Chapter 1

I was rushing to fly overseas to close a multi-billion dollar deal with European high society, but my private jet was intercepted right as it was about to take off.

A man in a suit stormed onto the plane, yelling:

“Who gave you permission to touch my jet? Do you even know how much this thing costs? More than you'll ever make!”

I figured he had mistaken the hangar, so I tried to explain:

“Look closely, buddy. This is Hangar #25, and this plane belongs to me.”

My explanation only made him angrier.

“My plane is in Hangar #25! My wife bought it for me last month, you think I'd be mistaken?”

“Get your people off my plane, now, or you'll regret it!”

Seeing how unreasonable he was, I decided to have the airline staff pull up the plane's ownership records.

Just as I was confidently preparing to put this arrogant punk in his place, I heard the bombshell drop from the airline staff.

“Brandon, please exit the aircraft as soon as possible. This plane actually belongs to Kamran.”

“All clear, ready for takeoff!”

“Hold on, we have an emergency on the ground!”

Just as the pilot prepared for departure, a sudden warning came from ground control.

I ordered a flight attendant to open the cabin door. I wanted to see what the hell was happening.

“What are you people doing?! How can so many of you guard this hangar and let someone touch my plane?! Am I paying millions in storage fees every year for nothing?!”

Through the cabin door, I saw a sharp-suited young man raging at the hangar attendant.

Behind the suited man stood a group of young men and women, all looking pretty smug and mocking him.

The attendant, clearly flustered from being yelled at, pointed at me in the cabin doorway and shouted:

“This… this really isn’t my fault. When the plane was registered for storage, the owner was only listed as Mr. Kamran.”

“That gentleman arrived and said he was the owner, and that his name was Brandon, so I opened the door for him.”

Upon hearing this, the young man’s eyes were bloodshot as he stormed onto the plane and roared at us:

“Who gave you permission to touch my jet?! Don't you know how much this thing costs? More than you'll ever make?!”

My flight crew were all people I’d temporarily recruited from the flight base. Seeing the situation, they all looked at me with questioning eyes.

“Brandon, this is…”

I waved them off, signaling them to stay cool.

I turned to size up the young man in the suit. He had a handsome face, but he reeked of alcohol.

Probably just some drunk who got the wrong hangar.

To avoid any unnecessary drama and keep things moving, I patiently explained:

“Hey, buddy, look closely. This is Hangar #25. This plane definitely belongs to me.”

“Check the hangar next to it, maybe your plane is parked there.”

As soon as I said that, the group of young men and women started openly mocking the suited man:

“Kamran, you’ve been bragging about bringing us to see your private jet, and this is it?”

“Your claims are a bit outlandish, aren't they? Your family might have some cash, but do you even know what a Gulfstream 700 costs? Your dad's net worth isn't enough for that!”

“Let's just leave. We don’t need this humiliation.”

Hearing his friends’ doubts, the suited man started pacing frantically, then grabbed the hangar attendant by the collar:

“You were there that day when my wife gave me the plane, right?! You need to vouch for me!”

The hangar attendant looked awkward:

“I… I think there was something like that, but…”

Before the attendant could finish, Kamran eagerly cut him off, boasting to his friends:

“See?! Didn't I tell you I have a private jet? Didn’t I?!”