Rise Of Michael Jordan

Chapter 3

Meanwhile, Micheal had already settled into the luxurious interior of a Rolls Royce, the leather seats soft beneath him as the car glided smoothly through the streets toward Vegas General Hospital, his thoughts calm and focused despite the chaos of the past hours, when suddenly his phone began to ring, and to his surprise, the screen displayed Vivian’s name, but since their relationship was officially over, Micheal saw no reason to answer, and yet the persistent ringing, urgent and insistent, seemed to demand his attention, making his frown deepen as he finally decided to pick up the call.

“Micheal, listen to me. Turn yourself in immediately!” Vivian’s voice blared through the speaker, sharp and commanding, catching Micheal completely off guard and forcing him to pause mid-thought, her tone heavy with urgency and righteous indignation as she continued without waiting for a response.

“That King of Diamonds is worth eight million dollars, Micheal! Have you lost your mind? I know you did this to make me happy, but have you even considered the legal consequences of your actions? Turn yourself in now, while there’s still time. Don’t worry; with Loyd Corporation’s influence in Vegas, I will do my best to keep you out of jail,” she said, her voice trembling with both disappointment and the frustration of someone who had trusted deeply only to feel betrayed, her words cutting through the quiet of the car and leaving Micheal momentarily speechless.

Finally understanding that she truly believed he had stolen the King of Diamonds, Micheal’s expression hardened, and he spoke simply, deliberately, wanting nothing more than to clarify without wasting energy on explanations. “You’ve got it wrong. I didn’t steal it,” he said, his tone calm but carrying an edge of controlled irritation that made it clear he would not bend to her assumptions.

Vivian’s anger flared immediately, her voice rising and trembling with a mixture of disbelief and accusation. “Micheal, are you still trying to deny it? Dammy and the Loyd Corporation employees told me everything!” she cried, her words sharp enough to make Micheal feel a chill run down his spine, a cold sensation that reminded him that even those who were supposed to know him well could so easily misjudge him.

His eyes narrowed, and a slow, icy laugh escaped him, his voice low and cutting as he finally confronted her misguided confidence. “Vivian, is that really what you think of me? You trust someone like Dammy over me, after everything we shared, after everything I’ve done for you?”

Vivian hesitated, the words catching in her throat as guilt and concern flickered briefly across her composed exterior. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt your pride, Micheal, but this is serious. The owner of Phoenix Jewelers is not someone even I take lightly. Don’t you understand? I can’t protect you from this,” she admitted, her voice faltering slightly as the weight of the situation pressed down on her, leaving a tension in the line that seemed almost tangible.

Micheal could not suppress a scoff, the sound sharp and icy as he replied with deliberate calm, every word carrying the finality of a man who had made peace with the world around him. “Even now, you still believe that I stole it. Fine, if that’s what you want to think, go ahead. You can call the police, tip them off, or do whatever else you feel is necessary. I am not afraid.”

“Micheal, why are you being so—” Vivian began, her voice faltering and trembling, but before she could finish, Micheal ended the call, leaving her staring at the phone, her lips parted in shock, unable to comprehend the sudden severance of communication from the man she had once known so well, the old Micheal who would have listened to her advice, who would have at least entertained her words, now gone, replaced by someone untouchable and resolute.

“Micheal, I never realized you could be so stubborn and ungrateful,” she muttered to herself, her words soft but sharp with the sting of disappointment, the realization settling like a weight in her chest as she continued, “I suppose I was foolish to care. Our relationship is over anyway, so do whatever you want. I will not bother anymore,” her voice fading into the silence of the room as the phone lay cold in her hand.

As she spoke those words, Vivian felt a strange sense of relief, as if calling off the wedding had finally allowed her to see Micheal’s true nature for what it was, removing the last traces of doubt she had harbored about him over the years, and she straightened slightly in her chair, her composure returning, even as a flicker of irritation passed through her at the memory of his actions.

“I told you, Micheal’s nothing but a thief,” Dammy chimed in, his voice dripping with disdain, each word carrying the smug satisfaction of someone who believed himself victorious. “It’s a good thing your relationship is over. Who knows what he might have dragged you into if it hadn’t ended?”

Vivian, feeling the irritation rise but determined not to lose control, shifted the conversation, forcing her calm, sharp tone back into place as she asked, “Dammy, what brings you to Loyd Corporation today?”

Dammy winced as her words cut through the lingering pain in his face, the swelling from his earlier encounter with Micheal making every movement uncomfortable, yet he forced a smile, trying to appear composed. “Vivian, don’t you remember? Tonight’s the fundraiser for the South City Orphanage, and many powerful players in Vegas have their eyes on that property. We need to be prepared!”

At the mention of business, Vivian’s expression hardened, her mind shifting seamlessly into the role she had always inhabited as CEO of one of Vegas’s most prominent corporations. “You’re right,” she said sharply, the steel in her voice cutting through the room, “the South City Orphanage property is incredibly valuable, and we must secure it at all costs.”

Dammy, sensing an opportunity, leaned slightly forward, his voice eager and calculating as he continued, “I knew you wouldn’t let this chance slip by. My family is ready to support Loyd Corporation fully, and with our forces combined, it’s practically a done deal.”

Vivian’s face softened slightly, a carefully measured smile appearing as she acknowledged his words. “Thank you, Dammy. That’s very kind of you. Of course, we’ll be sure to return the favor to your family in the future,” she said, her tone polite yet firm, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Encouraged by her response, Dammy beamed, his pride swelling as he said, “Oh, Vivian, I brought you some flowers—blue roses, your favorite. They’re as beautiful as you are!”

