The stars that night had nothing on Zenith Plaza.
The entire Level 81 of the Skyward Pavilion gleamed like a palace above the clouds. Velvet carpets, diamond chandeliers, a reflective glass dome above their heads offering a full view of the city skyline — and in the center of it all, the Kairos twins were about to make their entrance.
But none of this was what caught the guests' breath.
It was the precision.
Everything was flawless — from the rose-gold place settings to the private security guards in tailored black suits. Each detail whispered money. Not the loud, brash kind. The cold, calculated kind that moved nations.
Outside, thirty minutes earlier…
Darren stood in front of a full-length mirror inside a private suite above the venue. Clad in a custom-tailored Tom Ford midnight blue tuxedo, black shirt, no tie — sharp, clean, and dangerous.
The valet had just confirmed:
"The three cars are waiting, sir. Keys and deliveries are ready post-reveal."
His phone buzzed. Another system alert.
[Event Prep Spending: £1.2M]
[Luxury Cars: £810,000]
[Jewelry & Designer Bags: £460,000]
[Birthday Surge Multiplier Activated]
[Total Rebate: £2,730,000]
[Current Bank Balance: £69,570,000]
He smirked.
"This system… is printing legacies."
Aria's Reveal
When she walked in… silence fell.
She wore a crystal-studded deep violet gown from a Milanese designer that hadn't even released the line yet. A glittering diamond necklace nestled at her collarbone — subtle, but anyone with money could tell the stones were real. Her hair was done in elegant waves, eyes lined in gold shimmer.
Then came the voice of the announcer:
"Ladies and gentlemen, presenting…
Mr. Darren Kairos and Miss Aria Kairos — the Twin Flames of Zenith."
They descended the staircase together like royalty.
Even their harshest critics couldn't deny it:
They didn't just arrive.
They owned the night.
The Gifts Unwrapped
After a string of soft speeches, food, and high-level networking, Darren took Aria aside.
"Come with me," he said.
She raised an eyebrow. "What is it now?"
In the private garage beneath the plaza, three luxury cars sat side by side under black silk covers.
He pulled the first one off.
1. Aria's Gift:
2025 Mercedes-Maybach S680 4MATIC – Pearl white, diamond-stitch leather interior, custom "Aria" emblem stitched into the seats.
She gasped. "Is this—?"
Darren tossed her the keys.
"Happy birthday, sis."
She nearly cried.
2. Darren's Gift to Himself:
2025 Ferrari SF90 Stradale Spider – Blood red, carbon fiber trims, custom license plate: "REBAT3D".
3. For Their Mother (To Be Delivered in One Week)
2025 Lamborghini Urus Mansory Venatus Evo S – Black with deep sapphire accents. One of only five custom variants in the country.
And in the glove compartment?
A diamond-encrusted keychain with the letters:
"C.H." — Celeste Hayes.
Aria turned to him, still holding her keys. "You didn't have to do all this."
Darren looked up toward the sky.
"They looked down on us for too long.
It's time we gave them something to look up to."
Meanwhile… upstairs.
A well-dressed older man stared across the room, squinting at Celeste in the crowd. His assistant leaned closer.
"Sir, that's her. That's Celeste Hayes."
The man's wine glass froze mid-air.
"But… she was ruined. Exiled. Finished."
The assistant looked down at his tablet, which displayed Darren's face and financial records traced from silent LLCs and shell corporations.
"Apparently not anymore."