Damion Lancaster is Secretly The Trillionaire Boss

Chapter 2: How Much is Money?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Damion felt groggy as his eyes opened. A haze cleared from his eyes, and he registered with his surroundings. This was a hospital room.

He winced. The ache in his head was out of this world. When he touched his head, it had been bandaged, wrapped all the way around.

"Mr. Damion, how are you feeling?" 

He met the kind gaze of the doctor standing at the side of his bed. A few nurses had accompanied him.

"Tired. My head hurts," Damion croaked, mouth dry.

The doctor scribbled down something on his notepad. "Yes, that's normal. You sustained a head injury from the impact of your fall, but I'm glad to tell you that you are out of danger."

"When do I get to leave?"

"In a few weeks. We will have to monitor you for the time being."

When the time came for Damion to leave the hospital, the accountant had prepared his bill, and the amount almost gave him a heart attack.

"$5000?" his eyes popped from their sockets.

Damion didn't have that kind of money.

But the nurse delivering the bill smiled sweetly at him. "Mr. Damion, please make your payment at the counter after you speak to Dr. Varma."

Inside the doctor's office.

"The nurse asked me to see you." Damion shut the door behind him and settled into the cold metal chair next to the neat desk.

His window unit made this office a version of the North Pole.

Doctor Varma kept his fingers steeple on his desk. "Yes, I wanted to inform you personally about some outstanding intravenous medication that you must check in daily to receive."

Damion gave it a thought, shrugging. "That won't be a problem. What else, doc?"

"Each dosage costs $200, and you'll be needing four of it."

Beep. Beep. Damion heard the amount, and his face fell. 

He scratched the back of his neck at a loss for words. "Uhm...th—thank you for informing me, Dr. Varma. I will try and make it."

At once, he stood and left the hospital. It was raining cats and dogs as he took the subway home. Damion had to purchase an umbrella at a nearby store to complete his journey after the train ride.

He had spent all his savings on his medical bills, and now that banging headache had returned.

He didn't even have enough to feed himself for a week.

Damion raked a hand through his hair repeatedly as he walked down his street. His clothes were soaked despite the umbrella, but there was nothing he could do.

He reached the corner around his house and heard a ruckus. The sound of things clattering to the ground and constant yelling. 

Damion became alert. He ran the rest of the way, ditching the umbrella. At his house gate, he found his landlord inside his home.

His door had been breached, and all of his things were on the grass outside, bathing under the rain.

His couch. His broken TV set. Even his closet had been dunked out here.

"Hey! Stop it," Damion ran towards the middle-aged man, grabbing him, "No, you can't do that. Stop!"

The man shoved him off, determined to throw out all of his things tonight. Damion grabbed the next item off his landlord's hands and tossed it back inside his home.

He panted, throwing his hands up. "What the hell are you doing?"

The man's stony glare fixed on him. "You must be mad to think I'll let you live under my roof for another second—"

"Please!" Damion raised his hands cautiously, blocking the man's path into his home. "Calm down."

"Calm down? I hadn't heard from you in weeks! Where’s the four-months rent you owe me, Damion?!"

Panic surged inside Damion. He began to do the maths. It was over $2000 he owed as rent. 

Damion had used part of his savings to take Maliya out to that place she liked so much for dinner. The rest had gone into his medical bills, and now he was worse than a pauper.

"Let's see how tomorrow goes." He tried grabbing the man's wrist.

His landlord had swiped him off again, moving with renewed anger. He grabbed his picture frames and smashed them on the cobblestone pathway outside.

Damion saw red. 

"If you don’t stop now, things will get really ugly, sir!" He growled.

"Where’s my money?" 

"I said, I will hand everything to you by morning," he gritted the words out again, fisting his hands.

But the landlord scoffed. "Do you take me for a fool, Damion?"

He raised up the next photo of Damion and two other people, who looked ecstatic about the day they were having. Immediately, Damion grabbed his wrist, forcing him to let go of his precious picture.

"Tomorrow, Mr. Duff." Damion's icy tone could make anyone scared. "You have done enough damage already, and I won't want to repeat myself again."

The tables turned. That fire in Damion's eyes had meant to warn the man off, and it worked.

He left. 

Damion began moving his things out of the rain despite being so cold.

Hours later. Damion had finished cramming everything the landlord had tampered with back into his home.

After a hot shower, he jumped on his bed, only for the wood to give out. Of all days, it was today that a cluster fuck of bad-luck decided to follow him around.

"Damn it!" He cursed, moving his mattress to the floor.

Damion tried closing his eyes, but minutes later, a ping from his phone awakened him.

Sleepily, he swiped up and checked the notification bar.  

"+100,000,000,000."