Benjamin Wayne's Rise to Power

Chapter 5

Benjamin’s POV

The moment Ryan and Rose stormed out of the garden, the air seemed to settle again. For the first time since they appeared, I could breathe.

The manager turned to me at once, his posture stiff with guilt. “Sir, I sincerely apologize for their behavior.”

“You don’t need to,” I said. “They’re not your problem.”

The manager shook his head. “Even so, they caused trouble under my watch. I take that seriously.”

He paused, choosing his words. “I will arrange two plainclothes bodyguards to accompany you from now on. They will stay out of sight but close enough to step in if something like this happens.”

That startled me. “Bodyguards? Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Not for someone of your status,” he said quietly.

I wasn’t sure what my status even was yet, but he continued before I could reply.

“There is another matter. Your appearance…” He hesitated. “Some might mistake you for staff. If you would allow it, we can provide several new outfits.”

Ah. Clothes. I raised an eyebrow.

My eyes dropped to my faded shirt and worn-out jeans. He wasn’t wrong. For the first time in years, I actually felt self-conscious. 

But then I remembered what the guard had said. The rich and elites dressed simply. Custom-made, understated, and quiet. Only the insecure flaunted the latest labels.

“No logos. Just a few outfits that look… old money, I guess.”

The manager’s relief was instant. “Of course. We will have them tailored and delivered to your suite in the morning.”

I almost smiled. “Thanks.”

The manager bowed slightly, almost too respectfully. “Please rest well, Sir.”

***

The next morning, sunlight slipped through the tall windows and warmed the edge of the king-size bed. It was softer than anything I had ever slept in. I lingered for a moment, sinking into the blankets, wondering if this kind of comfort would ever stop feeling unreal.

But reality wasn’t going to wait for me.

I got up, showered, and changed into one of the outfits left neatly folded on a chair. The fabric was clean and tailored. The shirt hugged me perfectly without feeling tight. Not a single label in sight. The pants fit like they were measured on me. Even the shoes felt custom-made.

Simple. Comfortable. Clean.

I looked almost like someone who belonged somewhere.

Almost.

I grabbed my backpack and headed down. The manager was already in the lobby, standing with two men who blended into the setting too well.

“Your escorts,” he said quietly. “They will stay discreet.”

I nodded. “Alright.”

With that, I left the hotel and made my way to campus. It felt strange walking through the gates with clothes that actually fit. No one stared at me for looking shabby. They stared because I didn’t look shabby at all.

Memovile University wasn’t a bad school. It was just… shallow. Most students came from comfortable families and made sure everyone knew it. A few were like me, stuck between wanting to belong and knowing we never truly would.

Back then, I could have gone somewhere better, but scholarships only covered so much. My adoptive parents wouldn’t pay so much as a cent so long as it involved. Memovile University offered a half scholarship. That was it. End of discussion. So I ended up stuck in the same place as Ryan.

Lucky me.

***

When I stepped into Professor Aaron Caldwell’s classroom, the vibe shifted instantly. Everyone stopped talking and shifted their gaze towards me. 

Even Professor Caldwell paused mid-sentence.

For a moment, I just stood there watching as their eyes locked onto me like I had grown horns.

Just then, I heard Ryan's voice. “Look who finally crawled out of the security booth.”

A ripple of laughter broke out around him.

I turned toward the sound. He and Rose were lounging in the back row, flanked by his usual entourage. Ryan leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on me with a sharp, hungry kind of amusement—like a pack waiting for the signal to pounce.

I smiled faintly then took my seat.

“If someone who bought his way in can attend class, then why can’t I?” I said, then turned to see his face.

His face tightened. “At least I didn’t sneak into a hotel like a rat.” He shot back.

I shrugged. “But you got slapped like one.”

The laughter that erupted was quick and sharp. 

Professor Caldwell cleared his throat loudly. “Benjamin.”

The whole room quieted.

“You may think you’re being funny, but I suggest you treat Ryan better. With his family rising in influence, someone like you should learn to be polite.” His smile was thin, petty. “There is a reason people like him will always excel. And people like you… well. You should understand your limits.”

I couldn’t hold back a small laugh. “Professor, maybe you should focus on teaching instead of kissing up to students. I mean... you could get involved in a scandal one day, if you’re not careful."

Gasps rippled through the room.

Professor Caldwell’s face turned a violent shade of red. “You—how dare you speak to me like that! I could fail you!”

I met his glare calmly. “You can try.”

A chair scraped loudly as someone stood up. One of Ryan's goons, Chris, cracked his knuckles.

“That’s it. I’m tired of listening to this loser.” He jerked his chin toward a few guys behind him. “Let’s teach him a lesson.”

Behind me, I heard movement. The hair on the back of my neck rose. My bodyguards were probably already watching.

I stood and looked Chris dead in the eye. “Try it.”

I didn’t raise my voice, but something in my tone must have gotten through. Chris hesitated. His friends exchanged confused looks.

Before anyone moved, another voice cut in.

“Seriously? You guys sound like gangsters.” Elise crossed her arms, then shifted her gaze to Ryan. “This is school. You’re going way too far.”

Elise had always been decent. Well, I expected nothing less considering she came from a wealthy middle-class family. And unlike the others, she never looked or treated me like I was dirt.

Ryan scoffed. “Relax. I’m not going to hit him.” He pointed at me. “But he embarrassed both me and Rose last night. And there has to be a price for that.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Price? And what's this price if I may ask?”

Ryan leaned back with smug confidence. “Well, our fraternity is having dinner at the Grand Prix Hotel tonight. Foot the bills and we'll call it even—that's if you can.”

The class went silent.

Elise stepped forward. “Are you crazy? You’re trying to trap him. The Grand Prix Hotels? Ryan, that’s thousands of dollars. You know he doesn’t have that kind of money.”

Ryan smirked. “That’s the point.”

I looked at Elise for a moment, then back at Ryan. And then smiled—the kind that twisted just enough to make Ryan's smirk falter.

"Ryan," I called out. "Deal.”