Godly Investor: A Hundred Trillion Dollars For Investment And Donations

Serenity's uncle stood frozen for a moment, his earlier smugness evaporating as the man on the video call studied the necklace one last time.

Again the caller's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "This isn't mine," he repeated. "This necklace… it could be worth up to three million dollars. Whoever brought it must be someone—"

However before he could finish, Serenity's uncle hastily cut the call, his hands trembling slightly as he lowered the phone.

The abrupt end to the call only added fuel to the growing murmurs in the room.

"What did he just say?" someone whispered. "Three million dollars?"

"Who could afford that?" another voice chimed in. "It can't be a mistake."

The murmuring spread like wildfire, filling the air with a chaotic hum of speculation. Guests leaned toward one another, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright disbelief.

However Ethan stood silently, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he observed the scene.

'So predictable,' Ethan thought, watching Serenity's uncle visibly squirm under the weight of the room's attention. The man's earlier confidence had drained completely, replaced by a mix of panic and desperation.

"Three million dollars?" someone near the front repeated, their voice louder now.

"Who in this room could bring something like that?"

They would believe what they just heard.

The question hung in the air, and Serenity's uncle's face turned pale. He quickly cleared his throat, attempting to regain some semblance of control. "Let's not get carried away," he said, his voice uneven.

"It could be a mistake. Maybe the man on the call exaggerated—"

"Exaggerated?"

At that moment Serenity's voice cut through the noise, sharp and direct. She stood from her seat, her gaze locked on her uncle.

"Why would he exaggerate? He had no reason to lie. If anything, he seemed genuinely surprised by the necklace, and without being told we all heard what he just said and the surprise in his voice."

Upon hearing what serenity just said.

The crowd quieted, their attention shifting to Serenity. Her calm but firm demeanor left no room for argument. Ethan caught her eye for a brief moment, offering her a small, almost imperceptible nod of approval.

The room buzzed with whispers, the guests exchanging glances and hushed words. The question was on everyone's lips: Who is Ethan, really?

Ethan took a step forward, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as they scanned the room. He reached out and took the necklace back from Serenity uncle.

His movements were deliberate, and his grip on the box was firm, as though reclaiming not just the necklace but also his dignity.

He glanced briefly at Serenity, whose worried eyes seemed to plead for him to handle the situation carefully. If it weren't for her… Ethan thought, a flicker of frustration passing through him. He didn't owe the York family anything, yet he found himself tolerating their baseless accusations for her sake.

At that moment Ethan turned his attention back to Serenity's uncle, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade.

"Uncle," he began, his tone calm but laced with authority, "perhaps there's something you'd like to say to me."

Upon hearing what Ethan just said.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Serenity's uncle visibly tensed, his jaw tightening as the weight of Ethan's words settled over him. He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting toward the guests, who now watched him with a mix of expectation and judgment.

"I—" he started, his voice faltering. His mind raced, desperately searching for a way out.

Kneel down and apologize to this boy? he thought, the very idea burning his pride. He squared his shoulders, forcing his voice to steady.

"Everyone here knows," he said loudly, "that you can't afford a necklace worth three million dollars."

Upon hearing what serenity Uncle just said.

The crowd murmured in agreement, though their tones were less certain now. Ethan raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he listened.

without being told he knows he was clinging to the narrative because it's all he has left.

Serenity's uncle pressed on, his voice growing louder as if trying to convince himself as much as the others.

"That necklace doesn't belong to you, Ethan. It's impossible. Someone else must have left it here, and sooner or later, they'll show up to claim it."

Again the tension in the room was intense, the crowd torn between doubt and curiosity. Serenity's uncle stood tall, clearly hoping his words would sway the tide of opinion back in his favor. But the murmurs that followed were less supportive, the audience now questioning not just Ethan's identity but also the uncle's motives.

At that moment the tension in the room grew unbearable as Serenity's uncle made his desperate attempt to shift the narrative, his words clear but unconvincing.

Now the crowd, once murmuring with skepticism toward Ethan, now seemed to focus their judgment squarely on Serenity's uncle. Their gazes were sharp, expectant, and unrelenting.

Ethan stood silently, his calm demeanor only heightening the pressure. He held the necklace firmly, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding. It was clear he didn't need to say a word—the truth of the situation was already unraveling.

At that moment Grandma York, who had been quietly observing from her seat, finally rose to her feet.

The room instantly fell silent, her movement alone enough to command attention. She looked directly at Serenity's uncle, her gaze piercing and unwavering. "Enough," she said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"You will apologize to Ethan. I won't sit down until you do."

immediately a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, the weight of her words sinking in. Hearing her mother words Serenity's uncle's face turned pale, his bravado crumbling under her mother's glare. He stammered, clearly panicking. "Mother, I was only trying to—"

"Apologize," Grandma York interrupted, her tone brooking no argument. Her posture was straight, her authority absolute.

"You've embarrassed this family enough for one evening. Make it right, or you'll leave me no choice but to take further action."

At that moment Serenity uncle jaw tightened, he didn't know what he was going to do, however from the look of things he could tell his mother was angry.

The crowd watched with bated breath as Serenity's uncle hesitated, his pride and fear warring within him.

Then his eyes darted toward the guests, searching for some kind of support, but all he found were judgmental stares and disapproving whispers.

Without bring told he knows the situation is spiraling out of control, he thought, panic rising in his chest.