18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 279

The past couple of years had not been kind to them, especially to Angela. Stella knew better than to pry, so she left it at that.

Jasper was already waiting for her at the curb. As they all piled into the car – the three of them and Cooper – Stella filled Jasper in on the situation. "Cody's doing alright, considering. But Angela's in a bad way because of her depression. Lukas might seem like he's all jokes and laughter, but I think he's swallowing a lot of pain. He looks like he's on the verge of a breakdown himself."

Without Cody's comforting presence, Lukas might all be following in Angela's footsteps. End of the world or not, the brutality of reality, the torment of one's own mind – how many could maintain their mental health through all that?

Back in their gated community, a new notice was posted at the security booth. The Homeowners Association was holding its first ever meeting to discuss maintenance fees and plans for improving the green spaces. The meeting would be held promptly at eight in the evening.

No one was going to overlook Building 50 this time around.

After dinner, Stella and Jasper attended the meeting. Most of the other homeowners were already there, congratulating and complimenting each other. The atmosphere was so pleasant that one might mistake it for a cocktail party.

The couple wasn't one for crowds, so they found a quiet spot in a corner.

From the corner of her eye, Stella spotted a familiar figure. Tracy, dressed in a classic dress, was arm-in-arm with a middle-aged man in a suit and tie, black leather shoes, and a slight beer belly. He was making small talk with everyone.

This must be Asher, Julia's father.

"Jasper," Austin joined them at the meeting, settling down next to the couple.

The second-hand dealer had always loved gossip, using it as a way to quickly bring each other closer. Particularly, upon learning that Stella had fed shit to Julia, he was even more excited.

He glanced towards the crowd, lowered his voice, and started spilling the beans. "See that guy in the suit with glasses? That's the head of the Riley household. He might look decent, but he's a wolf in sheep's clothing. He has a mistress and even brought his illegitimate child back home for his wife to raise."

Stella frowned. "How do you know all this?"

"Heh, in our line of work, there's nothing we don't know."

Austin continued his gossip. "Poor Tracy. She used to be a spoiled rich girl, but her family fell on hard times. She married into the Riley family to save her family’s company. Unfortunately, she had complications during childbirth and can't have any more kids. She has to turn a blind eye to her husband's affairs." NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

Most wealthy people were like that. They put on a show of being a loving couple, but behind the scenes, they had no rules.

Stella smiled but didn't say anything.

Most of the homeowners had arrived by now. Bran made a late entrance, all eyes on him as he walked in. He was wearing a floral shirt, capris, slide sandals, and a coat.

Bran, despite his eccentric appearance, was the object of adoration for all the women in the room. Their faces were flushed with infatuation, and they seemed ready to throw themselves at him.

Bran looked around the room and then casually walked over to the corner where Stella and Jasper were sitting. He plopped down in the seat in front of them and turned around to greet Stella with a grin. "Stella."

If only he would sober up a bit. Stella really didn't want her doorstep to be defiled again.

They say you shouldn't hit a man who's smiling at you, but Stella didn't return his smile. "Sorry, but I don’t think we know each other that well."

Bran laughed. "It doesn't matter. I remember you pretty well."

Back when she worked under him, she'd come close to being humiliated. She hadn't expected to turn the tables in the apocalypse.

Stella couldn't be bothered with Bran. Her attention was drawn to the man sitting next to him. He was in his early thirties, with a cold and aloof look on his face. He was wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a custom-made Armani suit. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, and his immaculate leather shoes reflected the cold light.

The domineering CEO aura was overwhelming, and Stella felt a bit dizzy. No, it couldn't be. It had been three years since the apocalypse, and that rich CEO was still going strong? Clearly, the end of the world was only for ordinary people.

The homeowners' meeting was chaired by the vice-chair of the association. She was dressed in a dress and a fox fur shawl, looking both luxurious and elegant. Her words were also pleasing to the ear. Stella remembered her. She had led the ostracization incident last time.

The meeting was simple, focusing on the calculation of maintenance fees.

Where there were people, there would be disputes. Even the upper class had hierarchies. In the past, the members of the Homeowners Association made decisions together, and the maintenance

fees were charged per household, with each household paying 20 pounds of rice and flour per month.

The one-size-fits-all approach from above naturally met with objections from below. It wasn't that they cared about the resources, but they were unhappy that Building 50 was gaining power. So, they proposed that the maintenance fees should be calculated based on the size of the mansion.

Even the Porras family was keeping a low profile, and the vice-chair didn't dare make a decision on her own. After a discussion, they decided to hold a meeting.

Since Stella was ignoring him, Bran started idly chatting with the man next to him. "Cousin, could you help me get a few off-road vehicles?"

The man was generous. "I have a Land Rover. It's yours."

Bran was picky. "At least get me a Hummer."

The man adjusted his glasses, and his sharp eyes glanced over. "If I recall correctly, you had a Raider." It was the only one in the country. He had pulled some strings to get all the paperwork done. Don't remind him. It was a heart-wrenching story.

Bran's heart was aching, and he was about to have an aneurysm. "Some son of a bitch stole my two huge shipping containers."

His cherished off-roaders and a whole container of top-quality parts, he hadn't even had a chance to touch them. The thief not only took the valuable stuff but even stole his flip-flops. Damn it!

"Bentley, o you think it's a ghost? The club's front door was locked, and only the window in the second-floor bathroom was broken. How the hell did two such large containers disappear?"

Bentley didn't even blink. "I suspect it's the work of your employees. Breaking the bathroom window was just a diversion."

"No way!" Bran was very confident. "The club's front door requires my fingerprint, face, and iris recognition. All three have to match to open it. Otherwise, it's impenetrable. No one could possibly break in."

"These three things require the presence of electronic devices to be identifiable." Bentley expressed his concerns for his intelligence. "If you're so certain, would you mind telling me how you managed to unlock the door after the flood?"

Feeling insulted, Bran felt silent.

Unwilling to admit defeat, he suddenly changed the subject. "I've heard that your office has also been broken into. Could it be the work of an inside job?"

"It was broken into."

Bentley adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, "But it wasn't an insider. It was survivors scavenging for resources."

Bran, took pleasure in Bentley's misfortune. "What did you lose? Give me something to cheer about."