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

Chapter 6.

"Where's your money now, huh?"

Julian towered over the broken phone, his chest rising and falling heavily, the glass shards crunching beneath his foot.

A wide grin spread across his face as he threw his arms out to the sides.

His confidence was now rising and his determination to humiliate Arthur was shining like the bright sun in the sky with no clouds in sight to diminish its glory.

"No phone, no tricks, no magic," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're just a guy in a wet jacket now." He cocked his head to one side, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Just a beggar, relying on the charity of others."

He relished each and every insult that he was unleashing upon the young bloke because this was his time to paint him in a negative light.

The word was laced with disdain, and Julian's smile grew even wider as he savored the moment.

This was all he had been preparing for all this while and he finally got what he was searching for a perfect weapon to completely annihilate and humiliate him once and for all.

Arthur just stood there, not saying a word. His eyes were fixed on the empty space where the blue screen had been.

Arthur was now confused his mind seeking answers but finding none.

Now, there was nothing. Just a blank space. The only sound was the gentle hum of the store's music system, filling the air with a soft, steady noise.

The environment seemed to sit still and nothing seemed to change as everything maintained it's current state.

Julian stepped closer. Lowered his voice. Almost conversational.

"You know what I'd do if I were in your shoes?" He glanced at his Patek Philippe watch. "I'd go check on my mom."

Arthur's head snapped up. A gradual but sudden realization hit him like a powerful lightening bolt snapping him out of the daze of confusion that he'd previously found himself in.

"What?"

Julian's face broke into a slow, wide smile, but it was the kind that didn't quite make it to his eyes.

"You won't find her in Room 412 anymore, friend," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back on his heels.

"Hospitals can be pretty tricky places - so many doors, so many hallways. It's surprisingly easy for someone to, you know, vanish into thin air."

Arthur felt a chill run down his spine. "What have you done?"

Arthur felt a swirl of emotions these emotions brought back memories of his mother and all the effort he'd put in to save her life.

Julian looked at me with a fake shocked expression, his hand on his chest.

"Who, me?" he said, pretending to be offended. "I didn't do a thing. But there were some guys, big guys, no one I know, and they went into Room 412 about twenty minutes ago. They took your mom out through the back door, really quietly and carefully."

He just shrugged his shoulders. "And nobody even saw them."

Arthur grabbed Julian by the collar. " Where is she?"

Julian didn't bat an eye, he just gazed down at Arthur's hands gripping his shirt, and then he burst out laughing.

"Listen up," he said, his tone icy and detached. "The situation is simple: you need to come up with fifty million dollars in just six hours. If you do, she'll be back in her hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines and all the emotional drama that comes with it. But if you don't..."

He paused, a cold smile spreading across his face. "Let's just say your mom isn't exactly in the best of health. Stress isn't good for her heart, and I'm sure you can imagine what might happen if things don't go according to plan."

His head tilted slightly, his eyes glinting with a menacing intensity. "So, what's it going to be?"

"You're insane."

Julian was feeling pumped up. He gently removed Arthur's fingers from his collar, one at a time.

Julian felt that he'd won he has succeeded in putting Arthur in a Catch - 22 situation one that he'd have to go through whatsoever obstacles that would face him.

"You've got six hours, and the clock is ticking," he said, taking a step back and stretching out his arms. Then, with a sly grin, he added, "Oh, and Arthur? I hope you have a totally awful day."

He laughed.

Then turned around and walked away, the sound of glass shattering beneath his feet with each step he took.

Arthur stood frozen for one second.

Then he ran.

He hit the street at full sprint. Shoulders slamming into pedestrians. Shoes slapping wet pavement. The mall behind him. The hospital ahead. Four hundred meters. He covered them in under two minutes.

The doors. The elevator. Fourth floor.

Room 412.

He burst through the door.

Empty.

The bed had been stripped bare, its sheets pulled back and tossed aside. The heart monitor, once a steady presence, now lay dark and still.

