From Campus Trash To Tycoon

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

The taxi jerked to a halt in front of the Vista Hotel. Out the window, a line of luxury supercars purred under a canopy of brilliant golden light. Adrian stepped out, his worn sneakers hitting the pristine, polished pavement. He gripped his phone tightly. The fifty-million-dollar notification still burned in his mind like a hot coal.

He did not walk five feet before a hand blocked his path.

“Where do you think you're going?” The doorman’s white-gloved hand remained held out like a wall. “Use the back entrance for laundry deliveries, kid."

The man did not even look him in the eye, far too busy opening a door for a customer in a tuxedo.

"I am not a delivery driver," Adrian said. His voice came out calmer than he expected. "I am here to see Chase Goodman."

The doorman finally snapped his head around 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. Let him know Adrian Vale is here,” Adrian countered.

The doorman ignored him, turning back to the customers who actually mattered.

Behind Adrian, a familiar engine roared. A sleek Audi R8 pulled up to the valet line. Lukas stepped out of the driver's seat, his face flushed with alcohol and arrogance. Jason climbed out from the passenger side, his arm wrapped possessively around Mira’s waist. Their loud laughter echoed off the marble pillars until they spotted the figure in the frayed jacket.

“Wait, is that Adrian?” Lukas shouted, his voice dripping with mockery as he leaned against his car. “Still trying to play the big shot? 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. He pulled Mira closer, treating Adrian’s very presence like a physical disease. “Look at him, Mira. He’s like a stray dog following the scent of a steak he will never get to taste.”

Mira looked at Adrian with a mixture of pity and deep annoyance. "Adrian, stop this. It is 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 two-point-eight million tonight. Maybe he’s here to buy the hotel in cash.”

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 is 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 is 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 strict 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 cut through the air like a whip-crack. It came straight from the lobby. A man in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit rushed toward the valet line, his face pale, his forehead beaded with sweat.

The doorman stood straight and smiled, still gripping Adrian’s shoulder. “Mr. Goodman! Good timing, sir. I was just clearing this beggar away so he doesn't offend Mr. Leonardo—”

SMACK!

The sound echoed off the stone pillars. The doorman’s hat flew into the air as he stumbled back, clutching his burning face in shock.

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

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

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

A cold stillness settled inside Adrian's chest. He looked at Lukas, whose jaw hung wide open. He looked at Mira, whose pupils dilated with a sudden, terrifying realization.

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

"Immediately, sir!" Chase snapped his fingers at the guards. "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 inside the twenty-thousand-dollar-a-night suite. The shabby jacket was gone. At Chase’s command, the hotel's private tailor arrived with a midnight-blue Brioni suit. A Patek Philippe watch sat heavy and solid on his wrist. His hair was swept back, revealing the sharp, cold lines of his face.

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

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

Adrian swirled a glass of vintage scotch, a cold smile touching his lips. “Good friends? Then we should treat him well. Chase, go to the bar. Don't stop him. In fact, tell the waiter to bring out the fifty-thousand-dollar Vintage Louis XIII. Tell Lukas it is a gift from the owner to celebrate his prestigious status.”

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

Adrian picked up a gold fountain pen, checking the extension contract for Lukas's father. “It is a gift now,” Adrian said, his eyes flashing with a dangerous calm. “But at midnight, go to their table. Tell them the new owner of the Vista demands full payment immediately. When he cannot pay the bill, do not 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 in his pocket. A text from Mira.

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

“Chase,” Adrian said, deleting the message without replying. “When you kick Lukas and Jason out tonight, make sure Mira stands there to watch them get dragged to the curb. I want her to see exactly what their status looks like when the bank balance hits zero.”

Chase hurried out, signaling the waiters outside.