Godly Investor: A Hundred Trillion Dollars For Investment And Donations

without being told Ethan knew serenity uncle is relishing this too much, narrowing slightly. This isn't about proving anything—it's about showing everyone he's in control.

Serenity, sitting nearby, looked increasingly frustrated. She leaned toward Ethan, her voice low but fierce. "He's dragging this out on purpose," she whispered. "He doesn't care about the truth—he just wants to humiliate you."

Ethan glanced at her, his expression softening for a brief moment. "Let him," he said quietly. "The truth will speak for itself."

At that moment Serenity's uncle finally stopped scrolling, holding his phone up for everyone to see. "I'll start with the first name on the list," he announced, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction. "And I'll continue until we get to the bottom of this."

Immediately the room buzzed with anticipation, all eyes fixed on him as he dialed the first number. Ethan remained composed, his thoughts steady. He wants to make this a spectacle, Ethan mused. But he's the one who's about to be embarrassed.

The room had grown increasingly tense with each call Serenity's uncle made. Every time he hung up the phone, the same result echoed through the space: "No, I didn't send that item." The murmurs of doubt among the guests began to shift, their tones now tinged with curiosity and skepticism—not toward Ethan, but toward Serenity's uncle.

Ethan stood calmly, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze steady. Inside, his thoughts were sharp and focused. He's digging his own grave, Ethan mused, watching Serenity's uncle fumble with his phone, his confidence waning with each unanswered accusation. This is what happens when you let pride drive your actions.

By the time Serenity's uncle reached the eighth call, his voice had lost its earlier bravado. The guests began exchanging knowing looks, their whispered conversations taking a more critical tone. "It's starting to look bad for him," someone muttered. "He was so sure of himself." Another added, "If he doesn't find proof, this is going to be humiliating."

However Serenity sat quietly, her hands resting in her lap, though her posture was tense.

Then She glanced at Ethan, whose calm demeanor hadn't wavered once throughout the ordeal. He's so composed, she thought, a mix of admiration and frustration bubbling within her. How does he stay so unshaken under all this pressure?

Serenity's uncle, meanwhile, was beginning to sweat. His voice carried a forced confidence as he moved to the ninth call. "It's possible," he said loudly, addressing the room as much as himself, "that the person who sent this gift might have dropped it off earlier and left. We shouldn't jump to conclusions just yet."

The murmurs grew louder, the crowd clearly unimpressed by his attempt to hedge his bets. Ethan caught Serenity's eye, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He's grasping at straws now, Ethan thought. He knows the truth is about to hit him.

Finally, Serenity's uncle reached the last name on his list. His hands trembled slightly as he dialed the number, and the room seemed to hold its collective breath. He cleared his throat, forcing a smile as he addressed the audience.

"This is the final name," he announced, his tone strained. "If it's not them, then perhaps… perhaps there was a misunderstanding."

The phone rang, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. Ethan watched him closely, noting the slight tremor in his hands, the beads of sweat forming on his brow. He's already preparing his excuse, Ethan thought, his gaze unwavering. But there's no way out of this.

The call connected, and a voice on the other end answered. Serenity's uncle introduced himself and explained the situation, his tone overly polite, almost desperate. But within moments, his expression fell, his face draining of color as the person on the other end firmly denied sending the gift.

"No," the voice said plainly. "That wasn't from me. I didn't send anything this time."

The line went dead, and the silence that followed was deafening. Serenity's uncle lowered his phone slowly, his hand trembling as he realized the gravity of what had just happened.

Immediately the room erupted into murmurs, the tide of opinion now fully turned against him.

At that moment he quickly remembered he didn't call someone.

without wasting anymore time he called the person and immediately the connected, and for a moment, the room held its collective breath, every eye trained on Serenity's uncle as he introduced himself and explained the situation. The voice on the other end, calm and composed, finally spoke.

"Yes," the caller said. "I did send a red necklace."

At that moment the room erupted into gasps, disbelief washing over the crowd like a wave. A few guests exchanged sharp whispers, their expressions shifting from skepticism toward Ethan to outright judgment.

"I knew it," someone muttered under their breath. "He's been lying this whole time."

However Before Ethan could react, one of the guests strode up to him, their eyes filled with accusation. Without asking, they snatched the necklace from his hands and walked it over to Serenity's uncle.

Serenity's uncle's face lit up with triumph, his earlier tension melting away as a smug smile spread across his lips. "I told you all," he declared, holding the necklace up as though it were a trophy. "But let's not leave room for any doubt. We'll switch to a video call so the sender can confirm this is theirs."

At that moment the murmurs in the room grew louder, a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Immediately Serenity's uncle adjusted his phone, turning on the video call feature. The screen flickered for a moment before the caller's face appeared, their expression neutral as they leaned closer to examine the necklace.

Everyone watched in silence as the caller studied the necklace intently. The tension in the room was almost suffocating, the seconds dragging on as the caller tilted their head, their brow furrowing slightly. Finally, they spoke, their voice carrying a note of surprise. "No," they said slowly, "this isn't the necklace I sent."

Immediately the room froze, the collective shock palpable. Serenity's uncle blinked, his triumphant smile faltering as confusion clouded his features.

"What do you mean it's not yours?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

The caller leaned back, shaking their head.

"This necklace is far more expensive than the one I sent. Mine was simple—a family heirloom with sentimental value. This… this is something else entirely."

The murmurs started up again, louder this time, as the crowd tried to process the revelation. The caller's gaze narrowed slightly through the screen, their tone turning sharp.

"Who brought this necklace? If it's not mine, then someone else must have placed it in the gifting section."

However Ethan remained calm, his hands now resting in his pockets as he watched the chaos unfold.

His earlier composure hadn't wavered, and now it seemed as though the tide was turning once again. Let them scramble, he thought, his expression neutral. The truth always finds its way out.

Serenity's uncle, on the other hand, looked visibly flustered, his confidence from moments earlier evaporating.

His grip on the necklace tightened as he glanced around the room, his gaze darting from the phone screen to the guests.

"That's impossible," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "If it's not yours, then whose is it?"

The caller's voice cut through the growing chatter.

"Who brought this necklace?"