11:34 PM.
The soft glow of three monitors illuminated Liam's room, casting flickering shadows on the wall. His eyes, red-rimmed from hours of intense focus, were locked on the screen before him.
Balance: $1,203,876.42
He leaned back in his chair, chest rising and falling with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His lips curled into a slow, triumphant smirk as he exhaled sharply and reached out to kill the system.
Click.
"Beat that, you fucker," he muttered under his breath, clearly referring to Dickson, who had walked away with a $200k profit and a smug look earlier in the day. Liam just crossed the million-dollar line.
He stretched in his chair, arms raised, body aching from sitting too long. "Damn, I need sleep..." he murmured to himself.
But just as his limbs relaxed, a sharp sound broke the silence—a muffled thud, followed by what sounded like a crash coming from the direction of Lana's house.
Liam stilled. His brows furrowed.
