The Mercedes S-Class glided to a gentle stop in front of them. The sleek black exterior reflected the sunlight like polished obsidian, its engine purring with quiet power.
Sophia blinked, stunned at the sight of the luxury car. "Whose car is this?" she asked, her tone uncertain, almost wary.
Kyle smiled gently and replied, "It's for us."
He glanced sideways at her and added warmly, "Didn't I tell you we're going shopping today?"
Sophia's brows furrowed, and she waved her hands dismissively. "Kyle, I know the government must've compensated you for your years on the battlefield, but that doesn't mean you should spend it so carelessly. We should save it, use it only when necessary."
Kyle's heart clenched hearing those words. Back when she lived in the Clark family, Sophia would spend money without even blinking. She was once a woman who never needed to look at price tags, who wore elegance like it was woven into her soul.
And now… this same woman, his mother, was worried about saving.
He took a deep breath and said softly, "You don't have to worry about money, Mom. I have more than enough."
Sophia blinked. "How much do you have?"
Kyle opened his mouth to answer, but he paused. In truth, he didn't even know. After becoming the God of War, his salary, bonuses, compensation, military awards, and under-the-table contributions had made money irrelevant to him. Numbers in a bank account held no weight in his life anymore.
He shook his head slightly and smiled. "Enough."
With that, he opened the rear door of the Mercedes and gestured for her to sit inside.
Sophia hesitated for a second but eventually sat down, adjusting herself awkwardly against the buttery leather seats. Kyle joined her, and Darius silently took the driver's seat.
The car pulled off with smooth elegance, gliding down the road like a phantom.
Inside, Sophia looked around uncomfortably. "This is… too much," she mumbled.
Kyle simply smiled and remained silent, allowing her to adjust at her own pace.
Moments later, Sophia asked, "Kyle, where are we going exactly? And what are we shopping for?"
"You'll know soon enough," Kyle replied with a mischievous grin.
Sophia crossed her arms and said sarcastically, "If you're planning to gift me something, I expect it to be expensive and rare. Otherwise, I won't accept it."
Kyle laughed, "Alright, Mom, but don't go back on your words."
She blinked. "I was joking, Kyle. I didn't mean it like that."
He chuckled, "Too late. You already said it. No takebacks."
Sophia tried to respond, flustered, but the car came to a stop before she could.
"We're here," Kyle said, stepping out first.
Sophia followed… and froze.
They stood before the largest shopping mall in the district — Sky Mall. Its towering glass structure shimmered under the afternoon sun like a crown of luxury and indulgence.
Sophia's voice trembled slightly. "Kyle, why are we here?"
Kyle smiled. "Shopping, of course."
Taking her hand, he led her inside.
The interior was breathtaking — polished marble floors, sparkling chandeliers, rows of high-end boutiques lining either side like jewel boxes. Every corner screamed luxury.
As they walked, Kyle would ask occasionally, "Do you like this? What about that?"
Sophia kept refusing politely, trying to hide her true feelings. But Kyle noticed her lingering gaze on a store window showcasing elegant designer dresses.
Inside the high-end designer boutique, the soft ambient lighting reflected off the glass and gold-trimmed shelves. Elegant mannequins stood like silent guardians of wealth, each dressed in exquisite pieces from the latest European fashion lines. Kyle and Sophia stepped in, with Darius quietly positioning himself at the entrance like a silent shadow.
The receptionist, a woman in her late twenties with perfectly styled hair and red-tinted lips, noticed them. Her eyes scanned Sophia's simple attire—worn jeans and an old blouse—and her smile faltered. Her gaze shifted to Kyle and his sharp military uniform. Although he looked respectable, the military didn't scream "luxury clientele" in her eyes. Begrudgingly, she approached them. "A soldier, probably back from service. I suppose I'll at least pretend to entertain them." She thought.
"Welcome," she said, a stiff smile plastered on her face. "Feel free to browse. Let me know if you need anything."
Kyle gave a polite nod while Sophia offered a soft thank you.
They slowly walked through the racks, the soft fabric of the clothes brushing against their fingertips. Kyle watched his mother curiously as she scanned the clothes. Her eyes were drawn to a long cream-colored coat with a fine silver threading along the lapels—elegant, timeless, and incredibly beautiful.
Sophia gently ran her hand over the coat and whispered, "It's beautiful..."
Kyle smiled. "You like it?"
Sophia immediately stepped back, waving her hand. "No, no. Just looking."
Kyle raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. He didn't notice that as she admired each item, her gaze quickly darted to the price tag, and then she would quietly set it back down.
$14,600.
$8,200.
$19,750.
Each price tag made her heart skip a beat.
Meanwhile, the receptionist was growing visibly irritated. She clicked her tongue and glanced at her phone, bored out of her mind.
