Rise of the Lost, Slumdog Billionaire Heir

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Hearing that, the staff lady who had rushed down when she heard the noise smiled. “The worst is going to happen to him today. Foolish boy!”

David's close pal at work, shook his head, feeling pity. “Warned him not to go. Look what he’s doing to himself.”

“But S—-” the security leader wanted to argue.

"I said, drop him down.”

He swallowed hard and nodded.

As David was slowly been taken down as ordered—-

Boom!

The man saw something around his hand.

Two embedded letters.

It was rightly written on David’s left hand. Bold. Clear. Visible to read.

He instinctively staggered backward.

One of the bodyguards caught him immediately.

The customers exchanged glances. Even David was shocked as he stared at the man.

“Are you okay, Sir? Need some water?” one of his men asked, worried and concerned.

Mr. Walter shook his head. "No. I'm fine. No need.”

His bodyguard swallowed hard, nodding even though worry was still etched on his face.

Walter reluctantly walked forward, standing in front of David. "I'm the chairman of this restaurant. Walter Taylor. But I love it when I'm called Walter. Or in short, Walt.”

He paused. " Yours?”

David was reluctant. "I'm David. That's my name.” He refused to mention his surname.

Walter wanted to ask, but he just smiled, letting it slide.

Without another word, he gently took David’s hand, holding it up, staring at the two letters.

They were DT nicely drawn stylishly.

They were like tattoos, but more like a trademark. A symbol. Something more like a trace.

Walter's hand trembled as he held David's hand.

David’s gaze was fixed on the man, puzzled. He couldn't speak. He just stared.

“Where did you get this from?” Walter asked, not glancing at David.

David hesitated. “My parents."

“How do you know?

David swallowed. “My mom told me.”

Faces were contorted with annoyance. Irritation.

"That bastard cleaner stinks! How could he possibly be having a conversation with him and even that closer to him?”

“I'm just wondering. Can't even imagine it."

Everyone was mumbling as to how Mr. Walter was having such a conversation with someone like David—the cleaner.

Their voices weren't audible so Walter didn't hear them. But David saw the expression on their faces.

He simply ignored them.

“Good morning, Mr. Walter," the manager’s voice came out, her breathing shaky as she spotted David. “I’m sorry he is still around.” She feared that perhaps the customers might have told him everything.

She pointed at the security. “Hey, you! Why is he still here? Throw him out!”

“You dare not do such a thing.” Walter cut her short without stealing a glance at her.

“Huh?”

Gasp ruffled.

The manager was totally dumbfounded.

Everyone in the room exchanged glances.

She turned swiftly to one of the staff members and whispered. “What’s happening here?

She shrugged, still stunned and confused."Don't know. He stopped the security from throwing him out. Next, he spotted that useless-inscribed letters around his hand and started asking him questions.” she replied, jealousy evident in her voice.

“Hmm….” the manager let out.

Walter's gaze, still focused on David, asked. This time he looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “Where is your mum if I may ask?”

David’s eyes turned watery, and the tone of his voice filled with emotion. Memories came rushing back. Memories when he was at age six and was having a good time with his mother.

That day he had asked his mother, “Mum, you have been the only one taking care of me. What about Dad? Where’s he?”

His mother had scolded. “Don't mention his name! Been years since he left without telling me his way about. Since then no calls. No text from him. Just know that you have no father.”

That word hit him hard.

Not a week later after that day, his mother kicked the bucket.

He was taken to one of the orphanage homes where he was being looked after.

“Got none. She passed away when I was still a little kid.” Tears rolled down David’s eyes down to his cheeks as he responded.

“And your Dad?”

“Sorry, sir, don’t want to talk about him.”

“But why?"

Silence kicked in.

But after a short while---

“Mum told me he is an evil person," David started, 'he doesn't care about me. He left me to suffer with my mum. No calls. Not even a text from him. He doesn't care. In fact, I don't have a father. I'm a bastard. That's what I am. People called me that. A slumdog. My girlfriend left me because I'm a nobody. Now, I have lost my job. If my dad really cared, he would have really come looking for me.

David paused, taking a deep shaky breath. “I’m just on my own. Alone in the big world to suffer.”

A tear instantly dropped from Mr. Walter’s eyes.

“You don't have to fall for this bastard's deceptive act,” Vivian rushed forward, disrupting the moment. “He wants to trap you. Don’t listen to him. He should be thrown out. He doesn’t belong here. He is just seeking your empathy.”

Walter turned and gave her a deadly look but didn't respond. Vivian shuddered and instinctively moved backward.

Walter faced David and shook his head. “No, he didn't leave him. He actually looked for you.”

David’s eyebrows rose. "What do you mean?"

“I mean, I came looking for you, son.”

Boom!

That word alone “son” sent the whole place into a calm zone.

Silence stormed in. The room became hushed like a graveyard.

Gasp!

David's entire body shook, his mind reeling.

Did this wealthy man just refer to him as his son? This must be the biggest joke ever in the history of comic shows or books.

Haha.

“Son?” David raised an eyebrow. He then let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “No, that can't be. You are joking, right?”

“No, I'm not.” Walter repeated, his expression serious. “You are really my son.” Without another word, he pulled David closer, wrapping his hand around him.

David couldn't move. He just remained stiff, not reciprocating the tight hug.

“Oh, my God! Can't believe I finally found you after a long time.” He pulled back, holding David's hands tightly. “You are my son, David Taylor. Been searching for you for years.”

Both the manager and Vivian exchanged glances, astonished.

“David only mentioned his name to him. How did he know his surname?”

Astonishment rippled.

“That's his full name. H— how was he able to figure it out?” the manager muttered, eyes wide.

David wasn't excluded. He was completely stunned. “That’s my full name. How do you know that? Never mentioned it to you.”

“Thats because I'm your father. Your mother, Marie Taylor was my wife.” Walter claimed.

“And that's my mother's full name. Who are you, really?"

Walter didn't respond. He quickly pulled off his suit, showing David something.

Two letters written on his hand.

“Look here, I have them too. The same letters were written on my hand as well. Can't you see? I did it as a symbol of love after I couldn't find you again. Come have a look."