James pushed through the glass doors of Prestige Properties Dublin into an office that screamed money. Marble floors reflected the afternoon light streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows, and three realtors sat at minimalist desks that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent.

Two of them glanced up at James in his faded jeans, scuffed boots, and hoodie with a small bloodstain on the sleeve from Floor 4, then immediately looked back at their computers. The third, a blonde woman in her late twenties wearing a sharp suit and the kind of smile that said she lived on commission, stood to greet him.

"Good afternoon," she said, her tone bright and professional even as her eyes did a quick assessment that clearly found him wanting. "I’m Claire Murphy. How can I help you today?"

"I’m looking to buy a house," James said.

Claire’s smile didn’t waver as she gestured to the chair across from her desk. "Of course. Please, have a seat and we can discuss what you’re looking for."

James sat while Claire pulled out her tablet and opened what looked like a property database. "What kind of budget are we working with? And what area of Dublin are you interested in?"

"Something good," James said. "Safe area. Furnished."

Claire nodded, her fingers already scrolling through listings. "I have some excellent properties in the one hundred eighty thousand to two hundred fifty thousand euro range. We offer very competitive installment plans with as little as ten percent down—"

"Something more expensive," James interrupted.

Claire’s smile froze for a microsecond before she recovered. "Of course. What price range did you have in mind?"

"A million euros or more."

Claire’s internal scream was loud enough that she almost heard it herself, but her professional mask stayed firmly in place as she swiped to a different section of her catalogue. "Certainly. Let me show you our luxury properties."

She pulled up four listings, moving through them quickly while watching James’s face for the inevitable moment when reality set in. A detached Georgian in Ballsbridge for one point three million. A modern penthouse in Sandymount for one point six million. A renovated Victorian in Howth for one point eight million. And finally, the crown jewel of their current listings—a six-bedroom detached estate in Killiney for two point one million euros with pool, ocean views, and full furnishing.

James studied each one without much reaction before pointing to the Killiney estate. "I’ll take that one."

Claire’s smile stayed professional, but her mind was already calculating. He’ll need to talk to someone, get a loan approved, never follow through. "When would you like to schedule a viewing?"

"Now," James said.

Claire blinked, then checked her schedule on the tablet. "I can arrange that for this afternoon. Say, three o’clock?"

"That works."

Thirty minutes later, Claire’s car pulled up to the gated entrance of 47 Seaview Terrace in Killiney. The property sat behind wrought-iron gates with the kind of security system that cost more than most people’s cars, and the house itself was a modern architectural masterpiece of glass and stone with the Irish Sea stretching out behind it.

Claire walked James through the property, giving her practiced sales pitch about the chef’s kitchen, the home theater, the six bedrooms and four bathrooms, the infinity pool that seemed to blend into the ocean beyond. James barely responded, just nodded occasionally, checked the security system’s panel, tested the water pressure in the master bathroom.

They finished the tour in the main living room where floor-to-ceiling windows framed an unobstructed view of the ocean. Claire turned to James with her professional smile firmly in place. "So, what do you think?"

"I’ll take it," James said.

Claire’s smile stayed fixed as she prepared for the inevitable excuse. "Wonderful. Now, for financing we typically require fifteen percent down, and we have relationships with several excellent banks who can—"

"I’ll pay in full today," James said.

Claire’s brain short-circuited. "I’m sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Full payment today."

Her hands shook slightly as she pulled out her tablet. "Mr. Ganner, I need to explain that the full purchase price is two point one million euros. If you’re serious about this, we need to return to the office immediately to handle the contracts and bank transfer."

"Not a problem," James said.

Back at Prestige Properties, Claire moved with the kind of focused efficiency that came from realizing a massive commission might actually be real. The other two realtors watched with confused expressions as she printed contracts and spread them across her desk.

"I need you to sign here, here, and initial here," she said, pointing to each section. "The payment process requires two point one million euros transferred to our escrow account. Once the bank confirms the transfer, we can process the deed immediately."

"Same-day transfer possible?" James asked.

