After Rejection, I Became A Trillionaire Heir

CHP 007 — WHO?

Chapter 7

The hospital doors flew open as Nicholas Bellingham stormed in, his heart pounding in his chest. 

The sterile smell of antiseptic hit him immediately, but he barely noticed. Panic had taken full control of him. Without thinking twice, he rushed straight to the reception desk.

“Miss, can I know where my sister is?” he asked breathlessly, his voice shaking with worry and fear.

The receptionist, startled by his sudden approach, blinked at him in confusion. Her lips tightened into a slight frown. “Good day to you, young man. Who are you looking for? I need the name of the patient and your relationship with them.”

“Olivia Bellingham,” Nicholas replied quickly, desperation thick in his voice. “She’s my sister. My biological sister.”

The woman gave him a second glance, reading the distress written all over his face. With a quiet sigh, she looked down at the checkbook in front of her, fingers flipping through the pages slowly. 

Too slow in the eyes of Nicholas. 

Nicholas couldn’t bear the silence. “Please, have you seen it? Where is she? Is she okay?” he demanded, not waiting for her to finish scanning the records.

The receptionist finally nodded. “The patient, Olivia, is in the surgery room. You’ll find her there.”

But she hadn't even finished her sentence before Nicholas took off, sprinting down the hallway, dodging stretchers and nurses, his heart climbing into his throat. 

A storm of thoughts swirled in his head—what if he was too late? What if they couldn't save her?

Worse yet, he hadn’t paid for the surgery. He didn’t have the money.

He reached the surgery room, chest heaving, and halted at the large double doors. Through the glass window, he saw doctors in their white uniform, moving swiftly around Olivia’s unconscious form. Machines beeped rhythmically. The sight sent a chill through his bones.

Nicholas felt like the ground had been ripped from beneath him. He staggered to a nearby metal bench and sat down heavily, burying his face in his hands.

He was helpless.

What kind of brother couldn’t pay for his own sister’s surgery? What kind of man watched his loved one slip away because he was too poor, too broken, too… useless?

The weight of guilt crushed him. His mind replayed all the cruel words Melissa, his ex-girlfriend, had thrown at him. 

“You're a burden, Nicholas. A worthless pauper. Among the eight billions people around the world, you deserve to be called a Man.”

And maybe she was right.

Nicholas trembled. Tears pricked his eyes and fell freely down his cheeks. This wasn’t how life was supposed to be. 

He had promised Olivia he would take care of her. Since he never know their parents, whether they are alive or dead —he didn't know. He had promised to protect her no matter what he takes. 

Now here he was. Sitting outside a surgery room. 

Broke!

Hopeless!

Not knowing what to do anymore. 

The door to the operating room suddenly swung open, and an obese man in a suit stepped out, his presence commanding attention. 

Nicholas recognized him instantly —he was the hospital’s Vice Director.

Nicholas stood up quickly, wiping at his face and approaching the man. “Sir… Sir, good afternoon.”

The man narrowed his eyes at him. “I know you. I’ve seen you before,” he said, voice sharp. “Haven’t I?”

“Yes, sir. I’m Olivia Bellingham’s brother. She’s in Ward 47B,” Nicholas replied, bowing his head in shame.

Recognition dawned on the Vice Director’s face, and his expression twisted with anger. “You! We sent you the bill last month, didn’t we? And yet, you’re still walking around here like you own the place. Do you think we run a charity?”

Nicholas winced at the harsh words. He didn’t try to defend himself. He couldn’t. He was at fault.

The Vice Director continued, “So what are you doing here? Are you finally here to pay for the surgery?”

“Erm… My sister…” Nicholas stammered, struggling for words.

“You can’t even talk properly! What are you doing outside the surgery room when you haven’t even paid a cent?” the man barked.

Nicholas gathered his courage and replied, “My sister is in the theater room. They’re operating on her now.”

The Vice Director’s face turned a deep red, rage boiling beneath his skin. “What?! Surgery?! And you haven’t paid yet?” He stepped forward menacingly. “You think this is a joke? Hospital rules clearly state: no payment, no treatment.”

Nicholas froze, fear gripping his heart. “Please don’t stop the surgery, I promise to find the money.”

The man ignored him and turned toward the operating room door. “I’m going in there right now. I’ll have them stop the operation immediately.”

Nicholas’s heart shattered. He dropped to his knees, hands clinging to the man’s pants desperately.

“Please! I’ll pay! I swear I will. Just don’t stop the surgery. She’s all I’ve got, sir. She’s my only family!” Tears streamed down his face as he pleaded.

“Get off me,” the man hissed. “If you can’t afford treatment, then don’t bring patients here to die.”

Suddenly, the door to the surgery room burst open again, and a doctor stormed out.

“What’s going on out here?” he snapped. “This is a surgery zone! There should be no noise!”

But the moment he saw the Vice Director, he froze. His posture straightened, and his expression turned pale. “Oh! Mr. Vice Director. I—I didn’t know it was you. I thought it was some random commotion.”

The Vice Director shot him a furious glare. “Why is Bellingham’s sister in the operating room? Have you lost your mind? That man hasn’t paid a single coin for her treatment!”

The doctor blinked. Then, with firm certainty, he replied, “Sir, I believe there’s a mistake. The Bellingham family’s bills were settled this morning. The entire surgery f*e and the outstanding payments have been cleared.”

Nicholas gasped. He looked up in disbelief. “What? That’s… not possible.”

The Vice Director turned to the doctor, confused. “What do you mean? Who paid for it?”

“I don’t know the details, sir. But the payment was processed. Full amount. It’s already on the system,” the doctor said.

Nicholas’s mind reeled. Who paid for it? When? How?