Chapter 9: See your stupidity

Manchester Airport bustled with travelers, but Miller felt a distinct chill despite the warm coffee in his hand. Yesterday's summons from the California police hung heavy in the air. The Lehman family, a group he once considered family, had accused him of embezzlement.

 

A smirk played on Miller's lips. These entitled trust fund babies wouldn't know hard work if it bit them. Their days were filled with nothing but frivolous pursuits. He could easily hire a lawyer, but the prospect of seeing their faces twisted in frustration was too tempting to resist.

 

With twenty minutes before boarding, boredom gnawed at him. Back then, smartphones were mere shadows, offering no solace in the form of games or videos. Just then, his phone buzzed.

 

Fiona's sultry voice filled his ear. "Miller, I heard Alex and Gary went crying to the police?"

 

He chuckled. "Just a couple of clowns. It's an annoyance, but I have to fly back to California."

 

"When will you be back?" she asked. "I'll pick you up."

 

Miller considered. "Roughly twelve hours."

 

"Perfect," she said. "See you then."

 

The conversation ended, and Miller boarded the plane, California and its drama beckoning.

 

A California Welcome

 

Twelve hours later, Miller emerged from the bustling California airport. His gaze scanned the crowd until it landed on Fiona, a vision in a long windbreaker and skinny jeans that accentuated her statuesque figure. Her raven hair cascaded down her back, contrasting with her porcelain skin.

 

As soon as she spotted him, Fiona waved enthusiastically. "Miller, here!"

 

They conversed in Mandarin, their preferred language. Fiona's Chinese, inherited from her mother, was flawless.

 

"Monopoly!" she exclaimed, grabbing his arm as they walked towards the parking lot. He couldn't help but chuckle.

 

"Slow down, speed demon," he teased. "You're not a kid anymore."

 

Fiona puffed out her chest playfully. "But you're still my brother!"

 

"Technically not anymore," Miller reminded her gently. "No legal ties to the Lehmans."

 

"So what?" she countered. "I'm happy this way."

 

He conceded with a smile as they reached the parking lot. A bright yellow Beetle, a stark contrast to Miller's usual tastes, awaited them.

 

"No upgrade?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

 

Fiona winked. "Not as rich as you, remember?"

 

"Let me change that for you then," he offered.

 

She shook her head defiantly. "I'll get my own."

 

Their conversation flowed easily, a testament to their long-standing bond.

 

A Familiar Haunt

 

The evening sun cast long shadows as Fiona pulled up to a familiar Chinese restaurant. "Treat's on you, Mr. Big Shot?" she teased.

 

This was their old college haunt, Stanford memories swirling in the warm aroma of spices.

 

A smile tugged at Miller's lips. "We can go somewhere fancier. No need to hold back."

 

Fiona rolled her eyes playfully and led the way, her lunchbox in tow.

 

The owner greeted them like old friends, unsurprised by Fiona's captivating presence. Her beauty, a unique blend of Eastern and Western features, turned heads effortlessly. Imagine a more delicate Sophie Marceau with sun-kissed skin.

 

Fiona wasted no time ordering their signature dishes, clearly the boss of the table. Miller simply chuckled, used to her independent ways.

 

The food arrived, and they dug in with gusto, the silence punctuated only by the clatter of chopsticks.

 

To the Station We Go

 

Belly full, Fiona dropped Miller off at his place. "I'll be with you at the police station tomorrow," she declared with surprising determination.

 

"Fiona," he began, concern creasing his brow. "This is a family issue. You're still a Lehman."

 

She snorted. "Want to know why I interned at JPMorgan instead of Lehman Brothers?"

 

Miller's surprise was evident.

 

With a final wave, Fiona and her trusty Beetle disappeared into the night.

 

A Standoff at the Station

 

The next morning, Fiona arrived at Miller's place sharp on time, her determination etched on her face. At the station, the officer ushered them into a bland conference room.

 

Fiona scanned the surroundings, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "First time here," she remarked.

 

Miller shrugged. "Same here, technically."

 

They shared a quick smile, the tension momentarily replaced by camaraderie.

 

Suddenly, the door creaked open, revealing a burly officer with a scowl. "You two done playing around?"

 

"We're here to cooperate," Miller