“If you can touch him, I’ll marry you” — Millionaire humiliates the janitor without knowing his ability…..

If you can handle it, I’ll marry you.

Those words came from the mouth of a woman who believed that money gave her the right to embarrass anyone.

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It all started with an elegant meeting where politicians, businessmen and heirs to great fortunes filled the room.

Among them, a young millionaire who enjoys attracting attention with his absurd bets and boastful laughter.

In front of the large grand piano, he pointed to the man who was carefully cleaning a corner.

Samuel was the janitor, a quiet man, in his blue uniform, who was never looking for trouble, but who was seen by all to be out of sight, until he decided to come over.

“You,” he said, pointing at her with a mocking gesture.

“Let’s see if he can make us smile by playing that, though of course, you’ve got a different talent, right? It was accompanied by laughter and applause from his friends.

Samuel hesitated for a moment.

He didn’t sit in front of a piano for many years and not because of a lack of love for music, but because life had taken him down paths where art didn’t pay the bills.

He approached tightly but didn’t look up.

He put his hands on the keys, feeling the cold ivory under his fingers.

He tried to hold on but his hands were stiff.

The whisper of mockery circled him like an uncomfortable echo.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a test, it’s heard between laughter.

Though if you fail, don’t worry, you’ll still clean the floor afterwards.

The embarrassment was so obvious that some of those present looked away, uncomfortable, but not intruding.

The first few notes are clumsy, as if his fingers are searching for a lost memory.

The millionaire leaned in and tapped the piano with one finger while laughing.

Wow, your work makes us laugh.

I’m not even angry.

The group laughed as they celebrated the moment as if it were a ready-made show.

Samuel took a deep breath, trying not to let his judgment get in the way.

He knew that any word he had would be used against him, but what no one knew was that Samuel, before becoming a janitor, played on important stages, with singers and orchestras.

A few years ago, a personal tragedy forced him to leave it all behind.

That night, something awoke inside of him.

Her fingers began to move more confidently as she remembered the old exercises, scales she had been doing for hours in her youth.

The group, however, didn’t notice this.

They keep talking about how funny it is to see a simple employee trying to fit into a world they claim doesn’t belong to them.

Come on, I’m sure your forte is the mop,” joked one of the men, clinking his glass into the millionaire’s glass.

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At that moment, one of those present, an old man with a smart face and a flawless coat, was watching him more carefully than the others.

There was something about Samuel’s posture, the way he touched the keys, that was familiar.

He didn’t say a word, but stopped smiling like everyone else.

Meanwhile, Samuel felt his heart beat and the tension in his hands began to loosen.

The millionaire got up from his chair, walked over to him and with a rousing smile he let go of the challenge again.

I’ll say it again, if you can handle it, I’ll marry you.

Even if you see what you’re doing, I don’t think that moment will come.

The laughter came back louder, more painful.

Samuel closed his eyes, ignoring every word, every gesture of mockery, focusing only on the keys under his fingers.

When he was about to try a more complex piece, the group moved even closer.

Around it as if they expected it to fail again.

The pressure is suffocating.

The whisper of their laughter was mingled with distant memories of applause from another time.

And Samuel felt an impulse he hadn’t felt in years, the moment the millionaire, in a cold voice, said something that would completely change the atmosphere.

“Come on, surprise us if you can.

Samuel slowly opened his eyes, letting the heavy silence between taunts break into a steady first chord.

His fingers, now more confident, began to move in an enclosed rhythm, like someone measuring every step before a decisive race.

But the laughter didn’t stop.

Someone even mimicked his movements by exaggerating the gestures, prompting louder laughter.

The millionaire, with his arms crossed, bowed with a mocking smile.

“Come on, that’s it,” he insisted.

If you want to surprise me, you’d better do it before the alcohol runs out.

The environment was against him and he knew it.

A false note will cause eternal shame.

The tension was heightened when one of the young people present, with obvious contempt, approached the piano and, without permission, pressed a few keys at random, which stopped the starting melody.

“Look, it sounds better that way,” he said with a laugh.

Samuel felt a knot in his stomach, but he didn’t take his hands off the instrument.

He knew that if he stood up or argued, he would lose not only the opportunity to silence them, but also the last connection to the piano he loved so dearly.

The millionaire laughed out loud, celebrating the young man’s act as if it were all a show being staged to entertain him.

The old man watching from behind took a step forward, but a man next to him put a hand on his shoulder as if to suggest that he not interfere.

Samuel, surrounded by a circle of laughter and murmurs, took a deep breath and played again, but this time faster, as if he wanted to force his hands to remember by heart.

However, the psychological pressure is relentless.

Every look, every whisper pushes him towards disappointment.

At that moment he felt that perhaps they were right, that perhaps his talent was nothing more than a broken memory.

Just as he seemed to be about to give up, a deep voice was heard from behind.

Give them something they will never forget.

Samuel looked up and saw the old man staring at him with a seriousness that was beyond discussion.

That look woke him up, a pride that had been dormant for a long time.

The millionaire frowned at the interruption, but said nothing.

Her interest now mingled with a slight intrigue.

Samuel closed his eyes again and let his fingers rest gently on the keys.

The change was almost imperceptible at first.

The notes began to flow more freely, joining the chords with a precision he hadn’t shown before.

The whisper of mockery subsided slightly, as if the music was cutting off the words before they even came out.

The older man smiled, recognizing the technique and sensitivity behind each note.

Although the millionaire was still smiling, he stopped laughing.

Her eyes followed Samuel’s every move, as if something inside of her was starting to spin.

With each step of the way, Samuel’s confidence was restored.

The music grew in intensity, transforming into a great interpretation of a piece that combined strength and sweetness.

Some of those present, without realizing it, stopped laughing and began to watch in silence.

Samuel’s hands moved with a beauty that only a few years of experience could provide, and the room was gradually filled with a different energy.

The tension is broken, but not by shouting or arguing, but by the quiet power of his talent.

When he got to the most complex part of the piece, Samuel performed a verse so quickly and cleanly that it elicited an involuntary exclamation from someone in the audience.

The silence was complete.

No one dared to disturb him now.

The millionaire stopped smiling.

Her lips parted, as if she couldn’t process what she was seeing.

The old man, with a satisfied look, nodded slowly, as if he saw a suspicion confirmed.

The final note reverberated through the hall like a hammer blow, shutting down not only the piece, but also any doubts about his ability.

Samuel removed his hands from the piano and let them rest on his legs, looking straight ahead without looking for applause.

The first to respond was the old man, who began to clap with unexpected force.

Gradually, others followed suit, though it was clear that some did so knowing they had witnessed their own mistake.

The millionaire remained motionless for a few seconds before looking off into the distance and forcing a smile.

“I look like I’ve made a mistake,” he said calmly, almost to himself.

The old man came to Samuel, shook hands with him, and, looking at all who were present, said, “This man is more important than any of you; for what he has cannot be bought.

“You have to learn something now.

The silence that followed was more uncomfortable than any mockery.

Samuel woke up with his dignity intact and the assurance that while the wound of that night would remain, so would the memory of how he had regained his voice through the piano.