Alaric's face twitched in irritation, his brows knitting together.
Thalina took one look at his shabby delivery uniform and jabbed her manicured finger toward the door. "Out! Now! We don't allow delivery trash in here."
"I'm not delivering food," Alaric countered.
Tossing her salon-perfect hair with a contemptuous sniff, Thalina crossed her arms, her voice laced with enough venom to kill a horse. "Save it! I've heard that crap before. Every bottom-feeder claims they're 'not just a delivery guy.' How original."
"I'm serious. I need to see Gideon."
Alaric's jaw clenched as he shouldered forward.
"What the actual f**k? Are you deaf or just stupid?" Thalina's face turned beet red. She'd never encountered such brazen delivery scum—actually trying to force his way in after being told no.
A department manager stormed out, his face like thunder. "What's going on here?"
"Mr. Rafe!" Thalina thrust her finger in Alaric's face, her voice dripping with pure loathing. "This gutter trash is trying to barge in! I'll have security drag him out!"
Mr. Rafe's eyebrows slammed together as he looked Alaric up and down. Putting on fake politeness, he growled, "Company policy prohibits delivery personnel. You'll have to leave."
As a Fortune 500 executive, he figured he was being generous just talking to delivery scum.
When Alaric stood his ground, Thalina saw her moment to power trip. She stepped forward, nearly poking his eye out with her acrylic nail. "What, are you deaf or just stupid? Get the f**k out!"
Alaric saw red. Was this psycho b***h always this unhinged, or was it that time of the month?
If only the dumb b***h knew—this entire empire answered to him.
Since when do mutts bite the hand that feeds them?
She was begging for a beatdown.
"I said I'm not delivering food," Alaric growled. "I'm here for Gideon."
"Gideon?" Mr. Rafe blinked, then barked a cruel laugh. "You mean our Chairman?"
"Gideon's chairman now?" Alaric did a double take.
That sly old bastard had been just a secretary before. When had he weaseled into the chairman's seat?
No f*****g wonder the old snake grew balls to make demands.
Screw it. He'd grab the cash and ghost—no way was he inheriting this circus.
Mr. Rafe snorted, rolling his eyes. "You don't even know Chairman Hale's position? Do you have an appointment?"
Thalina's laugh was pure malice. "As if this gutter trash could get an appointment."
"Enough," Mr. Rafe brushed her off like a gnat. "Just call security."
"Right away, sir!" Thalina gushed with fake sweetness, eyelashes fluttering as she clicked her heels toward the front desk to make the call.
Manager Rafe was about to walk away when—
Suddenly—
A jarring voice cut through the lobby.
"Gideon, get down here right now. Your front desk is blocking me. If I don't see you in three minutes, I'm walking."
Both heads snapped toward the sound just as Alaric hung up, slouching against the reception desk while lazily scanning the corporate decor.
Thalina's smirk twisted into something vicious. "What a loser! Now he's faking it? No wonder he's stuck delivering takeout!" she sneered.
Instead of calling security, she whipped out her phone, snapped a photo of Alaric, and fired off a social media post: *Ugh. Ran into this loser delivery guy. About to have security drag him out…*
Manager Rafe’s frown deepened. He shot Thalina a look—she instantly got the memo, flashed an OK sign, and dialed security. "Yeah, front desk. We’ve got some trash to remove."
Click. Phone down. Thalina slid back into her seat, reapplying lip gloss like Alaric was already erased from existence.
Meanwhile, on the executive floor, Gideon Hale—Chairman of Nexora Group—was striding toward the elevators, his secretary struggling to keep up. The second the doors opened, his gaze locked onto the figure lounging in the lobby.
Then his blood ran cold.
Three security guards were manhandling the young master toward the exit.
The sole heir to the family’s fortune.
"STOP!" Gideon's voice thundered through the marble atrium.
The guards froze mid-shove. At the sound of their chairman's voice, they spun—only to see the man himself charging at them, face thunderous.
Why was the chairman down here?
Snap!
Heels clicked together. Salutes snapped up. "Chairman Hale, sir!" barked the trio in unison.
Gideon brushed past them without a glance, heading straight for Alaric with a smile that could light up a room.
Thalina rushed over, flustered. The sight of Alaric still standing there, cool as a cucumber, made her blood boil. "Chairman!" she gasped, then immediately rounded on Alaric. "Why is this garbage still here? Throw him out already!"
Were these guards blind? Letting this riffraff loiter where the chairman could see?
Gideon's glare could've flash-frozen lava. "What the hell are you doing?" he snapped. "This is the young master—the future chairman of this company. Who taught you to treat him this way?"
Young—master?
Him?! Some random delivery guy?
Thalina’s mind short-circuited. "Chairman," she blurted, "you can't be serious. This i***t is the young master?"
"Absolutely not mistaken," Gideon said coldly, his disdain for her growing.
"What kind of attitude is this? Is that how you speak to the Chairman?"