Just then, the glass doors opened again, and in walked a well-dressed couple. The man wore a velvet black suit with gold cufflinks. His hair was slicked back, and he walked with the kind of confidence that came from old money. The woman on his arm was equally glamorous, wearing a diamond-studded Chanel coat and Jimmy Choo heels.
The receptionist's entire demeanor shifted. "Welcome, Mr. Morgan, Ms. Claire!" she beamed, rushing past Kyle and Sophia without another word. "Let me show you our newest collection. We just received an exclusive batch from Paris."
Kyle's eyes narrowed slightly.
"She really just..." Sophia mumbled, watching the receptionist abandon them entirely.
Kyle remained silent but annoyed.
Before the silence could turn awkward, a soft voice spoke from behind a display rack. "Excuse me?" said a young woman, her tone gentle and sincere.
Kyle turned to see a new sales associate. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with a kind face, black ponytail, and a simple name tag that read Melanie.
"I noticed you both were browsing," she said, stepping closer with a kind smile. "I think I have something that would really suit you, ma'am. May I?"
Sophia hesitated but then nodded. "Um… okay."
Melanie led them to a different rack and pulled out a soft lavender blouse paired with a high-waisted skirt. "The color would bring out your eyes, and the cut is classic. Simple elegance, but with poise."
Sophia touched the fabric. "It's lovely."
Melanie smiled. "And this designer's pieces are durable. It's not just for show—it's meant to be worn."
Kyle observed Melanie quietly. She wasn't pushing anything. She wasn't fake. She was genuine, and his mother was finally smiling.
Sophia looked at the tag and quickly put the outfit back. "Maybe something else."
Melanie said with truth, "You have really elegant taste. That green would've looked perfect on you, by the way."
Sophia smiled weakly. "It's a bit too expensive."
The assistant laughed softly. "Everything here is expensive. But a style like yours deserves something special. Let's find what suits you best."
She began picking out dresses, scarves, and accessories, gently offering suggestions without pressure. Kyle watched them, a faint smile on his lips.
Sophia looked more comfortable now, chatting a little as she tried to hide her constant price-checking.
Melanie tilted her head while saying, "Would you like me to suggest something a little more budget-friendly—?"
"No, no. I mean, it's not that. I just—" Sophia looked away, embarrassed.
Kyle finally understood.
She wasn't refusing because she didn't like the clothes.
She refused because of the price.
She still thought he was spending from a tight budget, from whatever scraps the government had given him for his years of blood and fire.
Kyle's heart clenched again.
He gave Melanie a polite nod. "Give me a moment."
He quietly slipped away while Sophia was talking to Melanie. He retraced their steps and picked up every single item his mother had shown even the slightest interest in. Lavender blouse. Cream coat. Gold-buckled heels. Designer bag. Every last one.
But just as he was about to return, a loud, sharp voice echoed across the store.
"Watch where you're going, you poor hag!"
Kyle's heart dropped.
He rushed back instantly.
Sophia stood frozen, her head slightly lowered, while the man in the black velvet suit was mid-swing, his hand raised.
But before the slap could land—SMACK!
Darius's hand caught the man's wrist, his expression deathly calm, yet his eyes burned with rage.
"You try that again," Darius growled, "and I'll make sure you never raise your hand again."
Sophia looked stunned, her hand on her chest, eyes wide.
The man yanked his hand back and scoffed. "I was just warning her. She touched my girlfriend's coat."
Ms Clair, next to him, sneered. "Do you know how much this coat is worth?! Its not dirty because of you. Even if you worked your whole like you would not be able to buy this coat."
Sophia lowered her gaze, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Kyle stepped between them, shielding Sophia. "Mom, are you okay?"
The receptionist joined in, smirking as she crossed her arms. "Honestly, I only served you because you're military. But you should know your place. This store isn't for playing dress-up."
Sophia nodded slightly, still embarrassed.
Morgan looked Kyle up and down. "So, you're her son? Military brat, huh? Figures. All you guys know how to do is fight—not earn real money. What are you even doing in this store?"
His voice dripped with mockery.
The receptionist chimed in, bitter and dismissive, "I only entertained you earlier because I felt bad. Not everyone can shop here."
The man snorted. "Military fools. Do you think being a soldier makes you important? You're nothing but dogs of the country! Tch. Military dogs act like they own the place. Must've spent all your allowance playing dress-up."
Kyle's smile disappeared.
He stepped forward—and slapped the rich man clean across the face.
CRACK!
The man flew backward and crashed into the display shelf. The whole boutique went dead silent.
"You—!" Claire screamed, but before she could move, the man on the floor pulled out his phone with trembling hands.
Morgan, for some moments did not know what happened. Someone slapped him on his face. How dare he!. He held his cheek and shouted in anger, "How dare you?!! How dare you lay your hands on me!! Do you know who I am?"
He stood up and snatched the phone from his Clair and said while dialing a call,"Stay right her you bastard, I will make sure to break every single bone in your body."
She dialed quickly.
