Damian leaned back slightly, adjusting his cufflinks like this was just another Tuesday. Then, with a voice as smooth as a black Amex limit, he said, "Total comes to fifteen billion."
The air shifted.
Atalanta, who had been casually observing, nearly choked on oxygen.
"Excuse me, what?" she blurted out, whipping her head toward Parker like he'd just agreed to buy a private island for a pet goldfish.
Even Tessa—who had seen wealth beyond imagination—gave Damian a sideways glance, because fifteen billion wasn't a number, it was a statement. She knew the price that the cars and the motorcycles would range through and that didn't reach even a billion. So what exactly were the other three orders. How insane were they to make fifteen billion?
But Parker?
Parker didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Didn't even bother to acknowledge the number like a mere ten billion was worth reacting to. Instead, he casually pulled out his card.
This wasn't just any card.
