*Who's My Eternal*
*Next Day — Harkwell Mansion, Study, 10 AM*
"Elian," Mr. Harkwell said. "Sit."
Elian sat. Same chair as the first day.
Mr. Harkwell didn't have tea today.
He looked… tired. But lighter.
"Yesterday," he said. "The money. My room. That was a set up."
Elian didn't flinch. "I figured, sir."
"I'm sorry," Mr. Harkwell said. And meant it. "I needed to know."
"It's okay," Elian said. Shrugged. "Even if it wasn't a test, I wouldn't have taken what isn't mine. Lola raised me better than that."
Mr. Harkwell smiled. Real.
"I know that now," he said. "Which is why we can talk."
He leaned forward.
"Do you know the name Arthur Harkwell?"
Elian nods. "Yes, sir. Everyone does. Trillionaire. Owns ships, buildings, half of tech. Cars. Houses. Everything. But… no one knows his face. He's never done interviews. Public knows the name, not the man."
Mr. Harkwell nodded.
"I'm Arthur Harkwell."
Elian's mouth opened.
Closed.
"You—"
"My real name is Steve Harvey," the old man said. "Arthur Harkwell is the name I built. The name the world fears. The name on contracts."
Elian was speechless.
"My son who lives in Philippines," Steve said. "Told me to retire. To rest. To be _grandpa_ and stop working. But I can't. I won't. So I work secretly. My family thinks I'm just an old man in a mansion."
He laughed. Dry.
"So Arthur Harkwell exists. But Steve Harvey is tired."
Elian just nodded. Brain still catching up.
Then Steve looked at him. Straight.
"The world will know _your_ face as Arthur Harkwell."
Elian choked. "What? Sir— why?"
"That's the something great," Steve said. Simple. "I have everything planned already."
He pulled a folder from his desk. Thick. Heavy.
Slid it across.
Elian opened it.
Deeds. Stocks. Companies. Cars. Houses in Tokyo, New York, Vancouver. Shipping lines. Tech patents.
His hands shook.
"Sir," Elian said. Voice breaking. "You don't have to— I saved your life because you were dying. Not because I wanted this. I wasn't expecting—"
"I know," Steve cut in. Gentle now. "And that's why you're the only one I'd give it to."
He stood. Walked around the desk.
"Good people are hard to find, Elian. . . You could've taken my cash yesterday. You didn't."
He put a hand on Elian's shoulder.
"Don't worry about me. I'm still rich. My family is rich. I'll go back to being Steve Harvey. Live quiet. Be normal grandpa. Play chess. Wait for my time to leave this world."
Elian's eyes burned.
"All of this," Steve said. Tapped the folder. "Arthur Harkwell. It's yours now."
The door opened.
A man in a suit. Lawyer. Another man with a notary stamp. Assistant.
They didn't speak.
Just set papers down.
Steve signed. First page. Second. Tenth.
Then slid the pen to Elian.
"Elian Eldridge," Steve said. "Sign."
Elian's hand shook.
He looked up. "Sir, I—"
"Sign," Steve said. Softer. "Please."
Elian signed.
Every page.
Arthur Harkwell became Elian Eldridge.
When the last paper was stamped, the room was quiet.
Then Elian broke.
He dropped to his knees.
Hands on the floor. Head down.
"Thank you," he said. Choked. "Thank you, sir. I swear I'll— I'll make you proud. I won't—"
Steve laughed. Loud. For real.
Reached down. Grabbed Elian's arms. Pulled him up.
"Stop that," he said. "You're not a servant."
He held Elian's face. Like Lola did. Like Mrs. Eva did to Cherry.
"I see you as my son now," Steve said.
Elian couldn't speak.
Just nodded. Tears on his cheeks.
From _servant boy_ to _son_.
From dirt to everything.
Hours later
And all because he stopped on a street.
The house was silent.
Elian was lying in bed. Eyes open. Looking at the dark ceiling.
He couldn't stop thinking.
Everything felt too big. Too fast.
Months ago he was in Manila. No money. No plan. Just _servant boy_ to most people.
If he stayed there, none of this would've happened.
No Canada. No Mr. Harkwell. No chance to change his life.
He almost missed it.
All because of timing. Because of small choices.
And then his mind went to Cherry.
Always her.
She found the diamond with him. She could have kept it. She could have sold it and made her own future.
But she didn't.
She put it in his hands. Said, _This is yours_.
She gave up her chance.
She let him go first.
She chose him over herself.
If Cherry didn't do that, he would still be in Manila. Still stuck. Still _servant boy_.
She sacrificed her own dream so he could chase his.
That's not something you forget.
Elian turned in bed. Picked up his phone.
He wanted to call her. Right now.
Tell her _thank you_. Tell her _I know what you did for me_. Tell her _I wouldn't be here without you_.
But he checked the time.
It was past midnight in Vancouver.
That meant it was already afternoon in Manila. Cherry would be at the bay, or helping Lola, or already asleep if she was tired.
She needed her rest.
So he locked the phone. Set it back down.
Laid there in the quiet.
And thought, _Tomorrow. I'll tell her tomorrow._
Because Cherry deserved to hear it.
Not in a late-night call. Not in a rush.
Properly.
Elian closed his eyes.
For the first time, he really understood:
He wasn't alone in this new life.
Cherry carried him here.
And he was going to make sure she knew he was grateful. Every day.