Chapter 109: Dreamlike Experience

"There's no need... let them go," Miranda spoke up, somewhat fearfully, uncertain whether her words would have any effect.

She despised these two men and didn't want anything to do with them in the future, but blood was thicker than water, and she couldn't find it in herself to be completely heartless.

The father and son were extremely afraid at this moment, the money now scattered on the ground as they relentlessly begged for mercy.

Antonio stood still and shook his head slightly, as if feeling a touch of regret.

"You can go. We, husband and wife, do not wish to see you again," Miranda said with a sigh of relief to the two men.

The father and son didn't dare to linger any longer. They scrambled up and stumbled away.

Miranda watched their retreating figures blankly, her eyes eventually brimming with tears.

A large hand reached out, wiping away her tears.

"Miranda, don't cry. Our future will improve." he said.

Miranda came back to her senses, grasping her husband's hand and nodding vigorously.

Even if there were no other benefits from the banquet, just the one million dollars they had now could tremendously improve their lives.

"Let's go."

Having gathered up the money, Stefano urged them to hurry. Mark and his wife nodded in agreement.

Just as Stefano was about to lead the way, he couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you going to put the money away first? Why keep holding it?"

Cradling one million dollars in cash was no light task, and even a strong man would tire from it.

But without hesitation, Mark shook his head, "It's okay, better to keep it close; I'm not tired at all."

This money was their hope for the future; he didn't want to leave it in this shabby shop.

With no surveillance and a faulty door, if a thief got in and stole it, they wouldn't even have the chance to cry.

Besides, he had a feeling that it wasn't just the threat of thieves; after they left, he suspected his own father-in-law might be the one to break in.

"Alright then." Seeing Mark's insistence, Stefano didn't bother further and led the group out.

"Which car do we take? Mine or Antonio's?"

Two military jeeps were parked in front of the door; one was the vehicle Antonio had crashed earlier, and the other belonged to Stefano.

Mark shivered and cast a stealthy glance at Antonio before saying, "Mr. Stefano's, perhaps."

Knowing the answer already, Stefano had only asked out of courtesy. He chuckled and signaled for the driver to bring the car over.

Mark locked the door and got into the vehicle.

The two cars sped away one after the other, and soon after they were out of sight; on the street corner, two figures, one older and one younger, popped their heads out. Observing for a while before they ran excitedly to the entrance of the restaurant.

They found some tools, smashed open the door, and both rushed in, scrambling over each other.

Within seconds an exasperated voice carried through:

"Mark, you bastard!"

Sitting in the car, Mark and his wife had initially thought that this sort of SUV would be an uncomfortable ride. To their surprise, the vehicle was extremely comfortable, and it didn't feel bumpy at all while moving.

Could this car be worth at least a million dollars?

They were anxious.

"Head to the Multi Diner," Stefano responded with a smile from the passenger seat, very amicable.

"Did you reserve a private room?" Mark inquired.

Multi Diner is arguably the best restaurant in Freton City. A single meal there could cost an ordinary family's annual income. For someone like Stefano, entertaining guests there was normal.

"We didn't reserve a private room."

Mark and his wife were taken aback, only to hear Stefano continue, "We've booked the entire restaurant."

Mark was astonished. "How much would that cost? Surely, millions of dollars won't even suffice?!"

"It's on the house," said Stefano with a chuckle. "The owner of Multi Diner is a subordinate of the person I represent. How could he dare to charge us?"

Had Mark not witnessed Stefano tossing around a million dollars as if it were nothing, he would have thought Stefano was boasting.

He didn't know who the owner of Multi Diner was, but he did know that even members of the four major families conducted themselves properly in there and never caused trouble.

Over the years, anyone who got too arrogant or caused issues at Multi Diner either vanished or went bankrupt - none had met a good end.

And yet, the restaurant's owner was just somebody's subordinate?

How terrifying must that person be?

Mark felt he needed to be very cautious at the upcoming banquet. He couldn't afford to get carried away with any sense of favor or triumph; otherwise, he might not even know how he died.

The more powerful the figure, the more unpredictable their temperament.

Utterly unfathomable.

"But before that, let's get you changed into a new set of clothes."

The vehicle continued on, turning into a somewhat secluded street that seemed empty, yet the cars parked along the curb were outrageous.

Rolls-Royce Phantom, Bugatti Veyron...

Had he not seen it for himself, Mark would never have known there were so many luxury cars in Freton City.

"Here lies Freton City's finest tailor shop, home to top-notch masters. To have a suit made here, you would normally need to book at least a month in advance, and even then, there's no guarantee of an appointment."

Listening to all this, Mark felt like he was in a dream. When he was a part of the Miller family's side branch and he thought was quite high-end. Now, seeing all this, he realized that compared to the true elite of Freton City, his former self was practically a beggar.

"One month in advance you need to book here? What are we doing here then? Did you make reservations for us a month ago?"

Mark's complexion changed; this indicated that the other party had been preparing for this day a month in advance and had even investigated all his physical data to tailor-make the clothes.

"How could that be? We only decided today."

"But..." Mark was incredulous, "didn't you say we needed to book a month in advance?"

"That's only because the reservation was made by us, usually people have to book one month in advance." Stefano spoke indifferently. "In fact, it was only an hour ago that I said we'd come here to pick up the clothes. I provided your measurements, and the tailoring shop urgently gathered all the master craftsmen to alter the garments that other customers had ordered, transforming them into styles and designs that you would like. It was a bit of a rush, but I believe you'll like them."

Yet Mark had his doubts. Whether the clothes looked good was subjective; he didn't even know what he liked, so how could the tailor know what to make?

But when he actually put on the clothes and saw Miranda in her dreamlike dress and her deeply enchanted expression, he was left speechless.

Even he was thrilled by the clothing on his body, not to mention a woman who loved beauty.

To the extent that when Miranda came out of her dazed state, her first question was, "Is one million dollars enough to buy this dress?"

It was so beautiful; she was considering spending the money they just received on it.

What future? It's not important. What's important is whether she can wear this dress again or not.

The employee, respectful and polite, replied, "Madam, the custom-making cost for this dress is three million six hundred fifty thousand dollars. You don't have to pay anything. By wearing them, these clothes - the one you're wearing, and Mr. Miller's - are yours now."