the system prompted: "Snow Dollar is about to rebound due to the energy agreement, it is recommended to open a position." But he did not operate immediately, but first sent a message to Jason: "Per Se, at 8 o'clock tonight, I have booked a seat with a view of the Empire State Building."
Outside the window, the sunset in Manhattan dyed the brownstone apartment golden, and the second hand of the Patek Philippe on Michael's wrist moved, just like the trading hall bell he had heard on Wall Street - this time, he was no longer a bystander.