?Chapter 370:


    He had the money, and he was more than willing to spend it.


    But he had underestimated just how high the demand would be.


    Last night, he had stayed up, watching the ticketing site like a hawk. The moment the clock struck midnight, he clicked the link. But so had hundreds of others.


    It had been a frenzy. A battle of speed. In the end, he had barely managed to snag a few VIP box seats. If he had hesitated even a second longer, he might not have gotten any at all.


    His phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts.


    Barrie was the first to respond. “Hadley’s first stage performance?”


    Denver quickly replied, “Yeah. Come support.”


    “I’m in, too.”


    “Thanks, Marshall.”


    “Count me in. But what about Eric? Why so quiet?”


    Across the city, Eric sat at his desk, coffee in hand, his phone screen glowing. His lips curled into a smirk.


    He typed out a reply to Barrie’s question. “Alright. Nothing better to do, anyway.”


    “All set, then! Appreciate it, guys!”


    With that, the n was locked in. Eric casually set his phone down, his expression asposed as ever—impossible to read.


    Beside him, Phillips hesitated for a beat before speaking. “Mr. Flynn… most of the employees I reached out to weren’t able to secure tickets. Only a few managed to get through.”


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    So, Denver wasn’t the only one worried about ticket sales.


    Eric had anticipated the possibility and had quietly arranged for Flynn Group employees to purchase tickets—his way of ensuring the numbers stayed high.


    But, unsurprisingly, these corporate staff weren’t exactly seasoned ticket buyers. By the time they figured out the process, the seats had already been snatched up.


    Oddly enough, Eric didn’t seem the least bit disappointed. If anything, there was a trace of amusement in his eyes.


    He leaned back, casting Phillips a brief, knowing nce before speaking. “No problem. Tell them I appreciate the effort. Anyone who pitched in—count it as overtime. Make sure they’re paid for it.”


    Phillips gave a small nod. “Understood, Mr. Flynn.”


    As he turned to leave, a thought lingered in his mind. Did Eric actually want those tickets… or was he just ying a different game altogether?


    Friday.


    The theater was alive with anticipation.


    Eric arrived discreetly, blending into the refined crowd with his usualposed demeanor. However, before heading to his seat, he made a quick detour to the restroom.


    On his way back, he stopped short. Ahead, standing in the corridor leading from backstage to the main hall, was Denver—holding arge bouquet of roses.


    Eric’s gaze flicked to the flowers, then back to Denver. It wasn’t hard to guess who they were for.


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