She Left When I Was Broke, Regretted When I Was King

CHAPTER 7: Overnight King

Ethan's POV

The hotel suite occupied the entire top floor.

I stood in the entrance, unable to move, unable to process what I was seeing. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city. Lights sparkled below like fallen stars. The living room was larger than my entire apartment. Correction. Larger than the apartment I used to share with two roommates.

"This way, Chairman." Sophia moved through the space like she owned it. Maybe she did. Maybe Zenith Corporation owned the whole building. "Your bedroom is through here. The master suite has a walk-in closet, full bathroom with a soaking tub and rain shower, and a private balcony."

I followed her, my feet sinking into carpet so plush it felt like walking on clouds. Everything was white and gold. Clean. Expensive. Untouched.

The bedroom could have fit three king-sized beds. It had one, positioned in the center, with silk sheets that probably cost more than my monthly Walmart salary.

"I can't stay here," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because." I gestured vaguely. "This is too much. This isn't me."

"It is now." Sophia checked her watch. "The team will arrive in fifteen minutes. I suggest you shower and change into the robe in the bathroom. They'll need access to examine you properly."

"What team?"

"Medical team. You have injuries that need treatment." Her eyes flicked to my hands, my face. "Your knuckles are split. You have bruises on your ribs from where you hit the floor earlier. And according to my preliminary assessment, you're malnourished and exhausted."

"I'm fine."

"You're not." Her tone left no room for argument. "Chairman Sterling, your health is now a corporate priority. Zenith Corporation has over thirty thousand employees whose livelihoods depend on stable leadership. I cannot allow you to collapse from neglect."

The words settled over me like a weight. Thirty thousand employees. Thirty thousand people I was now responsible for.

"I don't know how to run a corporation," I said quietly.

"You'll learn." Sophia moved to the door. "But first, you need to heal. Physically and otherwise. Now shower. Please."

She left before I could protest.

The bathroom was ridiculous. Marble everything. A tub big enough for three people. The shower had seven different nozzle settings and a control panel that looked like it belonged on a spaceship.

I stripped off my clothes. The same jeans I'd worn for three days straight. The shirt with a small stain on the collar from yesterday's lunch. My underwear with a hole near the waistband I'd been meaning to replace for six months.

The mirror showed me what Sophia had seen. Bruises darkening on my ribs. Split knuckles. Hollow cheeks. Dark circles under my eyes that looked like bruises themselves. I'd lost weight. More than I'd realized. My ribs were visible. My collarbones jutted out sharply.

When had I gotten so thin?

The shower's hot water felt like heaven. I stood under it for ten minutes, watching dirt and exhaustion swirl down the drain. Hotel soap that smelled like sandalwood. Shampoo that actually lathered instead of the dollar store stuff that barely worked. Clean towels so soft they felt unreal.

I put on the robe. White. Thick. Probably Egyptian cotton or whatever rich people used.

Voices came from the living room when I emerged.

Six people had arrived. Three women, three men. All wearing professional attire. All carrying equipment cases.

"Chairman Sterling." A woman in her forties approached, extending her hand. "I'm Dr. Rebecca Walsh. I'll be conducting your medical evaluation tonight."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Ms. Vale was quite insistent." Dr. Walsh smiled. "And from what I can see, she was right to be concerned. Please, sit."

She gestured to the couch. I sat.

For the next hour, I was poked, prodded, and examined. Blood pressure. Heart rate. Blood samples. X-rays of my hands and ribs using a portable machine they'd brought. Questions about my medical history, my diet, my sleep patterns.

"Mild malnutrition," Dr. Walsh announced finally. "Nothing critical, but you need proper meals. Three times a day, minimum. No skipping. I'm prescribing supplements and I want to see you again in two weeks."

"Okay."

"The bruising will heal on its own. Your knuckles need bandaging. And you need sleep. Real sleep. Eight hours minimum."

She handed me bottles of pills. Vitamins. Supplements. Instructions written in neat handwriting.

While Dr. Walsh packed up, the others moved in.

"I'm Marcus Chen, legal counsel for Zenith Corporation." A man in his thirties opened a briefcase. "I have documents for you to review and sign. Nothing binding tonight. Just acknowledgments of your position and preliminary agreements regarding corporate governance."

Papers appeared. Thick stacks of them. Words like "fiduciary duty" and "shareholder rights" and "board authority" swam before my eyes.

