2025-12-24 20:15:44Kendrick met Zara and Jayson at the campus gate just as the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the pavement. The usual bustle of Prestige International University moved around them—luxury cars pulling in and out, students laughing, voices carrying—but Zara barely noticed any of it. She paced back and forth, arms crossed tightly, anxiety written plainly across her face. Jayson stood beside her, calmer on the surface, but his constant glances at his watch betrayed his worry.
The moment Kendrick stepped out of the taxi, both of them turned sharply.
“Where have you been?” Zara asked immediately, relief and frustration tangling in her voice. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Kendrick didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he calmly reached into one of the shopping bags he carried and gently handed her a familiar orange box tied neatly with a white ribbon.
“Open it.”
Zara frowned, confusion flashing across her face. “Kendrick, this isn’t the time—”
“Open it,” he repeated softly.
Slowly, cautiously, she untied the ribbon. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid.
The moment she saw what was inside, her breath caught so sharply it almost hurt.
Her hands froze.
“No…” she whispered. “Kendrick… this can’t be real.”
Nestled inside the box lay the Hermès Birkin Himalaya, pristine, breathtaking, its pale, almost icy texture glowing softly in the fading sunlight. Even people who knew nothing about fashion understood the weight of its presence.
Jayson stepped closer, eyes widening. “Do you have any idea what that bag costs?”
“About six hundred and eighty thousand dollars,” Kendrick replied calmly, as if he were stating the price of a cup of coffee.
Zara nearly dropped the box.
Her knees weakened, and she had to steady herself against the gate. “This isn’t funny,” she said shakily. “Where did you get this?”
Before she could ask another question, Kendrick turned to Jayson and handed him a black velvet case.
Jayson opened it.
His breath hitched.
“A platinum Rolex Daytona,” he said hoarsely. “This… this is worth over three hundred thousand dollars.”
They both stared at Kendrick now, shock rendering them speechless.
“Yesterday,” Jayson said slowly, carefully choosing his words, “you were dumped because you were broke. Today, you’re giving us gifts worth more than most people will earn in their entire lives.”
Zara swallowed hard. “Please,” she said quietly. “Tell us what’s going on.”
Kendrick smiled faintly, the same calm, unreadable expression he had worn all day. “Don’t worry. Just enjoy them. I’ll explain everything later.”
They were still trying to process it when Kendrick asked casually, “So… what did you get for the Chancellor?”
Jayson cleared his throat. “An exclusive limited-edition fountain pen. About ten thousand dollars.”
Zara added quickly, “I wrote him a personal memoir. I wanted it to be meaningful.”
They both turned back to Kendrick.
“And you?” Zara asked. “What did you get him?”
Kendrick paused.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Jayson frowned slightly. “You should get him something. Even a small gift helps. It might reduce how much people target you in this school.”
Kendrick chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it before the party starts.”
…
That evening, the Chancellor’s birthday celebration transformed the university’s grand hall into something out of a high-society gala.
Crystal chandeliers bathed the space in golden light. A live orchestra played softly, violins and cellos weaving elegance into the air. Wealthy parents, influential alumni, business leaders, and elite students filled the hall, their conversations blending into a constant hum of importance.
At the center stood a decorated stage, adorned with flowers and a massive banner celebrating the Chancellor.
Paul Brown—Clinton’s close friend and one of Kendrick’s loudest critics—stood confidently at the microphone, his smile sharp, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Clinton, Bryan, Melissa, and their inner circle occupied a prominent table near the front. Laughter surrounded them, admiration flowed freely, and Melissa looked stunning in a shimmering dress. Yet her eyes scanned the room repeatedly, as if searching for something—or someone.
Paul tapped the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced grandly, “tonight, we celebrate not only the Chancellor’s birthday… but also success.”
The room quieted.
“Allow me to introduce the latest billionaire in town,” Paul continued, his grin widening. “A man whose family finalized a powerful deal today with the Hale Group themselves.”
A beat.
“Clinton.”
The hall erupted in applause.
Clinton stood, smiling broadly, waving casually.
