PTE

ATED I

he had no place to go, he only kept his cheap canvas duffel bag wedged securely between his ankles as he slept on a damp wooden bench on the Sleep hadn't come. Every time he closed h

f yellow cabs, clutching insulated coffee cups as they swept past the brass doors of polished glass towers. Michael stood on the corner of Fourth and

of his friends he had helped back then at their lowest, he then agreed to visit them first, after tha

ed him favors, people who had promised to stand by him when he launched his firm, and a good friend of his who he h

ines by heart, where Godson took his morning espresso, where Juli

odson Vance, a senior associate at a mid-tier venture firm whom Michael had helped pass his

aid, stepping up to

faint bruise along his jawline, and the dark circles under his hollow eyes. He didn't offer a

carry to neighboring tables. "I didn't expect to see you here, I need tw

lmost like a pitying snort. He picked up his cup, swirled th

e coffee shop before leaning forward. "Michael, your father calle

comm

is is between you and me. I helped you when you were stuck trying to write yo

one thousand naira from his leather clip, slid it across the marble top, and stood up, buttoning his coat. "Take th

blood burned like liquid fire. He didn't touch the money. He turned on

of the Grand Regency Hotel. Julian was an angel investor Michael had brought into

leather couches turned to glance over. "Michael, my boy, you're living in a fantasy world. Word on the street is your

chael insisted, his knuckles turning white

ing up and tossing his napkin onto his lunch plate. "Do yourself a favor and

fternoon, the third contact wouldn't even let him past the security desk in the lobby. The receptio

essional reputation before the sun had even reached its peak. He felt the eyes of passersby on him, executives who recognized his face from his father's annual galas now looking right through him as if he were i

roar of the city traf

r drove towards