"I don't understand any of this," I admitted.

"You will." Marcus smiled. "We'll schedule daily meetings to bring you up to speed. For now, just sign where I've marked. These simply confirm your identity and your right to claim the shares."

I signed. My hand, freshly bandaged, made the signatures look shaky.

"Excellent." Marcus collected the papers. "Welcome to Zenith Corporation, Chairman Sterling."

The stylists came next. Two women who introduced themselves as Sophie and Valentina. They circled me like sharks, discussing my hair, my skin, my "overall presentation" like I wasn't there.

"We'll start tomorrow," Sophie said. "Full makeover. Hair, wardrobe, everything. Tonight, just sleep."

"I look that bad?"

"You look exhausted, darling." Valentina touched my shoulder gently. "But don't worry. We'll have you camera-ready in no time."

"Camera-ready?"

"For when you make your public debut," Sophia said from the doorway. I hadn't heard her return. "But that won't be for a while yet."

The team filtered out one by one, leaving equipment, instructions, business cards. Finally, only Sophia remained.

She stood by the windows, looking out at the city below.

"Your grandfather wanted to come tonight," she said without turning. "I convinced him to wait until tomorrow. You need rest, not emotional reunions."

"What's he like?" The question came out smaller than I intended.

"Brilliant. Ruthless when necessary. Kind when it matters." She turned to face me. "He built Zenith Corporation from nothing. Turned it into one of the most powerful financial institutions in the country. But he lost everything that mattered when your parents died and you disappeared."

"How did they die?"

"Car accident. Twenty-three years ago. Your father was driving home from a business dinner. Your mother was with him. A truck ran a red light." Her voice stayed level, but something flickered in her eyes. "They died instantly. You were home with a nanny. She was found unconscious the next morning. You were gone."

"The kidnapper."

"Yes. We believe the accident was staged. That someone arranged it to eliminate your parents and create chaos. In that chaos, taking you was easier."

"Who would do that?"

"We have theories. Your grandfather has enemies. Business rivals. Family members who stood to inherit if you were gone." She moved closer. "That's why we need to be careful now. Why we can't simply announce your return."

"So what do we do?"

"You learn. You train. You grow into your role quietly. Build your strength, your knowledge, your network. And when you're ready, when you're powerful enough that nobody can touch you, then we reveal the truth."

"How long will that take?"

"As long as it needs to." She pulled out her phone, typing quickly. "I'm assigning you a security detail. Three bodyguards, rotating shifts. They'll be discreet, but they're non-negotiable."

"I don't need bodyguards."

"Yes, you do. You're worth twelve billion dollars and you have enemies who've already proven they're willing to kill." Her eyes met mine. "This isn't a request, Chairman."

Chairman. The title still felt wrong. Like clothes that didn't fit.

"Can I ask you something?" I said.

"Of course."

"Why are you doing this? Why do you care?"

Sophia was quiet for a moment. "Your grandfather saved my life once. Fifteen years ago, I was fresh out of business school, drowning in student debt, working three jobs. My mother needed surgery we couldn't afford. Sterling Cross paid for everything. He gave me a job. Mentored me. Made me who I am today." She smiled slightly. "When he asked me to find you, to bring you home, I didn't hesitate. This is me repaying a debt."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Don't thank me yet. The easy part is over. Tomorrow, the real work begins." She moved toward the door. "Get some sleep, Chairman. You'll need it."

She left, closing the door softly behind her.

I stood alone in the massive suite. Alone with silk sheets and marble bathrooms and a view of a city I'd lived in my whole life but never really seen from this height.

My reflection stared back from the windows. Same face. Same eyes. But everything else had changed.

Twenty-four hours ago, I'd been Ethan Cross. Walmart employee. Struggling student. Broke. In love with a woman who was cheating on me.

Now I was Ethan Sterling. Chairman. Billionaire. Heir to an empire I didn't understand.

I moved to the bedroom, sinking onto the mattress. It felt like sleeping on a cloud.

My phone, still in the pocket of my discarded jeans, buzzed.

I considered ignoring it. I considered throwing it away and starting completely fresh. New phone. New number. New everything.

But curiosity won.

I retrieved it, the screen cracked from when I'd dropped it weeks ago. A message notification glowed.

Lena.

My thumb hovered over the screen.

The message was short. Three words.

"Can we talk?”