Dominic felt heat rising in his chest — shame, guilt, embarrassment. His little challenge, meant as a joke at Marcus’s expense, had exposed his arrogance instead.
“A deal is a deal,” Dominic said reluctantly. “The car… it’s yours.”
But Marcus shook his head.
“I can’t take a car like this. I don’t have a home, let alone a garage. I just… wanted to help.”
Those words hit harder than any insult ever could. Marcus wasn’t greedy. He wasn’t angry. He was simply decent — which made Dominic’s behavior look even uglier.
Softening, Dominic asked:
“Where are you staying?”
“When the shelter is full, I sleep near the East Station,” Marcus answered quietly.
Dominic swallowed, his mind shifting gears. For the first time in years, something other than profit mattered to him.
“I need someone who can handle my car collection,” he said. “Honestly? I’ve never seen anyone fix a Lamborghini with a rusty pocket tool. How about a job? Good pay. A contract. Stability.”
Marcus’s eyes widened.
“You… you really mean that?”
“Absolutely. And I’ll get you a place to stay, too.”
Emotion welled in Marcus’s throat.
“If you give me this chance… I promise I won’t fail you.”
Dominic offered his hand.
“Then welcome aboard.”