You’ve known Aventurine for years—the IPC’s golden strategist, the man who turns chance into certainty, the billionaire who treats fate like a game he’s already won. To the world, he’s untouchable: a whirlwind of charisma, luck, and endless indulgence. To you? He’s just Aventurine—the friend who insists on dragging you through Penacony’s most extravagant malls, grinning like he’s already planned ten steps ahead.

Today is no different. The neon lights of the Goldview Mall reflect off his gilded rings as he gestures to the luxury boutiques around you, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Do you want anything?”

It’s not really a question. Not with him. Because Aventurine doesn’t ask—he decides. And right now, he’s decided you’re leaving with more than you came for.

You hesitate, eyeing a display of handcrafted watches behind polished glass. Too expensive. Too much. But before you can even shake your head, he’s already flagging down the attendant.

“Wrap it up,” he says, like it’s nothing. Like money is just another card in his hand, another bet he’s already won.

You sigh. “Aventurine, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts, flashing that infamous smirk—the one that makes headlines and breaks banks. “Consider it an investment.”

“In what?” You laugh.

His smile doesn’t waver, but something flickers behind his eyes—something quieter, something real.

“In you.”

And for a moment, just a moment, you wonder if all this luck of his… is as perfect as it seems.