Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!-Chapter 112: Shopping
Once they got outside, the street greeted them with the hum of passing cars, and the loud noise of people going about their day.
Darren stood straight and rigid for a moment, clearly annoyed, his fingers clasped tight around the burger he'd refused to leave behind.
His blue eyes burned with a quiet intensity, jaw clenched tight as he replayed the chaos he'd just dismantled. Ugh, something about the entire thing just bit at him.
Perhaps his ego had grown too big in a short time, and it was easier to feel disrespected or disgusted.
Beside him, Penelope hovered, her petite form still trembling from the shock of it all, her blonde ponytail straight now as she stared at him anxiously.
The "Shooters" uniform clung to her like a second skin, absurdly out of place now, and her wide blue eyes darted between Darren and the road, disbelief clouding her features.
She had no idea why she had just done that. How could she? She'd just walked out on her only lifeline— with a stranger, no less.
What other way could she pay her tuition now?
"Why'd you do that, Mister?" she blurted out, her voice having both confusion and a tiny bit of accusation.
Darren didn't answer, not that he was ignoring her, but her question seemed to have just blown past him without actually entering his ears.
He just raised the quarter-eaten burger in his grasp and took a deliberate bite, chewing as if it were a lifeline to his composure.
The juicy patty dripped slightly, while he munched on like a hyena.
Penelope's brows furrowed, her shock giving way to impatience. "Mister! Why'd you do that back there? How am I supposed to pay for tuition now?" she demanded, crossing her arms, though the gesture looked more vulnerable than defiant in her skimpy outfit.
Darren swallowed the bite, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before meeting her gaze. "You chose to leave with me, didn't you?" he said, his voice low and steady, cutting through her rising panic like a blade through fog.
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She blinked, thrown off. "Yeah, but… you're just a customer. I don't really know you at all." Her voice sounded like she was speaking more to herself, questioning why she did it.
She was caught between frustration and a dawning realization. Darren tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Yet you came with me anyway."
Penelope huffed, pouting her pink lips. "I don't even know why I did that," she muttered, still to herself.
"Mhm." Darren nodded, studying her as he finished off the burger in one last bite. "Sometimes you just follow the gut," he said, brushing crumbs from his hands. "It's rarely wrong."
Penelope watched him chew, and she smiled — out of nowhere — like she was amused by the way his mouth moved. "Seems you were really hungry," she said, then perked up, her eyes lighting with an idea. "If you want, you could come by my place. My dad's home— I could cook you something."
Darren didn't really know how to refuse food. He looked down at her, one brow arching as he studied her. "You can cook?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.
She grinned, her whole face brightening, a spark of her natural cheer bubbling through. "Of course I can, Mister! I cooked most of the dishes at Dad's restaurant. I've actually got this dream; I want to own a big restaurant someday, a whole cuisine empire, to be honest." Her hands waved animatedly, her enthusiasm infectious.
"Hmm. You're quite inspired," Darren said, still studying her. 'I do wish she would stop calling me Mister though.'
His eyes moved and he caught a man sauntering by, his lecherous gaze raking over Penelope's exposed figure.
Darren's frown deepened, and his protective edge took over once more. "You can't wear that out here," he said gruffly, already shrugging off his charcoal blazer.
Before she could protest, he draped it over her shoulders, the fabric swallowing her small frame, the sleeves dangling past her hands.
"Oh," she breathed, blushing as she tugged it closer, her cheeks glowing pink as she hid her tiny face under the colors of the dark material.
Darren straightened his tie — red against his crisp white shirt — and added, "I'd like to see your father, actually."
"Mhm?" Penelope twisted her lips. "You would?"
"It's about the restaurant. I'm thinking we could be business partners."
Her eyes widened, sparkling with sudden hope. "Oh! Then let's go— I'll take you to him. Our home is not very far from here." She shrugged slightly, then blushed again as he nodded.
"And maybe we can talk more about what you'll cook for me," he teased, his gaze strict but teasing.
Penelope smiled, ducking her head as they started down the road.
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Darren, now in just his white long-sleeve shirt, the tie hanging loose and stylish, walked with a confident stride, while Penelope shuffled beside him, nearly lost in his oversized blazer, her hands hidden in the sleeves like a kid playing dress-up.
As they passed crowds, people glanced at them, others even turned their heads and followed their movement. Probably because they thought they were a beautiful young couple.
It was normal for humans to want two good looking people to be together. Like it was a rule written somewhere.
The contrast was striking— Darren's polished authority against Penelope's youthful, disheveled charm.