But inside, his chest tightened painfully.
The deal hadn’t gone through.
They had been humiliated.
Thrown out.
Yet with so many eyes on him, backing down wasn’t an option.
Paul thrust the microphone into his hand. “Say hi to everyone.”
Clinton laughed nervously. “Yo everyone. It’s official. My father and I struck a deal today with the Hales…” He paused dramatically. “Billionaire status unlocked.”
Cheers followed.
At a table toward the side of the hall, Kendrick leaned back in his chair, quietly amused.
Zara shook her head. “He’s always been proud. If this is true, he’s about to be unbearable.”
Jayson sighed. “It’s already starting.”
Kendrick’s lips curved slightly. “Don’t worry. He was thrown out.”
They both turned sharply toward him.
“Thrown out?” Zara asked. “How do you know?”
“I know more than you think,” Kendrick replied calmly.
“If he was thrown out,” Jayson pressed, “why isn’t the news everywhere yet?”
Before Kendrick could answer, Paul’s gaze landed on their table.
He smirked and raised the microphone again.
“Why is a mouse disturbing kings and lions?” he mocked.
The hall erupted in laughter as attention shifted toward Kendrick, Zara, and Jayson.
Paul continued loudly, “Don’t you know you’re supposed to stand up and worship the newest billionaire on campus?”
He turned theatrically toward Clinton. “Aren’t they supposed to be worshipping you?”
Clinton forced a laugh. “Of course.”
But his eyes flicked toward Kendrick.
Unease crept in.
For a split second, fear whispered in his mind—What if Kendrick knows?
Then he brushed the thought aside.
Before he and his father had been thrown out of the Hale building, they had paid security to beat Kendrick. Surely, those guards had done their job. Surely Kendrick had been dragged out long before any meeting even started.
Clinton leaned forward, arrogance snapping back into place. “Hey you,” he said loudly, pointing at Kendrick. “Aren’t you supposed to bow? I can buy your entire family, your past four generations, and the next four generations.”
Laughter roared.
Even the Chancellor smiled awkwardly, uncomfortable but unwilling to interfere. A little student drama only made the party more entertaining.
Zara shot to her feet. “Money doesn’t excuse disrespect.”
Clinton sneered. “Shut up. I can buy your entire family too. None of your fathers here compare to mine.”
The tension thickened, heavy and suffocating.
Then Kendrick stood.
His chair scraped softly against the floor.
His voice was calm, steady—but loud enough to slice through the noise.
“Clinton,” he said evenly, “don’t force me to expose your secret.”
The hall fell dead silent.
Clinton froze.
Paul blinked. “Secret?”
Whispers erupted instantly.
“What secret?”
“Did you hear that?”
Clinton’s face drained of color.
Every eye turned to Kendrick.
And for the first time that night—
The room felt like it was about to explode.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
chapter 94
There were missed safety checks, rushed audits, quiet complaints buried in files and Kendrick watched everything. From afar, he studied reports, spoke quietly with former employees, and listened more than he talked. He sat in small rooms, away from cameras, reading financial statements line by line. He noted which contracts Bernard rewrote. Which safeguards vanished. Which names appeared again and again in places they shouldn’t.Zara found him one evening, surrounded by papers. “You could stop this,” she said softly. “One word from you and the board would hesitate.”“That’s exactly why I won’t,” Kendrick replied.She frowned. “You’re letting him destroy what you built.”“No,” he said calmly. “I’m letting him show everyone how he really runs it. He's going to destroy it himself. I don't have to do anything”While Bernard ruled unchecked, Kendrick learned. He learned who stayed silent out of fear and who stayed loyal out of belief. He learned which investors asked questions and which on
chapter 93
The second family lived across town. A cramped apartment above a shop that smelled of oil and dust. A teenage boy answered the door this time, eyes red, jaw clenched.“My father died because of you,” the boy said flatly.Kendrick nodded. “I know and I'm here with folded hands just to apologize.”The boy’s fists curled. For a second, Kendrick thought he might be hit. He didn’t step back.“You don’t know anything,” the boy said. “You get to walk around. My dad doesn’t.”“I know,” Kendrick said again. And this time, his voice cracked.The boy’s anger wavered, confused by the lack of defense, the lack of excuses. He called his mother. She came out wiping her hands on her clothes, her face tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.They didn’t invite him in. They didn’t offer a chair.They talked, mostly, they accused him of killing a lot of innocent people and that because of him, they won't get back their happy family. Kendrick listened. He didn’t interrupt when the woman cried o
