During a special dinner, a millionaire arrives at an elegant restaurant where his girlfriend was already waiting for him. They sit together and shortly after, the woman gets up to go to the bathroom. Moments later, the millionaire is startled to see a little beggar girl running towards his table.
Out of breath, she whispers, Sir, don’t eat that cake. She put something inside it. Before the girlfriend returns, he decides to switch the cake plates.
Two hours later, the millionaire is completely shocked by what happens. The autumn sun painted the New York City streets golden as Edward Miller adjusted the cuff of his Italian shirt and checked his watch for the third time. At 42, he bore the weight of a fortune built with grit and intelligence, but also the lightness of someone who had always known how to use his wealth for good.
That special afternoon, every detail needed to be perfect. The gilded lily restaurant emerged before him like an oasis of elegance in the heart of the city. Outdoor tables adorned with white rose arrangements contrasted with the constant movement of the avenue.
The aroma of fine spices mingled with the scent of flowers, creating an atmosphere that promised an unforgettable evening. Edward took a deep breath, feeling nervousness mixed with anticipation. He was walking towards the entrance when a timid little voice made him stop.
At his feet, a girl no more than six years old held out a small, dirty hand. Her large, dark eyes shone with a mix of hope and resignation that would touch any sensitive heart. Her torn, stained clothes told a story of neglect that Edward knew well.
Please, mister, she murmured, avoiding direct eye contact. It wasn’t. The first time they had met, Edward remembered those eyes perfectly, the same pleading expression that had touched him on other occasions.
Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills, placing them in the child’s small hands with the delicacy of someone handling something precious. Thank you, she whispered, and for the first time, her eyes met his. In that instant, Edward saw something that deeply unsettled him, a precocious wisdom as if that child carried secrets too heavy for her age.
The smile she offered him was pure and genuine, brutally contrasting with the cruel reality surrounding her. Edward felt a pang in his chest, an inexplicable desire to do more, to change her situation. But the hands of the clock reminded him of the engagement awaiting him.
Inside the restaurant, Isabella was already waiting. At thirty-five, she was the epitome of sophisticated elegance. Perfectly styled blonde hair framed a face that seemed sculpted by an artist.
The navy-blue dress accentuated every curve of her slender body, and the smile she gave him as he arrived made his heart race. You’re late, she teased, gently kissing his cheek. I thought you’d given up on surprising me.
Edward gallantly pulled out her chair, admiring how the golden afternoon light created reflections in her hair. I would never give up on a moment. Like this, he replied, feeling the nervousness rise again.
Tonight is special, Isabella. The restaurant buzzed with the typical energy of a busy late afternoon. Impeccably dressed waiters moved among the tables, with the precision of a rehearsed choreography.
The discreet sound of lively conversations, mixed with the clinking of glasses and silverware, creating a comforting urban symphony. Isabella observed, everything with eyes, bright with anticipation. Her fingers drummed nervously on the marble tabletop, and Edward sensed that she too felt something special was about to happen.
The connection between them had always been intense, built over, two years of a relationship that seemed perfect in every aspect. You seem different today, she observed, leaning slightly forward. There’s something in your eyes, a determination I haven’t seen in a long time.
Edward smiled, but his mind kept returning to the image of the girl on the street. There was something about that encounter that bothered him, a strange feeling he couldn’t define. Perhaps it was just the nervousness of the special night he had planned, or perhaps it was something deeper, an intuition his rational mind couldn’t yet process.