But as he reached for the carefully prepared bouquet, his hand froze in shock as he realized that it had been crushed and stained with his own blood from the earlier fight with Micheal, and his face fell, a deep flush of embarrassment spreading across his features.

Ivy, ever self-important and quick to claim anything for herself, leaned forward with a condescending smile. “Oh, it’s no big deal! It’s just a few petals. If Vivian doesn’t want them, I’ll take them. It’s been ages since anyone gave me flowers,” she said, her tone dripping with false cheer, leaving Dammy silently cursing Micheal under his breath, his mind already formulating plans for revenge.

Meanwhile, at the entrance of Vegas General Hospital, a sleek Rolls Royce came to a smooth stop, the engine’s purr fading into silence as the driver, Marvin Cross, turned toward Micheal with a respectful tone and a hint of restrained excitement. “Mr. Jordan, should I take care of this? Say the word, and I can make Loyd Corporation disappear overnight. They’d vanish from Vegas without a trace. They’re nothing but worthless scumbags,” Marvin said, his voice low but firm, betraying both loyalty and the satisfaction of having the power to execute such a plan.

Seated calmly in the back of the car, Micheal’s expression remained cool, his eyes reflecting neither anger nor desire for revenge as he responded, his voice measured and resolute, “My relationship with Vivian may be over, but I’m not the type to seek petty revenge. That’s beneath us, Marvin,” and he leaned back in the soft leather seat, his gaze steady and unshaken, as the Rolls Royce pulled away, leaving the chaos of Loyd Corporation and the ambitions of the wealthy behind him.

He continued, his voice calm but tinged with amusement, “By the way, Marvin, you’re the wealthiest man in Vegas now, yet you still act like you’re on the streets. Try to shake off some of those rough edges from your old days. You don’t need to curse every other word.”

Marvin grinned sheepishly, a little embarrassed but unwilling to hide his pride. “You’re right, Mr. Jordan. I’ll try to be more sophisticated, but reaching your level of class? That’s going to be tough!”

Micheal shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he felt a mixture of helplessness and affection toward Marvin’s antics, before stepping out of the Rolls Royce after Marvin opened the door for him with a flourish, and he made his way briskly into Vegas General Hospital, where he was currently working as a doctor, his movements precise and confident, even as the crowd outside the entrance gawked in disbelief at the unusual sight.

“Wait, look at that guy getting out of the car. Isn’t that Marvin Cross, the richest man in Vegas?” one passerby whispered, pointing in astonishment.

“Holy cow, the wealthiest guy in town is playing chauffeur? Who’s that young man?” another added, craning their neck to get a better look.

“You know, he looks familiar. Isn’t that Dr. Jordan from Vegas General?” a third voice chimed in, full of curiosity and skepticism.

“Get real,” another scoffed, shaking their head. “A mere hospital doctor wouldn’t have Marvin Cross opening doors for him. Must be some big shot’s son we don’t know about.”

“You’re right,” someone else agreed, their tone lowered in awe. “Since Marvin has influence over almost everything in Vegas, this young man has to be really powerful, and he’s clearly not from around here.”

Inside the hospital, Micheal changed into his crisp white coat, the familiar weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders, and as he adjusted it, one of his colleagues, Anderson Stones, approached with a smirk that clearly carried both mockery and curiosity, his eyes flicking with amusement as he said, “Well, well, Micheal. Word on the street is that Vivian dumped you,” his tone sharp and playful, designed to provoke a reaction from the man who had become the center of so many whispers throughout the city.

Micheal frowned slightly, a shadow of annoyance crossing his face as he wondered how news of his breakup with Vivian had spread so quickly through the hospital, seemingly reaching every corner before he could even process the events of the day, and his eyes narrowed just enough to betray a hint of curiosity mixed with irritation.

Anderson, noticing Micheal’s reaction and sensing an opportunity to gloat, pressed on with increasing glee, his voice carrying both amusement and malice as he said, “Oh, you haven’t heard? Loyd Corporation just dropped a bombshell, announcing her union with Sebastian Parley. They’re practically telling the entire city that you’ve been kicked to the curb, Dr. Jordan. No offense, I’m just calling it like I see it!”

Micheal regarded Anderson with complete indifference, his gaze calm, almost detached, as he replied in a measured tone, his words clipped but not harsh. “I appreciate your straightforwardness. So let me be clear—if you’re done talking, would you kindly get lost?”

Anderson’s face darkened instantly, his expression hardening as he leaned in slightly, attempting to intimidate Micheal, his voice low and threatening, laced with frustration. “Listen here, Micheal. When you were with Vivian, no one dared go against you. But Vivian’s protection isn’t going to save you anymore, and without her backing, you’re nothing in this hospital. You get that, right?”

Micheal raised a single eyebrow, his tone sharp yet calm, carrying the weight of someone who had long since learned not to be swayed by petty threats. “Is that what this is about, Anderson? Aren’t you just jealous?”

Anderson’s face flushed bright red, his composure slipping entirely as Micheal’s bluntness struck true, revealing the envy he had always harbored, an envy born of not understanding how Vivian could have seen anything in someone like Micheal, a young man who carried himself with quiet confidence and charm that Anderson had never been able to comprehend.

Before Anderson could respond, a sudden commotion erupted in the hallway, breaking the tension between the two men, as a group of men in black suits appeared, moving swiftly with an air of urgency and purpose, their voices loud and commanding as they shouted one after another, “Excuse us, coming through!” and “We need the best doctor in this hospital! Ms. Tyson is requesting immediate assistance!”