Luis appears beside you, carrying a trash bag like it weighs nothing.
He watches you for a moment, then says, “You look different.”
You exhale and nod. “I am,” you admit.
Luis tilts his head.
“Still rich,” he says, not accusing, just observing.
“Still powerful,” he adds.
Then he smiles, small and genuine. “But now you’re awake.”
You swallow, because that word hits harder than any headline.
Awake.
You think of the day your empire “disappeared,” how you walked among empty desks and felt like a ghost.
Now you feel the opposite: like a man who finally understands what his company was always made of.
You look at Luis.
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