Thalina, the receptionist, instantly realized her mistake and bowed deeply. "Chairman, I apologize, I—"
Meanwhile, Mr. Rafe came scurrying over with an ingratiating smile. "Chairman, what brings you here?"
As he spoke, he noticed Alaric and—still oblivious to the tension—his face flushed with irritation. "You still here? We don't allow delivery guys in here. Get out!"
The moment the words left his mouth, he felt an icy glare burning into him.
Jesus. Dumbasses everywhere, and today's no exception.
"Silence!" Gideon barked, fury erupting. "This is our company's Young Master! You're both fired!"
Alaric shook his head. "Look down on someone based on appearances? Pathetic."
"This way, Young Master," Gideon said with a half-bow.
Mr. Rafe and Thalina froze in terror.
Young Master?
He really was the Young Master?!
As Alaric and Gideon turned to leave, Mr. Rafe lunged forward, forcing a smile as he groveled, "Young Master, I was a fool! Spare me this once!"
He finally understood—the Chairman's deference to this young man was unmistakable. Nexora Group ranked seventh in the Global Fortune 500, and its Chairman was worth billions. If he called this man "Young Master," it had to be true.
Thalina scrambled over too, her face stretched into a desperate smile. "Young Master, I was wrong! I'll never disrespect you again!"
Alaric shot Gideon a dismissive look. The old man immediately snapped at the guards, "What are you standing around for? Haul them out! From now on, neither of them sets foot in this building!"
"Young Master, please! We were wrong—"
Mr. Rafe and Thalina were unceremoniously yanked out by security.
Inside the Chairman's office:
Alaric dropped onto the COLOMBOSTILE ostrich leather sofa while Gideon stood stiffly, hands folded.
"Living the high life, Gideon? Ostrich leather? Classy," Alaric remarked, running a hand over the material.
"You honor me, Young Master," Gideon said humbly. "Just sign here, and it's all yours."
His tall, elegant secretary in a black dress stepped forward, holding out the papers.
Alaric glared at them. "You know damn well I don't want my dad's empire. I'm just here to borrow ten grand."
"I can't lend it to you," Gideon replied with a diplomatic smile.
"You old fool, say that again!" Alaric exploded, leaping to his feet with fists clenched.
Unfazed, Gideon repeated calmly: "I can't lend it."
Then, his wrinkled face crinkled like a blooming chrysanthemum as he dangled the bait: "Young Master, just sign these documents. Not just $100,000 - ten billion, a hundred billion, all of it becomes yours."
"Screw your money! If I sign today, I'll eat my damn hat!" Alaric fumed, pacing like a caged tiger.
Five minutes later...
"Congratulations, Young Master. You've now officially inherited the entire Splendor family empire," Gideon beamed, holding up the signed contract. "And here's your $100,000."
Gideon's face lit up with delight as the secretary produced a briefcase - opening it to reveal neat stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
"You old drama queen," Alaric snorted, grabbing a nearby plastic grocery bag. "Could've just handed me an envelope instead of this theatrical production." He began stuffing the cash into the flimsy bag.
"Shall I arrange the car, Young Master?" Gideon inquired with a bow.
"Save it. My electric bike's parked outside," Alaric shot back, swinging the bulging plastic bag.
The moment the door closed, Gideon rushed to the penthouse conference room where a massive video screen flickered to life.
"My Lord," Gideon announced to the frail figure on screen, "the Young Master has signed!" His voice cracked with emotion.
The wheelchair-bound patriarch raised a trembling hand. "Then... make the announcement..." each word labored yet triumphant.
Across the globe, emails reached every Splendor Group executive: Alaric Splendor, sole heir, had assumed control of all family holdings spanning real estate, entertainment, tech, and finance.
Back at the hospital, Alaric hurried down the corridor only to freeze at the sight before him - Jade and Elandor sitting close in the hospital room, their laughter grating. He clenched his fists in anger.
"Where the hell have you been?" Jade's voice cut like ice, her eyes full of disappointment. "Our daughter's sick, and you're out screwing around?"
Elandor smirked from his seat. "Don't tell me you were scrambling for cash? Relax, I've got little Aria's bills covered. After all," he added smugly, "she calls me Uncle."
"My daughter's expenses are none of your concern," Alaric growled, the plastic bag of cash in his hand.
"Alaric!" Jade snapped. "Apologize to Elandor this instant!" Her scolding echoed through the room as Elandor smiled smugly.
Jade immediately lashed out—as if she didn't know exactly what kind of man her husband was!
After Mr. Stone had been kind enough to cover the medical bills, this was how he repaid him? What terrible manners!
"Jade, don't be upset," Mr. Stone said, pretending to be sympathetic. "Maybe Alaric failed to borrow money and is taking it out on us."
Jade glared daggers at Alaric, thinking even less of him now.
Alaric's fists clenched white-knuckled as he fought to control his rage, staring at the two of them. He was itching to smash his fist into Zane's face.
Jade?
Since when was this asshole allowed to call her that?
Damn it, Jade, I'm still your husband! Have you completely lost your shame?!