The night became a blur of excess. They moved from the lounge to a private showroom where Leo bought out the entire spring collection of a designer streetwear brand just so his boys wouldn't have to pack for their flight to Vegas. When the bill came, he didn't even glance at the commas.
Leo leaned back, a glass of top-shelf bourbon in hand. "The way I see it, if I’m winning, we’re all winning. We spent years grinding in the dirt. Now? We own the garden."
"Write the check, don't check the balance," he muttered to himself, feeling the rush of absolute autonomy.
He checked his phone. A notification showed another deposit. He smiled.
Last week, Leo had signed the deal that changed everything. Today, he wasn't just wealthy; he was "never-look-at-the-price-tag" rich.