From Campus Trash To Tycoon

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

 The taxi stopped in front of the Vista Hotel. Luxury supercars lined the entrance, their engines humming softly under the brilliant golden light.

 Adrian stepped out, his worn sneakers hitting the pristine pavement. He gripped his phone tightly as the $50 million notification was still burning in his mind like a hot coal.

 He hadn't walked five feet before a hand blocked his path.

 “Where do you think you're going? “The back entrance is for waste disposal and laundry deliveries, kid," the doorman said. 

His white-gloved hand remained held out like a wall. He didn't even look Adrian in the eye, he was too busy opening a door for a man in a tuxedo.

 "I'm not a delivery driver," Adrian said, his voice calmer than he expected. "I’m here to see Chase Goodman."

 The doorman finally looked at him and sneered. "The General Manager? You think a man who manages the portfolios of oil tycoons has time to meet a student in a thrift-store jacket? Move along before I have security sweep you off the curb like the rest of the trash.”

 “I have a meeting with him. At least let him know Adrian Vale is here,” Adrian countered.

 The doorman ignored him, turning to attend to the customers who actually mattered in his eyes. 

Behind Adrian, a familiar engine roared. A sleek Audi R8 pulled up, and Lukas stepped out, flushed with alcohol and arrogance.

 Jason stepped out from the passenger side, his arm wrapped possessively around Mira’s waist. They were laughing until they spotted the figure in the frayed jacket.

“Wait, is that Adrian?”Likas shouted, his voice dripping with mockery. “Still trying to play the big shot?” Lukas laughed, leaning against his car. “I thought you’d be back at the dorm eating expired noodles. Do you even know where you are? One cocktail in that lobby costs more than your semester’s tuition.”

“Did you follow us here, beggar?” Jason asked, pulling Mira closer as if Adrian’s presence were a literal disease. “Look at him, Mira. He’s like a stray dog following the scent of a steak he’ll never get to taste.”

Mira looked at Adrian with a mixture of pity and deep annoyance. "Adrian, stop this. It’s embarrassing for everyone. You already made a fool of yourself with that counterfeit necklace at the party. You think showing up at the Vista is going to change anything? You don't belong here. You don't even belong on the same street as this hotel."

 Jason smirked, nodding to the doorman. “Hey, watch out. This guy is a big spender. He bought a necklace for 2.8 million tonight. Maybe he’s here to buy the hotel with Monopoly money?”

The doorman chuckled, his eyes turning cold. “Is that so? A billionaire, huh? Well, since he’s so wealthy, I won’t hesitate to call security to give him a private escort to the gutter. It’s good for his ego.”

Jason’s grin widened, his hand squeezing Mira’s waist. "I told you, Mira. Some people just don't know when to stay in their lane. Hey, doorman! Why is this beggar still breathing the same air as my girl? It’s starting to smell like poverty out here."

"Don't worry, Mr. Leonardo, Mr. Jason," the doorman sneered. "I'll handle this nuisance. We have a policy against visual pollution at the entrance."

 "Wait—" Adrian started, but the doorman grabbed his shoulder roughly.

"I said, move!" the doorman hissed. "Why are you being so stubborn? Do you want to leave here in an ambulance or a police car? Choose fast."

Lukas leaned against his Audi, lighting a cigarette. “Go ahead, doorman. Throw him out.”

“Take your filthy hands off him!”

 The voice was like a whip-crack. It didn't come from the students. It came from the lobby.

 A man in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit rushed toward them. His face was pale, his forehead beaded with sweat despite the air conditioning. It was Chase Goodman.

 The doorman stood straight and smiled, still gripping Adrian. 

“Mr. Goodman! Good timing, sir. I was just clearing this beggar away so he doesn't offend Mr. Leonardo—”

 SLAP!

 The sound echoed off the marble pillars. The doorman’s hat flew off as he stumbled back, clutching his face.

“You... you blind dog! Do you have any idea who you are touching?" Chase shouted, his voice shaking with fear and anger.

 Before the stunned eyes of Lukas, Jason, Mira, and the entire valet line, Chase Goodman—the most powerful hotelier in the city—turned to Adrian and bowed a perfect ninety degrees.

 "Young Master Vale," Chase gasped, his voice carrying across the silent driveway. "Your sister told me you were coming. Please... forgive this blind fool. The Presidential Suite has been sanitized and prepared for your exclusive use."

 Adrian felt cold inside. He looked at Lukas, whose jaw was hanging open. He looked at Mira, whose eyes were wide with fear as she suddenly realized.

 "It’s fine, Chase," Adrian said, stepping past them without a second glance. "But the lobby is a bit... crowded. Let’s go up."

 "Immediately, sir!" Chase snapped his fingers. "Clear the private elevator! No one moves until Mr. Vale is settled!"

 Twenty minutes later, Adrian stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror in the $20,000-a-night suite.

 He was no longer wearing the shabby jacket.

 At Chase’s command, the hotel's private tailor had arrived with a midnight-blue Brioni suit. A Patek Philippe watch, worth more than Lukas’s car, sat heavy on his wrist. His hair had been swept back, revealing the sharp, cold lines of a face that had been hidden for too long.

 A knock came at the door. Chase entered, carrying a leather-bound folder.

“Lukas is at the bar, sir,” Chase whispered. “He’s trying to save face. He’s ordered three bottles of Dom Pérignon on his father’s corporate tab. He told the waiter he’s good friends with the owner.”

Adrian swirled a glass of vintage scotch, a cold, predatory smile touching his lips.

“Good friends?” Adrian laughed softly. “Then we should treat him well. Chase, go to the bar. Don't stop him. In fact, tell the waiter to bring out the $50,000 Vintage Louis XIII. Tell Lukas it’s a gift from the owner to celebrate his prestigious status.”

Chase paused looking confused. “A gift, sir? But his father is already $4 million in debt to us.”

Adrian picked up a gold fountain pen. He looked at the extension contract for Lukas's father.

“Why the look is that not what they planned initially? It’s a gift now,” Adrian said, his eyes flashing with the cruelty of a man who had been pushed too far. “But at midnight, go to their table. Tell them the new owner of the Vista has demanded full payment. When he can’t pay the bill, don’t call the police. Call his father. Tell his father that his son just spent the company’s last remaining liquid assets on a single night of drinking. I want to see how Lukas tastes the champagne when he realizes he is drinking to his father’s ruin.”

 As Chase turned to leave, Adrian’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Mira.

 “Adrian, I’m so sorry about earlier. Lukas and Jason were being jerks. I’m at the bar... can we talk privately? I think I made a mistake.”

“Chase,” Adrian said. “When you kick Lukas and Jason out tonight, make sure Mira is standing there to watch them get dragged to the street. I want her to see exactly what their status looks like when the bank balance hits zero.”

 Adrian deleted the message without replying and Chase hurried out signaling the waiters outside.