As Zahir watched an actor embrace one of the fans, who was visibly trembling with joy and excitement, his eyes widened in shock.
He glanced at his own ticket—number 73—then turned sharply to his secretary.
“Isn’t Cesare drawing next? What’s your number?”
“...I have number 74.”
“If 74 comes up, you have to give it to me. No exceptions.”
The secretary, who had no particular interest in Cesare beyond his professional duties, nonchalantly agreed to Zahir’s emphatic demand.
“But isn’t Your Highness here incognito?”
“Is that important now? What if Cesare ends up hugging someone else?! Can’t you just buy out whoever gets called if it’s not me? I’ll pay $100,000 if needed.”
“$100,000?”
The secretary asked in a tone of disbelief.
$100,000 was an outrageous price to pay for just a hug from Cesare—enough to buy someone a house that would last a lifetime in this country.
‘Why was he willing to pay such a ridiculous amount?’
Yet, Zahir didn’t hesitate for a second.