Dumped on my anniversary, I activated the billionaire system

chapter 8

Julian stepped out of the bespoke tailor shop on Fifth Avenue, adjusting the cuffs of his midnight-blue tuxedo.

The master craftsman had practically bowed when Julian walked out, completely blown away by the ten-thousand-dollar cash tip he’d left on the counter.

Julian didn't care about the clothes, but he knew exactly how these high-society vultures operated.

If you didn't look like you owned the building, they wouldn't even let you in the lobby.

He slid into the driver’s seat of the matte-black Apex GT, the leather wrapping around him like a second skin.

The engine purred to life, a deep, aggressive rumble that vibrated right up his spine.

He tapped the GPS, setting the route for the Reed family estate in the hills, and merged into the evening traffic.

Meanwhile, less than a mile away from the towering iron gates of the Reed Estate, the Sterling family was having a complete meltdown.

The temperature had dropped to near freezing, but Madison, Trent, and Eleanor were standing on the public sidewalk, shivering in their designer coats.

Damien Croft had told them that the Reed family’s annual winter gala was the only place in the city where the real heavy hitters gathered.

If they could just get inside and schmooze the right investors, they could maybe secure a bridge loan to pay off the club’s mortgage and save their reputation. But they didn't have invitations, and the Reed security detail was notoriously ruthless.

"Get the gate open right now, you brain-dead ape!" Trent screamed, slamming his fists against the reinforced glass of the guard booth. "Do you have any idea who I am? I’m Trent Sterling! My family has been members of the Oakridge Country Club for a decade!"

The guard inside didn't even look up from his monitors. He just pressed a button on his desk, and a mechanized voice echoed from the intercom.

"The Sterling family is currently banned from all Reed-affiliated properties. Step back from the gate, or you will be tased."

Eleanor let out a dramatic, shivering gasp, clutching her pearls.

"This is an outrage! We are standing in the freezing cold like common beggars! Madison, call Damien again and tell him to come out here and vouch for us!"

Madison was staring at her phone, her face pale and her eyes red from crying. "He’s not answering. He blocked my number, Mom. He said he was done dealing with our bullshit after we lost his two million dollars."

Before Trent could kick the guard booth again, the deep, guttural roar of a hypercar engine echoed up the hill.

The massive iron gates slowly began to swing inward, and a matte-black Apex GT glided up the driveway, its headlights cutting through the dark.

Trent’s eyes went wide, and he pointed a shaking finger at the car. "That’s him! That’s the fucking car! He stole it with Madison's credit cards! Hey! Hey, you thieving piece of shit!"

Trent literally sprinted into the driveway, waving his arms like a lunatic. The hypercar didn't even slow down, but it stopped just a few feet away from him, blocking his path.

The tinted driver’s side window rolled down with a soft hum, revealing Julian’s calm, unbothered face.

"You're blocking the driveway, Trent," Julian said, his voice smooth and completely devoid of anger. "Move before I run you over. I just had this car detailed."

"You stole this car!" Trent shrieked, his face purple with rage as he leaned in, trying to look intimidating. "You forged those bank documents, you stole Madison's money to buy this, and now you're trying to crash the Reed Gala! Security! Arrest this fucking thief!"

Two massive guards in tactical gear instantly stepped out from the gatehouse, their hands resting on their tasers.

But before they could even approach the car, the front doors of the massive Reed mansion swung open.

Evelyn Reed stepped out onto the grand staircase. She was wearing a stunning, floor-length crimson dress that hugged every curve of her body, her icy blue eyes scanning the driveway until they landed on Julian.

The moment she saw him, the freezing, untouchable CEO actually smiled. It was a small, genuine smile, but it sent a shockwave through the Sterlings standing by the gate.

"Julian, I'm so glad you made it," Evelyn called out, her voice carrying clearly in the cold night air. She walked down the steps, completely ignoring Trent and the rest of the family.

"The board members are already asking about the man who saved my grandfather. Please, come inside. The champagne is waiting."

Julian stepped out of the car, adjusting his tuxedo jacket.

He looked at Evelyn, then casually glanced at Trent, who was standing there with his mouth hanging open in absolute shock.

"Actually, Evelyn, could you do me a quick favor first?" Julian asked, his tone polite but laced with a deadly edge.

"Anything," she replied without hesitation.

Julian pointed a finger at Trent. "These three people have been harassing your security staff and trespassing on your private road. I’d appreciate it if you had them removed. And make sure they’re added to the city-wide private security registry. I don't want them bothering me at any other properties I own."

Evelyn’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of pure, glacial contempt as she finally looked at the Sterlings. "Security. Throw them off the property. If they step foot on Reed land again, break their legs."

The guards didn't hesitate.

They grabbed Trent by the collar and dragged him backward, his shoes scraping against the pavement. Eleanor was screaming, and Madison was just sobbing into her hands as they were literally tossed onto the public sidewalk like garbage.

The heavy iron gates slammed shut right in their faces, locking them out in the freezing cold.

Julian watched them for a second, a cold smirk playing on his lips, before he turned to follow Evelyn inside.

But just as he took a step toward the mansion, a sleek, armored SUV pulled up behind his hypercar, and the door flew open.

Damien Croft stepped out, but he wasn't alone. Flanking him were two massive, scarred men in cheap suits who moved with the heavy, deliberate steps of trained killers.

"You put on a nice show, Cross," Damien said, his voice dripping with venom as he adjusted his cuffs. "But buying a country club and playing doctor doesn't make you a player in this city. You just made a very big mistake slapping my girl. My associates from the East Coast are in town, and they don't care about your little bank tricks. By tomorrow morning, you're going to wish you never signed those divorce papers."

Julian stopped walking. He didn't look at the thugs. He just looked at Damien, his eyes completely dead.

"Is that a threat, Damien?" Julian asked softly. "Because I'm about to show you what a real one looks like