A Trillionaire Pauper

Chapter 3

Kendrick stared at the message on his phone long after the screen dimmed.

The words refused to make sense, blurring together as his exhausted mind tried—failed—to process them.

Sole heir.

Hale Empire.

Trillions.

It felt impossible.

A story too large. Too ridiculous. Too cruel to be true.

Not for someone like him.

Not after the worst day of his life.

He lay back against the stiff hospital mattress, bandages pulling at his skin, bruises throbbing with every breath. Laughter still echoed in his ears—sharp, mocking, endless. He could still see the phones pointed at him, capturing his humiliation from every angle, turning his pain into entertainment.

What kind of joke was this?

Was the universe mocking him now too?

His fingers tightened around the phone. His chest ached.

No… this had to be fake.

A scam. A prank. Some elaborate cruelty meant to break him just a little more.

But exhaustion won.

His eyelids grew heavy. His thoughts slowed. And despite the storm raging inside him, Kendrick drifted into sleep.

…

Morning came too fast.

Pain greeted him first.

Every muscle screamed as he shifted on the narrow bed. Bandages tugged at his skin, reminding him that yesterday had not been a nightmare—it had been very real. The shame, the beating, Melissa’s cold eyes, Bryan’s laughter.

It all came rushing back.

Then he saw it.

The black card.

It lay quietly on the bedside table, pristine and untouched, as though it didn’t belong in such a miserable room. The matte surface absorbed the light instead of reflecting it, its edges sharp and flawless.

Kendrick slowly reached for it.

The moment his fingers closed around it, his breath hitched.

Cold.

Heavy.

It felt… different.

Like it wasn’t just metal.

Like it carried weight far beyond its size.

As if it had been carved from the bones of power itself.

“This can’t be fake…” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

He knew enough.

Only three of these cards existed in the entire world.

Only the top 0.00000000001%—the people who made presidents kneel and countries tremble—owned them.

No one would spend this kind of money, build this level of detail, just to trick a poor campus errand boy.

Still…

Doubt gnawed at him relentlessly.

What if this was just another setup?

Another humiliation waiting to happen?

He swallowed hard.

“Let me just go and confirm,” he murmured to himself.

That was all he needed. Confirmation.

Nothing else mattered.

…

Kendrick climbed onto his small scooter outside the dorm.

The engine coughed weakly, sputtering like it was tired of life—much like him. He coaxed it forward and headed straight for Hale Empire Headquarters.

The ride felt longer than usual.

His heart pounded the entire way.

What if it was real?

What if he had actually been chosen?

What if everything he had suffered—every insult, every slap, every moment of humiliation—wasn’t the end…

But the beginning?

The skyline shifted as the city’s heart came into view.

And then—

Hale Empire.

The building dominated everything around it.

A colossal tower of glass and gold, piercing the sky like a blade. Sunlight reflected off its surface so fiercely it almost hurt to look at. Armed guards stood at every entrance, weapons sleek and terrifyingly expensive.

This wasn’t just a company.

It was a fortress.

Kendrick slowed his scooter, throat dry.

He didn’t belong here.

But his body carried him forward anyway.

He rode toward the parking lot, hands trembling.

And then—

CRRRRRSSSH!

The sound ripped through the air.

Metal scraped violently against metal.

Kendrick’s scooter jolted as it brushed against something impossibly smooth.

His heart dropped straight into his stomach.

Slowly… dreadfully… he looked up.

A sleek white Porsche.

Flawless.

So expensive it could buy his entire campus twice over.

“No… no, no…” Kendrick whispered, panic surging. “God, please no…”

Before he could even breathe properly, the Porsche doors opened.

And out stepped the last person he wanted to see.

Clinton.

And beside him—

Clinton’s father.

A man whose wealth was loud… but whose arrogance was louder.

Clinton’s eyes widened in surprise.

Then curled into a wicked smirk.

“Ohhh,” Clinton said loudly, making sure everyone nearby could hear. “Look who we have here. The errand pauper again.”

He laughed.

“Are you stalking me now? Did you follow me here because of what happened with your girlfriend?”

Kendrick didn’t respond.

Didn’t defend himself.

Didn’t care.

All he wanted—no, needed—was to confirm the message he had received that morning.

