Divorced By My Wife, The System Made Me A Trillionaire!

Chapter 4

Julian's jaw dropped in shock. His eyes darted back and forth, first locking onto the guards, then shifting to Arthur, before snapping back to the guards again, as if searching for some kind of explanation or reassurance.

"What did you just call him?"

Nobody answered.

The second guard moved forward, his hand closing around Julian's arm like a vice.

Julian jerked his arm away, his eyes blazing with anger. "Take your hands off me," he spat. "You have no idea who my father is, or what I'm capable of. I'll make sure each and every one of you pays for this."

His gaze locked onto Arthur, his voice dripping with venom. "You think this is some kind of joke, don't you? You think you've somehow come out on top?"

Arthur moved in, his face inches from Julian's, so close that no one else could make out what he was about to say.

"You have six hours to get your father out of this hospital." His voice was soft. Almost kind. " Because after that, I’m putting my mother there and your father on the street”

Julian stared.

Arthur took a step back, his hand reaching up to gently pat his cheek once more.

"Tick tock, buddy."

The guards grabbed Julian, holding him tightly by both arms, and started to pull him towards the door.

He struggled and kicked, yelling at the top of his lungs about getting lawyers involved and filing lawsuits, and even mentioned that his father was on the board, as if that would somehow get him out of this situation.

The doors swung shut behind him.

Silence.

Patricia stood at the reception desk, mouth open. The younger nurse had stopped chewing entirely.

Dr. Whitmore cleared his throat.

"Hello Mr. Vance, I've got an update on your mom. She's doing okay, and the doctors say she's stable now. She'll be in the recovery room for about two hours, but after that, you'll be able to go in and see her."

Arthur nodded. " Thank you, Doctor."

As he headed down the hallway towards Room 412, he suddenly found himself face to face with a familiar sight - the blue glow that he knew so well had flickered on, stopping him in his tracks before he could even take a few steps.

[Ding!]

[Cashback Reward: Hospital Purchase ($20,000,000)]

[100x Cashback Applied: $2,000,000,000 deposited.]

[New Balance: $2,000,017,843.00]

Arthur stopped walking.

Two billion.

He blinked. Looked again. Still there. Still glowing.

Two billion dollars.

Before he could process it, the screen pulsed again.

[New Mission Issued!]

[Objective: Spend $40,000,000 on personal wardrobe within 12 hours.]

[Reward: 100x Cashback ($4,000,000,000)]

[Total Loss: Everything Gone. System Shut Down.]

[Accept? YES / NO]

Arthur stared at the words.

Failure Penalty: Full bankruptcy.

Everything gone. The hospital. His mother's treatment. The twenty billion. All of it. Snatched back like it never existed.

He swallowed.

"Fine," he muttered under his breath. " Fine."

He pressed YES.

[Mission Accepted. Timer: 12:00:00]

The numbers started counting down.

Arthur glanced toward Room 412. His mother was in recovery and had twelve hours to blow forty million dollars on clothes.

He would see his mother later

Minutes later, Arthur stepped out of the hospital.

The rain had stopped. The clouds were breaking apart, letting thin blades of sunlight cut through.

He was standing on the sidewalk, and as he stretched his neck to get a better look, that's when he caught sight of it. It was just a casual movement, but it changed everything.

Directly across the street. A building so tall it swallowed the sky. Glass walls. Gold trim. A name etched in steel letters above the entrance, each one the size of a car.

THE AURUM GALLERIA.

An exclusive mega-mall. Seven floors. Every luxury brand on the planet crammed under one roof.

Arthur stared at it.

“What a perfect place to spend Forty million dollars in Twelve hours.”

He crossed the street.

As he stepped inside, the doors swung open with a soft whoosh, and a rush of cool air, scented with a sweet perfume, enveloped him.

The lobby was enormous, with marble floors that shone like still water, reflecting the light from the crystal chandeliers that hung from a ceiling that seemed to stretch up to the sky.

The sound of gently flowing water drew his attention to a beautiful fountain, situated in the center of the room, surrounded by plush white leather benches that looked invitingly comfortable.

They strolled by, dressed to the nines in fancy coats and high-end shoes from Italy, with shopping bags plastered with logos .

He walked further into the area, passing by jewelry stores that had diamonds locked up tight behind strong glass.

The smell of expensive perfume filled the air as he walked by the perfume shops.

Then he saw a shoe store with just one pair of sneakers on display, sitting on a fancy velvet pedestal, and the price tag was a whopping $12,000.

Then he saw it. Third floor. A storefront with black walls and gold lettering.

VÉLORÉ.

The most exclusive menswear store in the city. Custom suits. Hand-stitched leather. Limited edition everything.

Arthur stepped inside.

The store was enormous. Racks of tailored blazers lined the walls. Shirts folded like origami on glass shelves. Shoes arranged on illuminated pedestals like museum exhibits.

A soft jazz track played from hidden speakers.

Arthur strolled by a rack of fancy cashmere coats, and his eyes widened as he saw the price tag - a whopping eight thousand dollars.

He couldn't resist, and gently ran his fingers over the soft fabric, feeling the luxury of it all. The price was steep, but the quality was undeniable.

Forty million. I need to spend forty million.

He turned the corner toward the fitting rooms.

And stopped.

Clara stood ten feet away.

She had a Chanel shopping bag in her hand, and she was wearing a cream-colored coat that likely cost a small fortune . Her hair was flowing down her back, and her lipstick looked freshly applied.

As she laughed at something, her head tilted back, and her teeth sparkled - it was a really beautiful sight.

Behind Clara, two women were browsing through a rack of silk scarves, their fingers running over the luxurious fabrics.

One of them was Lila, Clara's best friend since their high school days, and the other was a woman Arthur couldn't quite place.

They were both dressed to the nines, adorned in gold jewelry and designer clothing that screamed of wealth and style.

Clara turned.

Her eyes landed on Arthur.

The laughter died.

Her smile vanished like someone flipped a switch.

L

"Good grief," she whispered to the other woman, nudging her discreetly. "Is that really Clara's ex, the one who used to live with her?"

The third woman looked Arthur up and down. His damp jacket. His scuffed shoes. His plastic bag.

Clara's face was a mask, expressionless. She didn't even crack a smile, just kept staring at Arthur with a chilly gaze, her eyes as flat as stone.

"What are you doing here?"