Five months.
The passage of time in Winsten Stone's life was now measured not in grueling hours behind a cab wheel, but in the relentless, massive deposits that struck his accounts. The original fourteen million dollars had long been eclipsed; the $10 million monthly installments from Vance Corporation—the ludicrous fee for his nonexistent "consultancy"—had swollen his net worth to sixty-four million dollars. He was rich beyond any possible need, a concept he still hadn't fully internalized. He bought everything he wanted for Lily, yet the money accumulated faster than he could spend it, sitting in digital vaults like an unspent threat.
His confidence had solidified, growing hard and sharp as the edges of his Manhattan penthouse. He walked with a different posture now, adjusted to the weight of his suits and the deference of strangers. He didn't control his wealth, but he was learning to control the image of the man who possessed it. And most importantly, Lily was happy, glowing from the warmth of stability and opportunity. By proxy, Winsten found his own peculiar satisfaction.
Rose Margette had settled into her role as Winsten's secretary with breathtaking efficiency. She was the perfect human firewall, anticipating every need before it surfaced, and her presence in the apartment was a constant, calm hum of productivity.
Winsten was focused on a complicated news article about Blue Nova's latest market acquisition when Rose, working quietly at the far end of the vast dining table, addressed him.
"Mr. Stone," Rose said, her voice crisp and formal, without needing a phone. "I've confirmed the meeting with Aethelred Property Group for Tuesday. They have several off-market properties that align with your criteria."
Winsten grunted his approval. He couldn't even recall asking Rose to set up that meeting—the AI had clearly funneled the desire for a luxury exclusive property directly into the flow of his tasks, and Rose, anticipating the next logical step of a wealthy client, executed it without question.
"Thank you, Rose. Did I provide criteria?"
"You did, sir, indirectly. Large, isolated, and suitable for a protective detail," she replied, her tone never wavering. Rose did not ask why, only how.
Just as she finished, the front door chime signaled the return of Lily. The fifteen-year-old bounded in, tossing her bespoke leather backpack onto a chair.
"Hey, Winsten!" Lily called out, shedding her school uniform jacket.
Rose, who was already present, offered a friendly, low greeting. "Hello, Lily." Rose maintained a professional yet amiable demeanor with Lily, always ready to facilitate her schedules or needs.
Lily dropped onto the massive leather couch with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm so tired from school. Any food? I'm starving."
Winsten frowned slightly. "No, the chef called out today. I think she's sick."
Lily deflated instantly. "Wait, no food?"
"Relax, smart mouth, we're gonna eat out," Winsten countered, flashing a rare, easy grin. "You, me, and Rose. We're going to have a proper dinner out on the town."
Lily's eyes lit up, but a new thought struck her. "Can I invite Gwen?"
Winsten's smile faded slightly. "Gwen? Of course."
"Yeah," Lily said, her tone confirming their strong connection. "Gwen has always been like a big sister, and since we reconnected she's been taking me to coffee, shopping, movies. We hang out often."
Winsten knew. He and Gwen had only shared lunch once after the humiliation of the reunion, a quick, awkward attempt to reconnect before his life dissolved into money and fear. Since that day, he hadn't seen her. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, the headache of being a guardian and a wealthy asset settling in. He realized with a jolt that he had been so insulated by the AI and Rose's efficiency, he had no clue Lily met with Gwen every week. He knew he needed to have a separate, urgent discussion with Rose about her reporting structure regarding Lily, and a much more volatile, silent conversation with the AI about this blatant gap in the data it was feeding him.
"She's been spending money on you? And you have a lot of clothes already, Lily."
"I declined, honestly, but she kept insisting," Lily said, her tone softening. "She said I'm like a little sister to her."
Winsten knew Gwen was a registered nurse who made respectable money, but he didn't like the thought of her footing the bill for his sister when he could buy the store out three times over. It was an infringement on his primary responsibility, and an insult to his current, forced status.
"Yeah, fine," Winsten sighed. "Invite Gwen. And only Gwen. No extras."
Lily beamed, victory secured. "Thanks! Copy!"
Rose, who had remained silent during the brother-sister negotiation, smiled warmly. "I'm enjoying the interaction, Mr. Stone. It's nice to see some normalcy."
She then turned professional again. "Regarding Lily's movements with Gwen, Mr. Stone, Lily always notifies me where she is and where she went—usually via text. I didn't ask her to, but she did it anyway, I believe knowing you would be worried. I have the transcripts listed down in case you ever asked, as I'm aware you are her primary guardian."