The call connected. "Hanks, come here right now. Some bastard just laid his hands on me. You'll teach him a lesson, right?!"
A few minutes later—
BOOM!
Leading them was a burly man with his arm in a sling, his face still bruised from a recent beating. He walked with a swagger — until his eyes landed on Kyle.
It was Hanks, the gangster Kyle had beaten to a pulp just earlier that day.
"What the hell is going on in here?!" he barked.
But the moment his eyes landed on Kyle—
His blood drained from his face.
"K-K-Kyle!???"
"Why is he here?" he thought. He still remembered how his subordinate beat all his gang members within seconds, and that terrifying thought still lingered.
"Y-You…" Hanks stammered.
Kyle didn't move. He simply gave Hanks a calm look, as if saying you sure about this?
Morgan pointed towards Kyle and said, "Hanks, this is the guy who slapped me? You said you were really frustrated and angry because someone beat you up. Well, you can take out your frustration on him, hahaha." He looked at Kyle and said, "No, so powerful are you now!!"
Morgan staggered back in shock. "W-What are you doing?!"
"You idiot!" Hank roared, suddenly furious. "You called me here to fight him? Are you out of your damn mind?!"
"I—what?! You're supposed to be on my side!"
Hanks punched him in the gut. "You think I wanna die today?!"
"I—I didn't know!"
"Shut up!"
Hank kept beating them until he was out of breath. Kyle stepped forward walking towards the couple.
Darius stepped forward calmly, standing beside Kyle like a towering statue of death.
The man struggled to sit up, holding his cheek in disbelief. "You—do you have any idea who I am?!"
Kyle stepped on the man's chest, pinning him down effortlessly. "I don't care who you are," he said in a chillingly calm voice. "But I am curious. Do you know who I am?"
Morgan's mouth opened, but no words came out.
The receptionist moved closer, her face pale. "You—you're crazy! Assaulting a customer—!"
"Call security," Claire shouted. "He assaulted my fiancé! Call the police—call someone!"
Just then, a deep, authoritative voice echoed across the boutique. "There's no need."
Everyone turned.
A manager, dressed in a sleek navy suit with a platinum name badge, stepped forward. His sharp eyes swept over the scene—the silent crowd, the trembling receptionist, the disheveled man on the floor, and Kyle sitting beside an overwhelmed Sophia.
"What's going on here?" the manager asked, his tone firm.
Before anyone else could respond, the receptionist pointed toward Kyle, panic tightening her voice. "Sir, that man caused a scene. He was being disrespectful and—"
But before she could finish, Kyle stood up slowly. As he moved, a sleek, jet-black card with a golden trim and a dragon insignia slipped from his coat pocket and landed on the floor with a soft clink.
The manager's gaze followed the sound, and when he saw the card, his eyes widened in disbelief.
He rushed forward, picked it up gently, and turned it over. His face paled.
"This… this is the World Bank Sovereign Black Card…"
The room fell into stunned silence.
The receptionist took a shaky step back, her voice barely a whisper. "W-World Bank… Black Card…?"
Morgan looked up in confusion. "What the hell is that?"
The manager turned sharply toward the receptionist, his face like stone. "You fool. You insulted a Black Card holder. Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Kyle took the card from the manager's hand with a calm, unreadable expression. "Let's go, Mom," he said, gently taking Sophia's hand and helping her up.
Sophia still looked overwhelmed, stunned by the sudden shift in the atmosphere.
The manager bowed deeply. "Mr. Kyle, I deeply apologize for this incident. If I'd known you were visiting, I would've prepared the VIP lounge. All the items you've selected will be sent to your car immediately, sir. Please accept our sincerest apologies and consider them a gift of goodwill."
Kyle's voice was calm but firm. "Charge them to my account. I don't accept charity from people who look down on my mother."
He turned to the receptionist, who looked like she was about to faint.
"You'll never insult another guest again," he said coldly.
She collapsed to her knees in terror.
Kyle led his mother out, with Darius following behind. Melanie, the kind associate, stood near the exit with an anxious look on her face.
Kyle paused. "You. What's your name again?"
"Melanie… sir."
He nodded. "You're sincere. That's rare. Starting today, you work for my mother directly."
Melanie blinked. "I—what?"
Sophia touched his arm. "Kyle—"
"I'm serious," he said softly. "Mom deserves someone who treats her right. You'll be her personal shopper, assistant, whatever she needs. Your salary will triple."
Melanie's mouth fell open. "Y-Yes! Thank you, sir!"
Sophia smiled for the first time in minutes. "That's too much, Kyle…"
Kyle just shook his head. "It's barely enough."
Kyle looked at Hank and said, "Clean up the mess"
Morgan remained on the floor, terrified.
Hank nodded, and he and the gang dragged out Morgan and Clair.
Kyle...what is all this? That card—those people—what just happened?!"
Kyle gently took her hand. "Don't worry about it, Mom. Just enjoy the day."