Bernard’s mind raced. He had already ignored some whispers—about his impatience at his age, about secret phone calls. But the boy’s conviction gnawed at him. He signaled to the head waiter. « Take the soup to the back. Call the police. Have it analyzed. »
The room let out a collective sigh. Marissa’s mask slipped, her lips tightening. « You can’t be serious. »
But Bernard was terribly so.
Within minutes, two officers arrived. The soup was taken away. A search of Marissa’s bag revealed the small bottle, half-filled with a clear liquid. The officers exchanged a grim look.
Marissa’s protests turned to screams when they handcuffed her. « This is a mistake! Bernard, tell them! You know me! »
But Bernard remained motionless, his face gray with astonishment. When they led him away, a stunned silence fell over the café.
When it was all over, Bernard looked at Malik—the boy who had saved his life. The boy stood there, trembling, expecting to be thrown out. Instead, Bernard said gently, « Sit down. »
Malik hesitated, then slid onto the chair opposite him. Bernard poured water into a glass and pushed it in front of him. « Drink. You look like you haven’t eaten in days. »
Malik seized the glass like a treasure. His stomach rumbled loudly, and Bernard signaled for food to be brought.
As Malik devoured the bread that had just been served, Bernard asked, « Where are your parents? »
The boy lowered his eyes. « I don’t have any. My mother died when I was ten. My father before that. Since then, I’ve managed on my own. »
Something stirred in Bernard’s chest — a rare surge of empathy. He had almost been killed by the person closest to him, and yet saved by a stranger no one would have noticed.
And for the first time in years, Bernard Green wondered if, perhaps, his fortune was not destined for more than himself.
The toxicology report arrived the next day: the bottle contained a deadly poison. If Bernard had eaten the soup, he would have died within minutes. Marissa’s betrayal was a bitter blow, but equally profound was her gratitude toward Malik.
Bernard invited the boy to his villa. Malik stood awkwardly in the marble hall, overwhelmed by the chandeliers and polished floors. « This is not a place for me, » he muttered.
But Bernard shook his head. « Your place is anywhere your worth is recognized. And yesterday, you proved you were worth more than anyone. »
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