THE PROXY HEIR

Chapter 4 The Noon Ultimatum

The cold metal of the briefcase handle bit deep into James’s palm, his breathing grew heavy and uneven, each inhale dragging dust,and old rust filled his nose, he coughed hard keeping his eyes locked on Arthur and the sharp edge of the guard's knife gleamed under the flickering fluorescent bulb of the 1920s vault, pressed tightly against his neck,the old man breath was shallow in panic.

"Don't do it, sir," Arthur choked out. His voice strained against the steel. "The Golden Group... it falls if he gets that ledger. Don't throw away everything your family built."

"Shut up, old man,"

the guard hissed, pressing the blade closer. A speck of dark red blood appeared on Arthur’s white collar.

James’s heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, His throat felt tight. He wasn't a billionaire heir, he wasn't some corporate savior born to inherit a global empire. Just twenty-five hours ago, he was a guy on a cheap motorcycle, trying to deliver lukewarm takeout to rich people, who didn't even look him in the eye. He didn't know anything about stocks, crypto keys, or corporate buyouts. But looking at Arthur’s terrified face, James knew one thing for certain. He couldn't let an innocent man die just to protect a pile of digital money.

"Let him go,"

James said,he forced his voice to drop to a steady, casual drone. He held the silver briefcase out in front of him. "You want the seventy million, Uncle? Take it. It’s useless to you anyway without the biometric key."

Charles let out a dry, mocking laugh that echoed off the damp concrete walls. He took a slow step forward, his expensive leather shoes crunching on the gravel floor. "Nice try, boy. But I know my brother’s security systems inside out. The ledger only requires the alphanumeric phrase. And you just entered it right in front of me to open that door. Hand it over."

Charles stretched his hand out, his eyes gleaming with naked greed.

Beside james, Vivian shifted her weight almost invisibly,her wet jacket moved slightly. Her hand crept slowly into her jacket catching james’s eye for a fraction of a second. A tiny, nearly unnoticeable nod passed between them.

James didn't hesitate. He didn't hand the briefcase to Charles. Instead, he spun on his heel and threw the heavy metal case hard into the rows of glowing computer data server racks behind the uncle.

Smash.

The metal corner of the case shattered a cluster of pressurized cooling tubes, sparks erupted in a blinding flash of blue light. Liquid nitrogen sprayed into the air with a deafening loud sound, creating an instant, thick cloud of white fog that blanketed the entire vault.

"Get him!"

Charles screamed, his voice cracking with rage and panic as the fog blinded him.

Vivian drew her hidden weapon from her jacket. She fired two rapid shots into the concrete ceiling. The thunderous echoes inside the enclosed room made the guards instinctively drop their weapons and duck for cover. James moved forward through the fog, using the chaos to hide his movement. He tackled the guard holding Arthur, sending them both crashing heavily into the rusted steel door.

Arthur broke free from the man's grip, coughing violently from the chemical smoke.

"The emergency exit!"

Arthur gasped, waving his arm toward a dark, rusted maintenance ladder tucked behind the broken server racks.

Vivian scooped up the briefcase from the floor, her face smudged with dark soot.

"We have twenty minutes until the board meeting ends!"

she yelled over the roaring alarms of the vault. "If we aren't in that boardroom by noon, Charles wins automatically!"

They scrambled up the vertical metal ladder one by one. Below them, the sounds of Charles’s guards shouting and cursing echoed up the narrow shaft. James climbed with everything he had, his lungs burning.

They burst through a heavy iron grating at the top, stumbling right onto the crowded sidewalk outside the central train station.

Passersby stared in absolute shock at the three drenched, bruised people covered in soot emerging from the ground. James checked his cheap delivery watch. The digital face was cracked, but the numbers were clear. It was 11:43 AM.

"We need a car," james said.

looking at the bumper-to-bumper gridlock filling the city streets and the rain pouring down in heavy sheets.

"We’ll never make it across town in time through this."

Vivian wiped rain from her forehead and smirked. She pointed down the block toward a sleek expensive motorcycle parked outside a cafe, it's engine idling while the driver ran inside the cafe for shelter.

"You said you used to do deliveries, right? Prove it."

James didn't waste a second. He sprinted to the bike, threw his leg over the seat, and grabbed the handlebars. Vivian climbed on right behind him, tightly clutching the briefcase against her chest, while Arthur managed to hail a taxi to follow behind. James twisted the throttle, and the heavy bike roared to life. He slammed it into gear and tore into the midday traffic, weaving violently between yellow cabs and delivery vans, ignoring the angry honks of drivers.

At exactly 11:58 AM, the motorcycle skidded to a chaotic halt outside the gleaming glass towers of The Golden Group headquarters. James and Vivian sprinted through the revolving doors of the lobby, blowing past the shouting security guards who tried to block their path.

They took the private executive elevator straight to the 50th floor. The digital clock on the elevator wall ticked to 11:59 AM. The tension in the small elevator car was thick.

The elevator doors chimed open. James threw the full weight of his shoulder against the heavy mahogany boardroom doors, bursting into the room.

The entire board of directors stopped talking instantly,dozens of pairs of eyes turned to look at him in absolute shock. Sitting at the head of the long glass table, holding a sleek gold pen directly over the final liquidation documents, was Uncle Charles. He looked up, his face turning completely pale, the pen slipping from his fingers. He looked like he had just seen a ghost rise from the grave.

"Sorry I'm late, Uncle," James said, stepping into the room with mud still dripping from his boots. He snatched the briefcase from Vivian and tossed the seventy million dollar ledger right in the center of the glass table.

The board members began to whisper frantically among themselves, recognizing the missing ledger immediately. Charles stared at the silver case, his hands shaking slightly. Then slowly, the shock on his face faded, A cold twisted smile began to form on the uncle's lips leaning back comfortably in his leather chair.

"You really are a fool Edward," Charles whispered, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you won just because you showed up. But you forgot to look behind you."

James turned around slowly, his heart melt. Standing by the elevator doors, wearing a perfectly tailored navy suit without a single speck of dust or rain on it, was a man with his exact same face.

The real Edward had finally come back from the woods James said to himself.

Looking at james with disgust, holding a matching briefcase in his hand.