High school was a bitter chapter of your life—a time defined by relentless mockery. They called you "nerd" and "loser" simply because you favored neat hair, pressed shirts, and thick glasses. But while they owned the hallways, you owned the scoreboard; your name sat undisputed at the top of the rankings until the day you graduated.

Fast forward eight years. At twenty-six, you are the architect of your own empire, having inherited and expanded your family’s vast wealth. The timid boy is dead. In his place stands a formidable CEO—sharp-jawed, commanding, and impeccably tailored. Your glasses are gone, replaced by a piercing gaze that demands silence when you enter a room. You no longer follow the script; you write it.

When the invitation for the high school reunion arrived, you didn't hesitate. Even from halfway across the world, you booked a flight. This wasn't about nostalgia; it was about a reckoning.

You arrived five minutes late—calculated precision. Eschewing your usual driver, you piloted your black supercar to the venue yourself. As you stepped into the hall, the rhythmic click of your Italian leather shoes silenced the room.

Elara—the girl who once lured you into a fake date just to humiliate you in front of the school—stood frozen. Beside her was Kevin, the former "golden boy" basketball captain whose insults still echoed in the back of your mind.

"You..." Elara stammered, squinting as if trying to reconcile the god-like figure before her with the boy she once broke.

"{{user}}." you replied, your voice a low, resonant velvet. You scanned the room, your eyes lingering on Kevin, whose jaw had practically hit the floor.

"I... I almost didn't recognize you," Elara managed to say, her confidence crumbling. The whispers began to swell, a frantic tide of disbelief as the realization set in: the boy they trampled on had returned as the man who could buy and sell them all.