"Oops! The Chicken Boy Is The Billionaire's Son"

Chapter 9: "Who Are You?"

Mrs. Shawn actually took her glasses off. She stared at him, her mouth slightly open, completely caught off guard by the sheer absurdity of the statement.

"I'm sorry, you say what?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet.

"Mr. Zain displayed improper conduct in his classroom this morning," Nathan stated, his voice completely level. "He facilitated the bullying of a student, called me horrible names like 'chicken boy,' and completely degraded the integrity of this college. So, I want him fired. Today."

Mrs. Shawn stared at him in utter silence for a long moment. Then, a look of deep, condescending anger settled over her features. She slapped her glasses down on the desk.

"Hold on," she snapped, leaning forward. "Who exactly told you that a janitor has the guts to walk into my office and dictate to me who I should fire? Are you having a mental breakdown, Walters? Because if you are, the campus clinic is in the west wing. Otherwise, you are entirely out of line."

She reached for her desk phone. "I am calling security right now. You are not only trespassing in my office, but you are also…"

Before her fingers could touch the receiver, her personal cell phone rang.

Not her desk phone. Her private line. The one reserved strictly for family and the top-tier executives of the university's board.

Mrs. Shawn glanced at the caller ID. The color instantly drained from her face. It was Vice President Harper, the second most powerful person at Braxton, right below Principal Epstein.

She held up a finger at Nathan, a harsh glare in her eyes. "Don't move a muscle. You're done."

She picked up the cell phone, her posture immediately straightening, her voice dropping its venom and replacing it with sycophantic sweetness.

"Hello, ma'am," Mrs. Shawn said brightly. "Mrs. Shawn reporting. Is there an issue?"

Nathan sat in the leather chair, watching her. In the quiet of the office, the volume on her phone was just loud enough for him to hear the voice on the other end.

Vice President Harper wasn't just talking. She was screaming.

"Shawn! Are you at your desk?!" the voice shrieked through the speaker, sounding completely frantic.

Mrs. Shawn blinked, startled by the sheer panic in her boss's voice. "Yes, ma'am, I am, but I currently have a disruptive student in my…"

"I don't care if the President of the United States is in your office!" Harper screamed. "Listen to me very carefully. Call Zain. The engineering lecturer. Call him to your office right now and make sure he is fired right away! Immediately! IMMEDIATELY!!"

Mrs. Shawn’s hand began to tremble slightly. She looked at Nathan, her brain struggling to connect what the VP was saying with the boy sitting across from her. It was a coincidence. It had to be a coincidence.

"Ma'am, please, slow down," Mrs. Shawn stammered, trying to maintain her bureaucratic calm. "Fire Mr. Zain? Under what grounds? I can't just terminate a tenured-track professor without a board review, it's against protocol…"

"Screw protocol, Evelyn!" the VP yelled, her voice cracking. "I just got a phone call from Sir Dwayne! Do you hear me?! He bypassed the switchboard and called my private line!"

The name hit Mrs. Shawn like a physical blow to the stomach. Her eyes widened so far they looked like they might pop out of her skull.

"Dwayne?" Mrs. Shawn whispered, the air leaving her lungs. "It's impossible. Dwayne from the... from the Walter Syndicate?"

"Yes!" Harper shrieked. "Stop asking stupid questions. Are you deaf?! The Walter Syndicate! The people who own the banks that hold the mortgage to this entire campus! He said Zain offended the Young Master! I don't know who the hell Zain insulted, but Dwayne said if Zain isn't unemployed and blacklisted from academia in the next five minutes, they will pull their endowment and bankrupt Braxton by Friday! And it will be on my fucking head!!"

Mrs. Shawn felt a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck. "Are... are you sure it is the Dwayne, ma'am?"

"He verified his identity with the board's override codes, you idiot!" the VP flared up, cursing loudly. "My job is on the line! Your job is on the line! You have exactly three minutes to make it happen, Evelyn, or I will fire you myself and throw you out the front gates! DO IT!"

The line went dead with a sharp click.

The office was plunged into a deafening silence.

Mrs. Shawn slowly lowered the phone to the desk. Her hand was shaking so badly the phone rattled against the mahogany wood.

Her heart was hammering against her ribs. The Walter Syndicate. They were a myth in the corporate world—a shadow organization with so much wealth they could buy and sell entire countries. They didn't get involved in campus politics. They didn't care about college lecturers.

‘He said Zain offended the Young Master.’

Slowly, agonizingly, Mrs. Shawn lifted her head. ‘Young Master? Young Master? Who could that be?’

She looked at the boy sitting in her guest chair. The boy in the cheap, faded t-shirt. The boy with the bruised jaw who cleaned their toilets. The boy whose last name... was Walters.

Nathan sat there, completely relaxed, his arm draped casually over the armrest. He didn't look like a student anymore. Looking at his cold, unblinking eyes, she suddenly felt like she was trapped in a cage with a predator.

Mrs. Shawn swallowed hard. Her mouth was completely dry.

"Who..." she whispered, her voice trembling so badly it broke. "Who are you?"