Chapter 3
1065 Words
Nathan stretched awake at the city park where he had spent the freezing night. Passersby moved quickly, as if they were late for Judgment Day.
His fingers tightened over his prized possession, the flash drive, and for a moment, he smiled.
He stood up, dusted the cold from his coat, and walked into an internet café, where he slid the flash drive into a computer that blinked for a moment, then glowed a brilliant green.
“Welcome, Engineer Logan Pierce!” the screen read.
Nathan blinked and tapped a button. What happened next stole his breath. The flash automatically began populating the screen with estates in Italy, high-rise apartments in Dubai, vintage car collections, private security firms, oil investments, and offshore bank accounts—a storm of numbers, documents, and digital signatures swept in rapidly. Every company, with every dollar running into billions, is rewriting itself with a single new name.
“Ownership transferred to Nathaniel Wood.”
His phone pinged, and he pulled it out, blinking through the cracked screen—a string of notifications flooded in.
£800,000,000.00 deposited.
Asset Transfer: Mayfair Estate, London.
Asset Transfer: Orion Pharmaceuticals.
Asset Transfer: Crimson Bay Resort.
Bank Notification: Incoming Credit – £4,210,435,000.00.
He blinked again. Then another message.
Asset Link: 172 real estate holdings now listed under your account.
Nathan almost screamed.
He sat back, logged into his i********: app, and hurriedly created a fake account under the name. Jacob Dome.
He uploaded several aesthetic pictures and assets —the type that could make other people depressed. He scrolled through his messages, found his ex-wife Jessica, and sent her a message. Message sent, but she was offline.
Hours later, he was at Lord Graymon's estate. This time, not as a beggar or broken man, but as a billionaire in disguise.
His physical appearance had not changed; he wore the same old coat and shoes like a lowly janitor who lost a bet to poverty.
The estate was steaming with what appeared to be a pre-engagement celebration. Glittering wine glasses, music, polished floors, and wealth on display in every corner.
When Nathan walked by, Jessica turned.
“Oh...look what poverty brought,” she said, loud enough for the guests to hear. “What are you even doing in this house?”
“I came to see you,” he replied calmly.
“Your audacity is on steroids," she laughed. “Once Silas and I are married, you’ll be permanently banned from stepping an inch closer to me. We can’t have you spreading your poverty around.”
Nathan met her eyes. “All the best with the wedding,” he said quietly, his tone so steady it unnerved her.
From the stairs appeared Lord Graymon, followed by a man in a chiselled suit, and a young lady with beauty carved from jealousy. Her eyes met his, and in that brief moment, a glow of familiarity was born.
It was Clara Osborne. A ghost from Nathan’s past. His obsessed and abusive ex from college years.
“Don’t stand there like a lost dog. Make yourself useful. We’ve got real guests today.”
Graymon barely glanced at Nathan as he barked,
“Yes, sir,” Nathan replied quietly.
He kept walking, heart pounding. Not now, he thought. Not her. Not yet.
“Oi, Nathan!” barked Isaac, one of the senior staffers, waving a champagne bottle toward him. “Quit dragging your feet! You’re not here for sightseeing.”
Nathan nodded and moved to grab the bottle. But just then, Clara Osborne's voice rang out across the room.
“No need. I’ll take it.”
Everyone turned.
Clara cat-walked across the hall, confidence oozing like pride, eyes locked onto Nathan’s. “Hey Nathan, I haven't seen you in ages, since college.”
Nathan composed. “What exactly are you doing here?”
“Business,” She smiled darkly. “We are Lord Graymon's new associates.”
Nathan frowned and said nothing. He gave Clara a polite nod and turned away before Lord Graymon’s voice thundered from behind. “Nathan! Stop fraternising with my guest and make yourself useful, even if you're not.”
Clara gave Nathan a wink as Nathan walked away.
Clara, the serpent in human form, was back. Jessica was flaunting a new life she didn’t earn. Lord Graymon was drunk on power; he thought he still had it.
Nathan only smiled.
Minutes later, Lord Graymon descended the grand staircase with his guests in tow. Graymon was laughing, gesturing broadly.
“…and once the merger is complete, my name will be sealed into the political fabric of this country!”
And then, a stray mockery hit him.
“Lord Graymon,” one of the investors asked, “and who’s this fellow over there, your manservant?”
Graymon looked over his shoulder at Nathan, his face twisting. “That? That’s no one. Just my disappointment with a son-in-law. Soon to be ex.”
There were chuckles. One even muttered, “Must be humiliating.”
Graymon turned toward Nathan fully. “Go fetch more champagne. Something you're good at.”
Nathan nodded. “Right away, sir.”
That night, the estate buzzed with a pre-wedding wine-tasting ceremony. Guests flowed in with laughter and expensive heels, while Nathan remained in the background, unnoticed but not unaware. Clara floated through the room in a crimson dress, eyes sharp, lips full of dangerous secrets.
Jessica had spent the evening parading Silas around, showering him with attention. It was performative; Nathan could see it, yet it no longer moved him.
Just then, a loud knock came at the estate’s front gates.
Two black SUVs rolled in.
Bank officials stepped out with umbrellas and documents.
“Lord Graymon,” one of them called, “we’re here to finalise the foreclosure.”
Chaos rippled through the estate.
Lord Graymon stormed out in his robe. “What is the meaning of this?!”
“The mortgage under the estate’s holding name has defaulted. The new beneficiary has claimed all assets.”
“And who the hell is that?!”
The official handed him a paper.
Graymon’s eyes widened as he read: “Jacob Dome.”
“Who the hell is Jacob Dome?!”
At the corner, Nathan almost raised his hands.
His phone buzzed and he unlocked it to a reply from Jessica.
“Who is this?... Do I know you?”
Nathan smiled and pocketed his phone.
- Writer