"So, college," Darren prompted as they walked, the city noise fading into a background hum. "How's it been?"
Penelope sighed, kicking a pebble. "Tough but fun. You know what I'm studying? Hospitality— so lame."
"You don't like it?"
"It works I guess. I could be a nurse, right? Maybe if I do well I could work for one of those big hospitals like Morrison's."
Darren frowned. "Holloway Medicals isn't a bad option."
Penelope nodded, oblivious. "Yeah. Them too. Tuition's the killer, though. I was juggling Shooters and classes, barely sleeping. Dad tried to help, but…" She trailed off, then perked up.
"What about you, Mister? You're all fancy— what do you do?"
Darren chuckled, then straightened up to answer. "I'm an investor."
Penelope raised her brows. "An investor? Ooh. Fun."
"Fun?"
"Well, you do things like scout possible business and assets that could make you money, right?" She placed a finger on her jaw. "Isn't that fun?"
"It keeps me busy." Darren replied. "But yes, it can't be very fun sometimes. Especially when no one believes in an asset and you end up proving them wrong."
"Mhm," Penelope downturned her lips. "You seem really young to be an investor. You must be very smart then."
Darren looked forward, a comical expression on his face. 'I sure hope so.'
As they passed a boutique, its glass window glowing with soft light, Penelope's steps slowed.
Her eyes locked onto a dress; a flowing, emerald-green number with delicate lace trim, elegant yet simple.
Darren caught her stare and paused. "You like it?" he asked, his tone casual but observant.
She flinched, flustered. "No, no. I mean... it's pretty, but I can't afford it," she stammered, waving her hands.
Darren studied her, then glanced at the dress. 'Come to think of it. I haven't flexed my wealth at all, have I? Perhaps this is the best time to do it. A humble girl like Penelope probably hasn't been spoiled a day in her life.'
He arrived at a decision. "Let's get it, then."
"What?" Penelope squeaked, eyes wide.
"You like it," he said simply. "So let me get it for you."
She shook her head, incredulous. "Trust me, Mister. The prices here are crazy."
Darren raised a brow, unfazed. "Do you not want it?"
She stared at him, caught, then mumbled, "I do."
"Then let's get it," he said, nodding toward the door. "And don't stop there. You can pick anything you like."
Her eyes glistened, a mix of disbelief and delight, and she hesitated only a second before darting inside.
Inside the boutique, Penelope flitted between racks, her bubbly energy unleashed.
At first, she gravitated toward cheaper items— a plain scarf, a modest blouse— glancing at Darren with shy guilt. She'd never had someone spend on her and she didn't want to seem like she was taking advantage of him.
Darren leaned against a display, arms crossed, and shook his head. "You don't have to do that. Come on now. Take anything you like," he said firmly. "No holding back."
She bit her lip, then said okay.
After a while, she slowly eased into it. She grabbed dresses, bags, even a pair of sleek boots.
She'd duck into the dressing room, emerging each time with a new look, twirling for Darren's approval.
First, a navy sundress that hugged her curves, her blonde hair glowing against it. Darren nodded, imagining her helping him with his tie before work while she wore that sundress.
"Suits you," he simply said.
Next, a crimson shift dress, bold and striking. Then a cream sweater dress. Then a tight pencil gown that pressed her curves so much and exposed a good amount of cleavage on its v-neck.
Darren cleared his throat and gave a simple thumbs up.
Penelope smiled. Her beauty shone through each cloth she picked, radiant and unpolished, her laughter filling the space.
By the end, the counter was piled high — dresses, a leather tote, those boots, and more. The cashier rang it up: $5,875.
Penelope's jaw dropped, her hands clutching the blazer's sleeves as Darren made the payment without blinking.
"You're insane, Mister," she whispered, awed, as they left with bags dangling from his arms, her carrying just one.
They reached her apartment building—a modest, weathered brick structure with chipped paint and a flickering entry light.
They had been talking and laughing throughout the walk. Penelope then turned to him, eyes shining. "Thank you. Really. Dad's gonna be grateful too."
Darren shifted the bags, smirking. "Hopefully grateful enough to hear my business plan."
Hearing that, her smile reduced a little, becoming slightly wry.
She knocked on the door. "Dad, I'm home!"
The door creaked open, revealing Mr. Castle—a stocky man with graying hair and a tired but kind face.
"Penny! You're home early—" He froze, spotting Darren. "Who's this?"
Giving the elderly man a look of respect, Darren squared his shoulders.
"Hello, Mr. Castle."
