THE HEIR'S REVENGE

chapter 2

Ethan POV

The taxi pulled up to Memorial Hospital, and I threw cash at the driver without waiting for change. My account balance now read $9,999,999,981. Twenty dollars for a taxi ride. These people—whoever they were—wouldn't mind, right?

I rushed through the sliding doors and headed straight for the elevators, ignoring the front desk.

"Excuse me!" A woman's sharp voice stopped me in my tracks. "Where do you think you're going?"

I turned to see three women in expensive clothing standing near the reception desk. They looked me up and down, their faces twisting with disgust.

"I'm here to see someone," I said, already knowing this wasn't going to be easy.

The first woman, tall with perfectly styled hair, stepped forward. "This hospital doesn't treat people like you. Only the wealthy can afford our services. You need to check in before going upstairs."

"I already know the room number. Why would I waste time checking in?"

Her eyes narrowed. "How dare you! What room number?"

"509."

The women exchanged glances, then burst out laughing.

"The hospital only goes up to room 508!" the first woman said triumphantly. "I knew you were lying! You're here to steal from our patients!"

"Security!" another woman shouted. "Security!"

Two guards appeared within seconds. They grabbed my arms before I could protest.

"Wait—"

"Get him out of here!" the first woman demanded. "He's trying to sneak in and rob people!"

"I'm not a thief!" I struggled against their grip. "I'm here to meet someone in room 509!"

"What's going on here?"

Everyone froze. A thin man with blond hair that looked suspiciously like a wig approached us. The women's faces lit up.

"Oh, Mr. Gregory!" the first woman said sweetly. "This boy is trying to sneak into the hospital under false pretenses. He claims he's visiting someone in a room that doesn't exist!"

Gregory was the hospital's Chief Operating Officer. I'd heard of him—he ran the place with an iron fist.

"What room?" Gregory asked, looking at me like I was dirt on his shoe.

"Room 509."

His eyes went wide. For just a second, I saw fear flash across his face.

"Are you sure?" he asked slowly.

"Yes."

"Isn't that Mr. Blackwell's room?" Gregory muttered, then his expression hardened. "How dare someone like you claim to be connected to the Blackwell family?!"

Everyone laughed. The Blackwell family. Even I knew that name. The wealthiest family in the country, maybe the world. Old money, new money, and everything in between.

I didn't have time for this. I pulled out my phone and dialed the number that had called me.

They picked up immediately.

"Yes, young master. Are you here?"

"I'm at the front desk, but a man named Gregory won't let me in."

"How dare he?!" The man's voice turned ice cold. "Don't worry. I'll handle everything."

The call ended. Everyone stared at me.

"Do you think your fake phone call will scare me?" Gregory sneered. "What makes you think—"

His phone rang.

Gregory's face went pale as he looked at the caller ID. His hands shook as he answered.

"Hello?"

"HOW DARE YOU?!" The voice on the other end was loud enough for everyone to hear. "How dare you deny entrance to the guest of the Blackwell family?! Are you tired of living?!"

The color drained from Gregory's face. The women took steps back, their mouths hanging open.

"Are you sure it's the right person?" Gregory asked weakly.

"How dare you question me?! If I lose my job over this, you're going to regret it! You'd better let that young man into the ward right now, or else!"

The call ended.

Gregory turned to me and bowed so low I thought his back might snap. "I'm terribly sorry for not recognizing you, sir. Please, let me escort you to the room."

I looked at him with disgust. Minutes ago, he was ready to throw me out. Now he was bowing and scraping because someone important vouched for me.

"No need," I said coldly. "I'll find it myself."

I walked past him toward the elevators. Behind me, I heard Gregory tearing into the women who had called security.

The elevator ride felt like forever. My mind raced with questions. The Blackwell family? Why would they contact me? What did I have to do with them?

The doors opened on the fifth floor. I followed the hallway until I found it—a door marked 509.

It was slightly open. Through the gap, I could see a window but not the hospital bed.

"You're here."

I looked down. The little girl from earlier—Lily—stood in the doorway, holding a stuffed rabbit with emerald eyes. She'd changed clothes and looked much calmer than before.

"My grandpa wants to see you before he..." She trailed off, her voice breaking. "You have to come in quickly."

I followed her inside.

The first thing I saw was a man in glasses and a formal suit standing beside a hospital bed. In the bed lay an old man, his face pale and drawn, his breathing shallow.

"Hello," I said, not knowing what else to say. "I got a call, and my account was credited with... a lot of money. You said I'm the heir of the Blackwell family. What's going on?"

The man in glasses bowed slightly. "I'm Henry Abbott, the Blackwell family's butler. You'll get your answers soon." He gestured to the old man. "This is Mr. Richard Blackwell, head of the family."

I stepped closer until I could see the old man clearly. He looked like he was holding on to life by a thread.

"Hello, Mr. Blackwell," I said politely.

Richard managed a weak smile. "Ethan..." His voice was barely a whisper. "I've finally found my heir. Welcome home, grandson."

"What?" I turned to Henry. "Why is he calling me his grandson?"

Before Henry could answer, the heart monitor started beeping frantically.

Richard's breathing became labored. His eyes rolled back.

"We need a doctor!" Henry shouted, pressing a button by the bedside. "Now!"

A nurse rushed in, then a doctor. They worked frantically, but I could see it in their faces. It was too late.

Lily clutched her grandfather's hand, tears streaming down her face.

The beeping slowed. Then stopped.

The doctor checked Richard's pulse one last time and shook his head. "I'm sorry. He's gone."

Silence filled the room except for Lily's quiet sobs.

I stood there, frozen. The man who had just called me his grandson—who had somehow given me ten billion dollars—was dead.

Henry closed his eyes and whispered, "Rest in peace, Mr. Blackwell."

I didn't know what to feel. I didn't know this man. But somehow, I'd just lost a grandfather I never knew I had.

"What now?" I whispered.

Henry straightened and turned to me, his expression grave. "Mr. Blackwell made his decision before he passed. You are now the heir to the Blackwell family's legacy, Ethan. Everything he owned now belongs to you."

My legs felt weak. "What does that even mean?"

"It means," Henry said quietly, "that the fortune, the businesses, the responsibilities—it's all yours. You're the head of the Blackwell family now."

I looked down at Lily, who was crying softly, still holding her grandfather's hand.

"And her?" I asked.

"She's your cousin," Henry explained. "Her mother was your mother's younger sister. Both her parents died in a car accident three years ago. As the head of the family, you're now her guardian."

I felt like the room was spinning. Yesterday, I had nothing. Today, I was a billionaire and a guardian to a five-year-old girl.

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

"I know," Henry replied gently. "But we'll help you. You're not alone anymore, Master Ethan."

I knelt down beside Lily and carefully picked her up. She wrapped her arms around my neck and cried into my shoulder.

I didn't know this little girl. I didn't know Richard Blackwell. I didn't know anything about being rich or being someone's guardian.

But I knew what it felt like to be alone and unwanted.

And I wasn't going to let Lily feel that way ever again.