"If it’s a priority transfer and the bank confirms immediately, you could be in the house tonight." Claire’s professional mask was back, but there was an edge of genuine excitement underneath now.

James pulled out his phone and opened his banking app. The screen showed €4,500,000 in available funds, and he navigated to the transfer section without hesitation. He typed in €2,100,000, selected Prestige Properties’ escrow account from Claire’s information sheet, and confirmed the transaction.

He turned the phone to show Claire the confirmation screen.

Claire stared at the numbers with wide eyes, barely breathing. "That’s... that’s a lot of money."

"Is that a problem?" James asked.

"No. No, not at all." Claire picked up her desk phone with shaking hands and dialed the bank. "Yes, this is Claire Murphy from Prestige Properties. I need to confirm a priority transfer to our escrow account. Reference number..." She read off the transaction ID while staring at James like she was seeing him for the first time. "Yes, I’ll hold."

Five minutes of hold music later, Claire’s expression shifted from disbelief to genuine shock. "Confirmed. Thank you." She hung up and looked at James. "The transfer is complete, Mr. Ganner. You now own 47 Seaview Terrace."

Claire printed the deed, two sets of keys, security codes, and a welcome packet with hands that still hadn’t quite stopped shaking. She slid everything across the desk to James with a smile that was equal parts professional and genuinely impressed.

"Congratulations on your new home," she said.

James took the keys, the weight of them solid and real in his hand. "Thanks."

Claire stood and extended her hand for a shake. "It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Ganner. Here’s my card if you need anything else in the future." She handed him her business card, then pulled out her phone with a smile that was decidedly less professional than before. "Actually, maybe we could grab coffee sometime? To celebrate the new house."

She took his card back and wrote her personal number on the back before sliding it across the desk. "That’s my direct line. Anytime."

James looked at the number, then at Claire, and pocketed the card. "I’ll keep that in mind."

They shook hands, and James walked out of Prestige Properties with the keys to a two point one million euro house in his pocket.

James stood on the sidewalk outside the office, looking down at the keys in his hand. He owned a house now. Not a flat with water stains and broken heating, but an actual house with six bedrooms and an ocean view and a pool. A house his mother could live in without worrying about rent or eviction notices or working three jobs just to keep the lights on. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

She was going to lose her mind.

He flagged down a cab and gave the driver his Northgate address. During the ride, he stared out the window and thought about how he couldn’t just tell her. She’d think he was joking or that he’d done something illegal. He needed to show her. Have her pack a bag, take her to the house, hand her the keys, and watch her face when she realized it was real.

The cab pulled up to his building twenty minutes later. James paid and headed upstairs, finding his mother in the kitchen making tea like she did every afternoon when she had a break between shifts.

"James," she said, looking up with a smile that faded when she saw his expression. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing’s wrong," James said. "I need you to pack a bag."

"What?"

"Everything you need. Pack tonight and tomorrow morning."

His mother set down her tea with the kind of deliberate care that meant she was trying to stay patient. "James, I can’t just leave. I have work, I have bills—"

"You’re not leaving," James said. "Just trust me. We’re going somewhere tomorrow, and I need you to pack."

"Where are we going?"

"It’s a surprise."

Her eyes narrowed with the kind of suspicion only mothers could manage. "What did you do?"

James smiled slightly. "Something good. Just pack, and I’ll explain everything tomorrow."

She stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for answers he wasn’t giving. Finally, she sighed. "If this is some kind of scheme—"

"It’s not," James promised. "I swear."

She held his gaze for another few seconds before nodding slowly. "Fine. But this better be good."

"It is," James said, and headed to his room before she could ask more questions.

That evening, James sat at his desk with the keys to 47 Seaview Terrace sitting in front of him. Tomorrow he’d take his mother to see the house and watch her realize she’d never have to work three jobs again.

He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling of his old flat with its water stains and peeling paint. Tomorrow he’d wake up in a house with six bedrooms and an ocean view. The contrast felt unreal, like something out of someone else’s life rather than his own.

He closed his eyes.

Sleep came quickly.