Chapter 8
Author: Adewale
last update2026-07-31 20:52:04

Mason stood near the large glass window on the top floor of Grandview Medical Center, looking out at the city streets. The headlights of passing traffic formed long lines of white and red across the dark pavement. His body felt heavy, and his mind was completely exhausted from everything that had happened since the afternoon.

In a single day, he had walked away from his old life. He spent three years struggling in a cramped apartment, eating cheap food and saving every dollar he earned, only for Vanessa to dump him for Steve. She had mocked him for being broke, completely unaware that his long-abandoned crypto wallet had cleared two billion dollars. From that moment on, his entire reality had shifted.

He sat down in one of the plush leather armchairs in the executive boardroom and pulled out his new titanium phone. He opened his banking app to review his numbers. Two billion dollars sat in the primary ledger. He had transferred one billion into a high-yield savings account through Martin Sanchez at First National Bank. He had spent four hundred million dollars acquiring the controlling equity stake in Grandview Medical Center's board. He had bought out the corner cafe in cash, and he had purchased a top-tier phone alongside custom bespoke clothing.

As he stared at the financial statements on the screen, his brow furrowed.

"This is getting out of hand," Mason said to himself, rubbing his temples. "I am trying to keep track of hospital board equity, restaurant cash flows, high-yield interest rates, and multi-million dollar asset transfers on a single mobile app."

He leaned back into the chair and sighed deeply.

"I cannot keep doing all this math and these complex calculations by myself," he muttered. "My portfolio is officially strong enough for a major corporate enterprise. I own a high-end networking restaurant and the controlling shares of the top private hospital in the city. I need a proper corporate secretary to handle my schedules, audit these accounts, and manage my daily acquisitions."

He tapped his phone against his knee as he thought about his next step.

"Martin Sanchez ought to know someone qualified," Mason said, closing the banking app. "A branch manager who handles accounts of this size must have a network of top-tier executive assistants. I will give him a call first thing tomorrow morning. But right now, I need sleep."

He opened a ride-hailing app on his phone and requested an executive luxury transport. A minute later, the app confirmed his driver was waiting at the front entrance of the hospital.

Mason took the private elevator down to the lobby and stepped out into the warm night air. Waiting at the curb was a massive, pitch-black luxury SUV with heavy window tint and chrome accents. The driver stepped out immediately, opening the rear door for him.

"Good evening, sir," the driver said politely. "Where are we heading tonight?"

"The Sovereign Hotel downtown," Mason replied as he climbed into the soft leather interior.

"You got it, sir," the driver said, closing the door gently before getting back into the driver's seat.

As the luxury SUV pulled away from the curb and merged into the main avenue, the driver looked at Mason through the rearview mirror.

"Heading to the Sovereign for the big gathering?" the driver asked, making small talk to pass the time in traffic.

"No," Mason said, looking out the tinted window. "I just need a room for the night. Is there something special going on there?"

The driver chuckled softly. "You could say that, sir. The whole downtown district has been talking about it all afternoon. Lady Amelia Sterling booked out almost the entire hotel for a private celebration. She is the biggest figure on the North Side. When people like her throw an event, regular folk cannot even get within fifty feet of the front entrance."

"Is that so?" Mason asked neutrally.

"Oh, absolutely," the driver said, navigating through a busy intersection. "If you do not have top-tier billionaire status or a gold invitation signed by the Sterling family, the staff will turn you away at the door. The North Side elite do not like mixing with average workers or even mid-level rich people."

Mason nodded slowly. "I see. Well, I am just looking for a place to rest my head."

"Good luck getting past the front desk, sir," the driver said with a light smile. "Those hotel receptionists act like gatekeepers to a kingdom."

Ten minutes later, the luxury SUV pulled up the curving drive of the Sovereign Hotel. Towering stone pillars framed the front entrance, holding up a glass canopy illuminated by bright overhead lights. Mason thanked the driver, stepped out onto the driveway, and walked through the sliding glass doors into the main lobby.

The lobby was massive, decorated with white marble floors, high ceilings, and expensive modern art. Soft music played through hidden speakers, and small groups of people in expensive clothing stood near the bar area.

Mason walked toward the main elevator banks, but before he could reach them, a receptionist named Sarah Jenkins stepped out from behind the front desk and blocked his path. She wore a sharp navy blazer, held a tablet against her chest, and looked at him with a strict, icy expression.

"Excuse me, sir," Sarah said, her voice loud and firm. "Where do you think you are going?"

Mason stopped and looked at her. "I am going to check into a room for the night."

Sarah let out a sharp, mocking laugh and shook her head. "I do not think so, sir. The Sovereign Hotel is completely closed to regular guests tonight. We are hosting an exclusive private event for Lady Amelia Sterling. She is the single most powerful billionaire on the North Side, and only approved elite guests are permitted inside the building today."

Mason kept his composure. "I was not aware of the private event. I just finished a long day of work, and I need a standard suite. I am happy to pay whatever your standard night rate is."

"Are you serious right now?" Sarah asked, taking a step closer and looking him up and down. She looked at his crisp tailored suit, but noticed he carried no luggage and had no entourage behind him.

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