chapter 92
Kendrick sat in the corner of Adrian's house, staring out the tall windows at the city below. The sun was bright, but he didn’t notice. He didn’t answer calls, didn’t return messages, and certainly didn’t give interviews. Not a word to the press. Not a hint of defense.The world assumed he was defeated. The tabloids ran stories about a broken empire, a fallen man. Stock prices wavered. Investors whispered.Bernard Hale, in his penthouse high above the river, leaned back in his leather chair, a smirk spreading across his face.“Look at him,” Bernard said, swirling his brandy. “Since he came back, he's been silent, and broken. Prison really did its work.”Cherry, standing nearby, smiled happily, “then let's celebrate?”Bernard shrugged. “He’s done nothing. That’s what makes it delicious. He doesn’t fight. He doesn’t explain. The more he stays quiet, the more people think he’s powerless just as I've made him become.”Meanwhile, Kendrick moved through Adrian's estate with slow, measured
chapter 91
Bernard heard about the accident before the evening news did. The call came while he was in his study, the room lit only by a desk lamp and the blue glow of a city that never quite slept. He was reviewing documents, routine, harmless-looking papers that meant very dangerous things when his secure phone vibrated once.He answered without greeting.“Yes.”A pause. Then, carefully choose words.“There was an incident,” the voice said. “But the target survived.”Bernard leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. He did not look angry. He did not even look disappointed.“Survived,” he repeated. “Define survived.”“Hospitalized. Injuries, but not fatal.”Bernard exhaled slowly through his nose, almost amused.“So,” he said, “he made it out of prison… and straight into a hospital bed.”“Yes.”Another pause, then Bernard smiled.“That will do,” he said. “For now.”The call ended. Bernard stood and walked toward the wide glass windows overlooking the city. Somewhere out ther
chapter 90
He refused to let this place take anything more from him, not even dignity.The gate buzzed. Metal scraped against metal. Then, for the first time in half a year, the doors opened outward instead of closing behind him.He stepped outside. The sunlight hit him so suddenly he stopped walking. It wasn’t just bright, it was alive, warm, and he loved the feel of it on his face. He squinted, lifting his hand as if touching the light might make it vanish. For a moment, he simply stood there, breathing, letting the sun rest on his face like a quiet Apology.“I forgot,” he murmured to himself. “This is what it feels like.”The sun in prison had always been filtered through bars, through wire, through schedules and permission. This was different. This sun belonged to no one.“Kendrick.” He turned.Zara stood a few steps away, leaning against a dark sedan. Her hair was pulled back, her face thinner than he remembered, but her eyes, those hadn’t changed. They softened the moment they met him.F
chapter 89
Prison learned Kendrick’s name quickly. Not from the guards but from the bruises he usually gets. The fourth month was worse than the first.It began in the laundry room. The machines roared, drowning out sound. Steam fogged the air. Kendrick was folding a stack of uniforms when a shadow fell across him.“You walk like you still own everything right? You think you're still in your mansion, don't you?,” a man said.Kendrick didn’t look up. “I don’t own anything here. I'm just here to just serve my time”The man laughed, mimicking Kendrick. “That’s what they all say.”Hands shoved Kendrick forward. His face slammed into a metal table. Pain exploded across his nose. Someone twisted his arm behind his back.“Say it,” another voice hissed. “Say you deserved it.”Kendrick’s breath came sharp. Blood dripped onto the floor.“I didn’t kill anyone,” he said.The grip tightened, bones creaked. Then the door burst open. Guards stormed in. Batons cracked the air. The attackers scattered like rats.
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