A sleek black car pulled up to the curb.
The driver stepped out quickly, opening the rear door as if timing itself mattered. From inside emerged Adrian Cole—a man whose name appeared regularly in business magazines and charity galas.
A self-made millionaire.
A tech visionary.
A man who had built everything from nothing—or so the headlines claimed.
His suit was perfectly tailored. His expression was not.
“Reschedule it,” Adrian said sharply into his phone. “I’m not attending another pointless—”
He stopped.
Because the boy didn’t move.
Most people shifted, stood up, or at least tried to appear invisible when someone like Adrian approached.
But Evan just looked up.
Calm. Quiet. Unafraid.
Adrian lowered his phone slightly.
“Why are you sitting here?” he asked, his tone more annoyed than curious.
Evan blinked once, then nodded toward the glass doors.
“I like the music,” he said softly.
Adrian frowned. “Music?”
“The piano.”
Adrian let out a short laugh, almost automatic.
“You know what that is?” he asked. “Do you have any idea how much lessons cost?”
Evan nodded.
“I know,” he said.
There was no bitterness in his voice.
That annoyed Adrian even more.
For a moment, something uncomfortable flickered in his chest—something he quickly dismissed.
Then, with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes, Adrian said:
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