From Campus Trash To Tycoon

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The gold flashing alert on the manager’s terminal split the quiet of the showroom. Especia, the senior salesgirl who had mocked Adrian moments earlier, stood frozen mid-smile. Her eyes dropped to the terminal screen, then to the sleek black card sitting on the glass counter. Her professional smile twitched, collapsing entirely. The scholarship beggar was a tycoon in disguise.

Jason didn't buy the display for a second. He forced an arrogant chuckle, trying to hide the fact that his own personal account couldn't handle that kind of price tag. “Haha, do you honestly think I will cower because of a fake piece of plastic? Go on, debit it. Let's see if it doesn't get declined immediately. I’ll save your face by buying the piece myself after it fails.”

The junior salesgirl reached for the black card with unsteady fingers, hurrying toward the register. “One moment,” she said, her voice shaking. “I will process the transaction.”

Jason leaned back against a display case, folding his arms across his chest. His expression shifted to smug anticipation. “Let us see how this goes.”

Mira stared at the terminal, her lips parted in a thin, desperate line. Her eyes flicked from the black card to Adrian. “You are joking,” she muttered, a sharp edge entering her voice. “This is some kind of joke.”

Adrian said nothing. He simply stood with his arms relaxed, watching the visual panic unfold.

The junior salesgirl returned with the wireless machine, her eyes darting to Mira and Jason.

“Please, sir,” she whispered.

Jason stepped closer to the counter, his chest puffing out. Mira followed right on his heels, her manicured nails digging into Jason’s designer sleeve. “Go on,” Jason taunted. “Let us watch the show.”

Adrian picked up the card calmly and slid it into the reader. He typed four digits without a fraction of hesitation—his birth year.

The machine processed for a fraction of a second. A sharp, mechanical beep sliced through the silence.

BEEP!

The screen flashed a brilliant green.

APPROVED.

For a full second, no one in the store breathed. Then the internal printer buzzed, the paper receipt trailing out with a sound that felt deafening in the dead silence.

Mira let out a sharp, brittle laugh that cracked halfway through her throat. “That is impossible. That's a glitch.”

Jason’s arrogant smile vanished. “Run the card again. The system made an error.”

The junior salesgirl stared at the printed receipt, then back at the glowing screen. Every single trace of color drained from her face. “It went through,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Mira’s fragile composure shattered into absolute rage. “You think you can humiliate us like this?” she snapped, her voice rising to a shrill scream. “You stole that card, Adrian! Are you so pathetic and jealous of my relationship with Jason that you have to resort to grand larceny? There is zero chance that thing belongs to a beggar like you!”

Jason nodded rapidly, his knuckles turning white. “Exactly. He picked it up off the street. Or he stole it from a real client. Security!”

Adrian withdrew his card, slipped it back into his pocket, and reached for the velvet box containing Lina's necklace. He turned toward the exit.

“Stop him!” Mira shouted, turning to the security guard standing near the entrance. “Will you let a thief walk out of your store with millions of dollars worth of luxury jewelry? If word gets out that this establishment entertains stolen cards, your reputation is finished!”

The junior salesgirl stepped forward cautiously, her hands raised in a pleading gesture. “Sir... please, you cannot leave just yet.”

Adrian stopped his stride, his face perfectly neutral. “Do you think I stole the card too?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, her voice shaking violently as she glanced at the senior staff. “If this is anything similar to fraud, I could lose my job. I could be arrested as an accomplice.”

Especia stepped in quickly, her face twisting into a triumphant sneer. “I told you. You should have known better than to trust a charity case. He doesn't belong in this district.”

Jason smirked, pulling out his phone. “Call the police, Especia. Have this trash thrown in a cell.”

Mira nodded eagerly, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Yes! Send him to jail where he belongs.”

The word echoed off the marble walls. Jail.

Adrian felt a sharp prickle of irritation hit his chest, but his expression remained as cold as steel. “This is completely unnecessary. Verify the transaction with the tier-one automated service.”

Jason scoffed, crossing his arms. “Verify it with whom? Your imaginary private banker?”

The heavy double doors of the back office burst open as the store manager emerged, drawn out by the shouting. “What is going on here?” he demanded, his eyes sweeping the chaotic showroom.

Jason turned immediately, stepping into the manager’s path with the authority of his billionaire name. “This scholarship rat stole a black sovereign card and just tried to use it to commit millions of dollars in fraud. Your staff processed it anyway.”

“That is a lie,” the younger salesgirl said quietly from behind the counter. “We just need to verify the account metadata. I think it’s a misunderstanding.”

The manager looked between the angry heirs and the quiet student, his gaze landing on Adrian’s wrinkled clothes. “Sir,” the manager said, choosing his words with immense caution. “Is this card under your legal name?”

“Yes,” Adrian replied.

Jason laughed loudly, tossing his head back. “Do you hear him? The thief is an arrogant fool.”

The manager bypassed Jason entirely, stepping to the register to tear off the printed receipt. His eyes narrowed slightly as he read the encryption string at the bottom. “The digital transaction is perfectly valid.”

Jason’s face darkened into a furious purple. “That does not prove ownership, Manager! Anyone can use a stolen card if they beat the PIN out of the owner. How could a scholarship beggar make a multi-million dollar transaction on a normal afternoon? Anyone can swipe a stolen asset.”

The manager hesitated, the heavy pressure of the Whitmore Conglomerate name tightening his shoulders. “For strict protocol,” he said slowly, turning to Adrian. “We will need to verify your physical identity documents.”

Jason’s smirk returned instantly. He waved his hand toward the security guards. “Good. Close the automated exit gates so the rat doesn't try to bolt away.”

Adrian met the manager’s nervous gaze without a single trace of fear. “Do what you need to do.”

The manager nodded quickly, lifting his internal phone and pressing it to his ear to contact the bank's executive verification hotline.

Jason leaned back against the counter, lowering his voice so only Adrian could hear him. “You should have stayed invisible, trash. Now when you get arrested for bank theft, the university will revoke your scholarship by morning and throw you straight back to the gutters. Don't forget to tell the hotline he's a thief, Manager! My father, Robert Whitmore of the Whitmore Conglomerate, sits as an executive board member at the Central Bank. If you let this criminal walk out those doors, I’ll have my father strip your position before dinner.”

The manager didn't reply. His face went entirely bloodless as a voice on the other end of the line began shouting commands that sounded like a thunderclap through the receiver.

The manager’s hand shook so violently he almost dropped the phone. It dangled by the cord for a terrifying second, the volume from the speaker leaking straight into the dead silence of the showroom as a jagged stream of frantic, terrified commands.

"What did they say?" Jason demanded, his smug smirk finally wavering as he noticed the manager’s terror. "Did they confirm he's a fraud?"