"Om brother, thank you so much for taking us shopping… and for all these gifts too. You're really amazing… truly."
Riya said as they walked along the road, her face glowing with happiness.
Om smiled, watching both her and Soumya. Seeing them this happy—it meant more to him than anything.
But Soumya, still catching her breath, frowned a little and said,
"But brother… why didn't we bring our car? Now we'll have to waste money on a rickshaw when we could've just used dad's car."
Om glanced at her tired face and smiled softly.
"That's because, my dear sister… if we had taken uncle's car, then both of you would've had to sit in an old car today."
He winked at Riya.
Riya immediately covered her mouth and burst out laughing.
Soumya, however, looked completely confused.
"Old car? What does that even mean, brother?"
Om chuckled.
"You silly girl… it means today, we're going to buy a new car."
For a second, there was silence—
And then both Om and Riya high-fived each other, laughing.
Soumya's eyes widened in shock, then excitement took over her face.
The three of them, laughing and teasing each other, soon arrived in front of a massive car showroom.
Soumya stopped in her tracks, staring at it.
"Brother… this is a Bugatti showroom. Don't tell me… you're actually planning to buy a Bugatti?"
Her voice was filled with disbelief and excitement.
Inside the showroom, the three of them began looking around.
The place itself screamed luxury—everything was polished, shining, perfect. And the cars? Each one looked like a masterpiece.
Of course, it was a Bugatti showroom—so every car there was nothing less than extraordinary.
Om and his sisters moved from one car to another, admiring them with genuine interest.
Then, Om casually opened the door of one of the cars and leaned in to take a closer look.
"Hey! Who told you to open that car door?"
A sharp, hateful voice cut through the air.
Om turned, slightly surprised.
A man in formal clothes was walking toward them, his face full of irritation.
"Do you even know how expensive that car is?" he snapped. "If there's even a single scratch because of you, you'll spend your entire life paying for it—and still won't be able to afford it. Move away from there!"
He walked up to Om, looking him up and down with clear judgment in his eyes.
Om simply sighed, then smiled politely.
"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know… I was just checking it out."
The man worked there—clearly a sales agent.
But instead of calming down, Om's polite tone only made him more arrogant.
In his mind, someone dressed simply like Om could never afford a car like this. He must've come just to pass time.
And now, seeing how politely Om spoke, he became even more convinced.
Rich people don't talk like this, he thought.
So there was no need to show respect.
Om, still calm, asked,
"By the way, sir… can I take this car for a test drive?"
The agent let out a mocking laugh.
"Oh, you want a test drive? Then you'll have to pay a deposit first. What if you damage the car during the drive? Who's going to take responsibility? And then you'll just say you don't want to buy it."
He smirked.
"Let me make one thing clear—this is a limited edition model. Not everyone gets a test drive. Understood?"
Om just smiled, his tone still respectful.
"I see. Alright then, how much do I need to deposit?"
The agent crossed his arms.
"Well, the price of this car is 30 Million So you'll have to deposit half— 15 Million But since you seem very interested…" he said with a fake smile, "I'll give you a discount. Just pay 10 Million for now."
Before Om could respond, Soumya snapped.
"What? That's half the price! Who asks for that much just for a test drive? We're not taking it home—you're basically robbing people!"
The agent glared at her.
"Hey, girl—this is our minimum policy. Pay it if you can, otherwise get out. Big talk for someone asking for a test drive."
Now even Riya lost her patience.
"Let's go, brother. We're not buying anything from a place where customers aren't respected. We'll get a car from somewhere else."
She grabbed Om's hand, and Soumya followed, pulling him toward the exit.
As they walked away, the agent sneered loudly,
"Oh, you'll buy from somewhere else? Please—people who can't even afford a bicycle come here to look at cars. Do you think we're fools? I know exactly who comes to buy and who comes to waste time. No idea where people like you even come from…"
Just then, another employee walked up to him and said,
"Hey, Manager Satish… those people who just left—they've gone into the Jaguar showroom next door. Do you still think they weren't here to buy a car?"
Satish smirked, his arrogance only growing.
"You don't understand. I've been in this field for eight years. I can tell just by looking who's rich and who's not. There's no way they can afford a car like this."
He straightened his coat.
"Let's go. I'll have them thrown out of that showroom too."
With that, he walked off—full of pride—toward the very showroom Om had just entered.