Ultimate Cash System-Chapter 174: Dream. (1/2)

After sealing the deal with Mr. Ghassan, the Mercedes cruised down the tree-lined driveway of the fortress-like mansion. Lana sat in the backseat beside Lukas, still digesting the grandeur of everything they had seen. She looked quiet but thoughtful, stealing glances at Lukas as if trying to match this mansion-buyer version of him with the classroom genius she knew.

Henry, in his usual polo and cap, drove with one arm resting on the window, humming an old-school tune. The Princeton coach looked more like a suburban dad than a man who had just toured a multi-million-dollar estate.

"Alright, Lana, this is your stop," Henry said as they neared her neighborhood. He smiled at her through the rearview mirror.

"Thanks, Coach," she said, opening the door. She turned to Lukas, her pink hair catching the light. "See you in class tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Text me if you need anything," Lukas replied.

She gave him a small nod, then closed the door, still visibly dazed from the whole experience.

Henry pulled away and glanced at Lukas with a grin. "You got the girl all starstruck, Luke."

"She’s a good friend, that’s all," Lukas replied, leaning back.

They rolled through the quiet streets until they reached the tall residential tower in Philadelphia. The glass and steel building stood like a monolith, its entrance glowing faintly as the sun set. Henry parked the Mercedes, and they entered through the private access. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Once inside the luxurious suite on the top floor, Lukas slipped off his jacket and collapsed onto the couch. The place smelled of expensive leather and faint citrus from the automatic diffusers. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the city skyline, glowing orange and pink.

Henry grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge and tossed it to Lukas.

"Are you sure about this mansion thing, Luke? I mean, twenty million?"

"I want something permanent," Lukas said. "A place that’s mine. A symbol."

Henry nodded slowly. "Alright. Then let’s do it right."

He stepped aside, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number. After a couple of rings, a clear voice answered.

"George Hugo speaking."

"George! It’s Henry. We’re greenlit on the mansion. Lukas is ready to move."

There was a pause, then George’s voice sharpened. "Well then, I’ll have the lawyers drafted by tonight. Full transfer documents, clear title check, the works."

"Thanks. We’ll be ready on our end too."

Henry hung up and turned to Lukas. "Hugo’s the best. Hugo Agency. Real killer with contracts. He’s got this."

Lukas nodded and picked up his phone, texting Annie and Bella casually that he had finalized a big deal. Then he leaned back again, letting the fatigue slowly wash over him. Another step taken.

Outside, the city twinkled. But for Lukas, it was just the beginning of something bigger.

After arriving at his Philadelphia suite, Lukas spent a few minutes looking around. Though the space was modern and luxurious, it couldn’t quite match the scale of the mansion he had just sealed the deal for. Still, this suite had been his haven since moving to the city—sleek black granite counters, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline, and a private elevator that opened directly into the living room. Jay had already prepared his protein shake, and Roy was placing Lukas’s duffel bags in the bedroom.

"You need anything else, boss?" Jay asked.

"Nah, you guys can head back. I’ll be good," Lukas replied as he peeled off his jacket.

"Alright, sir. Call us anytime," Roy added, tipping his head respectfully before both men exited.

Lukas sat down for a moment and drank the shake, but something gnawed at him. Despite the big real estate win, he felt...off. He stood, looked at his reflection in the mirror near the entryway, and frowned slightly.

His physique was strong, lean, and athletic—the kind of body most would envy. But for Lukas, it wasn’t enough. He wanted more definition, more power, and more presence.

Ten minutes later, he was already in the private gym on the lower floor. Clad in a black sleeveless compression shirt and joggers, Lukas started with heavy bench presses, his muscles pushing against the fabric as sweat quickly built up. He trained with discipline, alternating between supersets of chest, back, and arms, his expression focused and determined. The music in the background was low, barely audible beneath the clanking of weights.

Midway through a brutal set of weighted pull-ups, his phone buzzed on the bench.

He grabbed it, towel draped around his neck, and checked the screen: Nike PR Team.

He answered immediately, his voice steady. "Hey."

"Lukas! Hey there, it’s Tasha from Nike," came the upbeat voice on the other end. "Quick one—there’s a mini shoot happening tomorrow morning. Nothing too fancy, just some promo material for the spring line. Think you’re up for it?"

Lukas glanced at the wall mirror, watching himself breathe through the exhaustion. "Yeah, I’m in. Send me the time and address."

"You got it! We’ll text the details in a bit. It’ll be a quick shoot—and the new outfits are killer. Looking forward to seeing you."

"Same," Lukas said, ending the call.

He put the phone down, exhaled, and went back to his workout. The next morning might be cameras and smiles, but tonight was for sweat and steel.

Somewhere deep inside, he felt the gears of his future shifting again. Bigger deals, sharper focus. The world was watching—and Lukas wasn’t slowing down.

After coming back from the gym, Lukas felt a little sore but mentally refreshed. His body had gotten stronger over the months, but he still wasn’t satisfied. He had a long way to go, especially now that his life was filled with more responsibilities and eyes watching him. While sitting on the balcony of the Philadelphia suite, a cool breeze brushing through his hair, he checked his phone.

There it was—a text from Nike.

Nike USA: "Hey, Lukas! Tomorrow’s the quick campaign shoot we discussed earlier. Starts at 10 AM sharp. We’ll keep it light and efficient. Let us know if you need pick-up or anything else."

Lukas smirked. The hustle never stopped. He took a screenshot and immediately forwarded it to both Jay and Roy with a short message:

Lukas sent a text to Jay: "Tomorrow at 9 AM pickup. Nike shoes. Don’t be late."

Jay replied with a thumbs-up emoji within seconds, and Roy just sent back, "Yes sir."

After that, Lukas took a shower and changed into something comfortable—loose joggers and a clean tee. The kitchen smelled of roasted meat and spices. Dinner was a simple but hearty plate of lemon chicken with seasoned rice and some asparagus on the side. He didn’t eat like a king every night, but there were always healthy meals at his suite thanks to the service deal Henry had arranged for him.

With a full stomach and a tired body, Lukas lay down on his plush king-sized bed. The Philadelphia skyline shimmered softly through the glass panels of his suite. He grabbed his phone one last time, scrolled through some messages, liked a few posts, and then dropped it onto the nightstand. His eyes slowly closed.

That night, he dreamt.

It was vivid, unlike the usual haze of disconnected visions. He was standing in a grassy field, the kind you’d see near a countryside on a clear summer day. Birds chirped in the distance. The wind was gentle. And then—he saw someone walking toward him. It was an older version of himself. A version from a life long past. No riches, no fame, just a regular old man in worn jeans and a hoodie, hands stuffed in his pockets.