Winsten felt a profound, almost painful relief that had nothing to do with the AI and Vance. This was an act of genuine human foresight—Rose, an employee, had taken a step to protect his sister because she intuitively understood his worry, not because an algorithm had dictated it. For once, a human being who wanted the best for him had removed the primary point of stress from his life, and it was a comfort the AI could never truly replicate.
"Okay, Rose," Winsten said, feeling a warmth that was entirely his own. "That's good. That's very good."
Hours passed. As the sun began to dip below the skyscrapers, painting the sky in violent shades of orange and purple, Winsten, Lily, and Rose all got ready. Winsten changed into a dark, tailored blazer, while Lily wore a respectful, modest dress. Rose, ever immaculate, was dressed in an elegant but understated evening dress.
Sarah, the driver, waited downstairs. They all climbed into the massive, obsidian Rolls-Royce Phantom, which slid silently onto the New York streets. Winsten gave Sarah the coordinates for the hospital in Brooklyn where Gwen worked.
They eventually reached the hospital, a large medical center bustling with activity even in the early evening.
Lily called Gwen and asked her to come outside.
Moments later, Gwen emerged, wearing her scrubs and looking tired but professional. She paused on the sidewalk when she saw the long, gleaming black Rolls-Royce parked conspicuously at the curb. "Wow," she murmured, and she wasn't alone. Several hospital workers on a lunch break or leaving their shifts stopped to stare.
Lily had mentioned she was coming to pick her up, but she hadn't mentioned the car.
Then, out of nowhere, the rear door of the Rolls-Royce swung open. Lily jumped out, rushing the few steps to Gwen and wrapping her in a tight hug.
Gwen stumbled slightly, caught off guard. "Did you just… come out of the Rolls-Royce?"
Gwen was an educated, highly skilled nurse. She made excellent money for an average citizen, but a Rolls-Royce Phantom—a car with a sticker price easily exceeding half a million dollars—was far outside the bounds of her imagination. It was the chariot of oligarchs and titans.
Lily beamed, delighted by Gwen's reaction. "Yeah! Isn't it amazing?!"
Winsten stepped out of the passenger side, already moving to usher the evening forward. "Hey, let's go. I'm hungry."
Gwen, still confused, simply followed Lily into the cavernous, leather-lined back seat.
As they drove, the city lights streaming past the tinted windows, Winsten leaned back and performed the formal introduction, noting this was the first time his two separate worlds were physically colliding.
"Gwen," Winsten said, nodding toward the front. "This is Rose Margette, my secretary. Rose, this is Gwen, my oldest friend."
Rose, seated in the passenger seat, gave a polite, measured nod toward the rear-view mirror. "A pleasure, Gwen. Lily speaks very highly of you."
Gwen, still processing the car, the wealth, and the presence of a secretary, managed a brief, nervous greeting. "It's nice to meet you, Rose."
During the rest of the drive, Winsten introduced Sarah, their driver. This only served to leave Gwen more confused. A secretary? A driver? Just months ago, Winsten was driving a cab in East New York; this was not just a man with a decent job, this was a man running a private empire. Gwen felt a growing, icy dread—this leap in status made no sense. She had been hanging out with Lily every week, and the girl hadn't breathed a word about this extreme transformation.
They soon arrived at their destination: a five-star, luxury restaurant known for its prohibitive prices and Michelin-starred chef.
Before they were seated, Winsten turned to Sarah. "Sarah, you're joining us. Hand the keys to the valet. You and Rose are joining us for dinner."
Winsten did not look down on his secretary or his driver. They took care of him and Lily, navigating the absurd reality of his life. In return, he would take care of them, treating them as part of the family circle.
Winsten, Lily, Gwen, Rose, and Sarah settled into a luxurious booth and had an amazing dinner and dessert. They talked, shared easy laughter, and enjoyed a wonderful evening where, for a few hours, the AI and corporate dread were forgotten.
It was around 7 p.m. when they all climbed back into the Rolls-Royce, satisfied and relaxed.
Winsten leaned forward and gave Sarah a new address.
"I have a surprise for everyone," Winsten announced with a slight smile, directing the comment toward Lily and Gwen.
The Rolls-Royce pulled away from the restaurant. After a quiet, twenty-five minute drive, the vehicle came to a smooth stop right in front of a luxury jewelry store—one of those exclusive boutiques where the security guards look like ex-military and the windows hold more value than most suburban blocks.
The end of the road had arrived, but for Winsten, the cost of his gilded cage was about to be paid in diamonds.