But Clinton and his father weren’t finished.

“How dare a thing like you touch my car?” Mr. Voss barked, stepping closer. “You poor rats don’t understand value. That scratch alone is worth more than your miserable life.”

He sneered.

“And your whole generation.”

People passing by slowed, curiosity drawing them in. Heads turned. Whispers spread.

Clinton folded his arms, enjoying every second.

“It’s like he’s cursed to be useless,” he laughed.

Kendrick clenched his fists.

But stayed silent.

He had no time for them.

Clinton’s father hissed in disgust.

“Security!”

Three armed security men rushed over instantly.

“Beat him,” the man ordered coldly. “Make sure he can’t walk.”

He shoved a thick bundle of cash into one guard’s hand.

“Ten thousand dollars each. Break him.”

Clinton smiled proudly.

“Dad, let’s go,” he said. “We can’t be late. Mr. Desmond is waiting—the man who will make us billionaires.”

They turned and walked away confidently, heading straight into the building.

Leaving Kendrick behind.

To the wolves.

The guards grabbed him immediately, fingers digging into his arms. Knuckles cracked ominously as they dragged him forward.

Panic surged.

“Stop! Wait!” Kendrick shouted. “I—I am the new heir to the Hale Empire! I can prove it!”

The guards paused.

Then burst into laughter.

“If you’re the heir,” one said mockingly, “then I’m the President of the world.”

“And I’m the heir to the planet,” another added.

They laughed harder.

“Show us your proof, idiot.”

Kendrick’s hands shook as he reached for his phone.

“Look—the message—”

Before he could even unlock the screen, one guard snatched it and slammed it against the ground.

CRACK!

The screen shattered.

“No!” Kendrick gasped.

Desperation clawed at his chest. He quickly pulled out the black access card.

But instead of belief—

They recoiled in disdain.

“Liar!” one guard spat. “Thief! Criminal!”

He yanked the card from Kendrick’s hand and held it up, laughing.

“You stole this expensive card.”

The others joined in, mocking him mercilessly.

“You?” one sneered. “Owner of a trillion-dollar empire?”

Another scoffed. “You aren’t even owner of a decent life.”

Kendrick’s chest tightened painfully.

Helpless.

Again.

Not even the truth could save him.

And now—it was worse.

They had “proof.” A broken phone. A stolen card.

Enough excuse to destroy him completely.

They raised their fists.

Ready to beat him into unconsciousness.

Then—

A deep engine roared into the parking lot.

The sound alone commanded attention.

A Rolls-Royce Phantom glided in like a silent threat, its presence suffocating. Nearly ten million dollars of power rolled to a smooth stop.

Everything froze.

The door opened.

A woman stepped out.

Late twenties.

Sharply dressed.

Her aura was colder than steel.

Every guard straightened instantly.

Ms. Lizzy Gold.

She was feared.

Because she served only one person—

The Acting CEO of Hale Empire.

The most feared man in the world.

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Her voice sliced through the air like a blade.

Everyone turned.

And bowed immediately.

Kendrick bowed too, heart hammering, silently praying.

Lizzy Gold’s eyes locked onto him.

“Are you Kendrick Hale?” she asked.

He swallowed.

“Yes… ma’am.”

Instantly—

She bowed.

A full, perfect ninety-degree bow.

“You are very welcome, sir,” she said respectfully. “Please forgive us for the delay. We were supposed to meet you earlier. I sincerely apologize for this disrespect.”

The world stopped.

Gasps rippled through the parking lot.

The guards froze in horror.

“Ma—” one stammered. “You’re bowing to a thief. He—”

SLAP!

Lizzy struck him so hard his head snapped sideways.

“How dare you?” she hissed. “This is our boss’s boss. The rightful heir to the Hale Empire.”

The guards trembled violently.

“Slap each other,” she commanded coldly. “Until he tells you to stop.”

They obeyed instantly, panic flooding their faces.

Kendrick didn’t even look at them.

He simply bent down.

And picked up his black card.

“Sir,” Lizzy said gently, her tone completely different now. “Please follow me. The CEO, Mr. Adrian Drax, is waiting for you.”

Kendrick took a deep breath.

And followed behind her.