The IV stand, too, stood empty, a lone drop of saline clinging to the end of the tube like a tiny, translucent tear.

Gone.

Arthur grabbed the railing. His knuckles went white. His breath came in short, ragged gasps.

"Mom." His voice cracked. " Mom."

A nurse burst into the room, out of breath. "Excuse me, sir! You're not supposed to be in here—"

"Where's Eleanor Vance?" Arthur demanded, spinning around to face her, his eyes searching for answers.

The nurse swallowed. Looked at the empty bed. Looked at the floor.

"About twenty minutes ago, two men showed up. They claimed they were here to move her to a different facility, and they had some papers with them. I assumed—"

"They lied." Arthur's voice broke. " They lied."

He backed out of the room. Turned and Ran.

He rushed to the reception, then sprinted to the parking lot, and finally dashed out onto the street.

No phone. No system. No money.

Just him. And six hours.

Meanwhile

A sleek black Mercedes came to a stop by the curb, right outside a trendy rooftop restaurant.

The door swung open, and out stepped Clara, looking stunning in her cream-colored coat, her heels making a sharp clicking sound as they hit the pavement.

She just stood there, frozen in place, her eyes fixed on the building in front of her. For a moment, she didn't move, didn't blink, just kept staring.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Lila.

What's going on with Julian, did he really take that old lady? Is everything alright with you, that sounds pretty shocking?

Clara stared at the message. Her thumb hovered over the screen.

She thought of Eleanor Vance. The woman who had sold her jewelry to fund Clara's startup.

Clara swallowed. Put the phone away. Walked inside.

Julian was already there. Sprawled on a leather booth, a bottle of champagne open in front of him. Two glasses filled. Music playing. Candles lit.

He looked up. Smiled.

"Here she comes," he said with a smile, tapping the empty seat beside him. "Take a seat, we've got something to celebrate."

Clara didn't take a seat. Instead, she stood facing him, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

"You kidnapped his mother, Julian."

Julian poured champagne. Didn't look up. " I relocated a patient. Semantics."

"She's a sick old woman."

Julian put the bottle down, his eyes locking onto hers with a blank stare.

"You're using her," he said, his voice low and even.

He looked at her like he was searching for something, but his expression was empty.

"And you're losing your edge, Clara," he added, his words slow and deliberate, like he was savoring a bad taste. "I can see it in the way you're sitting there, that little furrow between your eyebrows. You're feeling something for him, aren't you?"

He paused, his gaze piercing. "Pity, maybe. Or maybe it's something more."

Clara's jaw tightened. " Don't tell me what I'm feeling."

Julian leaned forward. His smile vanished.

"Listen up," he said, his voice taking on a menacing tone. "I've invested five million dollars in your company, and I can withdraw it all - every last penny - by tomorrow morning."

He paused, his head cocked to one side.

"If I do, your business will go belly up, your employees will be out of a job, and your reputation will be left in tatters. All because you suddenly developed a conscience over some guy who used to do your mother's laundry."

Clara went still. She couldn't deny Julian's claims as he heart thumped within her and her eyes stood completely still.

Julian reached for his glass of champagne, gave it a gentle swirl, and then broke into a smile once more.

He kept up the smile because he knew that deep within him that he was sure that something was going to happen. Something that'll turn out to be in his favour.

"So here's what's going to happen. You're going to sit down. You're going to drink this champagne. And we're going to celebrate." He raised the glass. " Because tonight, Arthur Vance loses everything. And we get to watch."

Clara stared at him. Clara was looking in shock and she kept her eyes on him as deep down a tornado of unexplained worry arose within her. She couldn't piece it together but she knew that something was wrong.

Then she sat.

She picked up the glass.

She didn't drink.

The appetite to down the drink's contents were not really within her at the moment as she wasn't in the mood to celebrate at all.

Julian laughed. Clinked his glass against hers.

"To winners."