THE RETURN OF THE TRILLIONAIRE HEIR

Chapter Four

Rico rushed toward her, confusion and panic etched deep across his face. “What’s going on?” he demanded, his voice trembling.

The landlady glared at him, her lips curling in disgust before she spat on the ground near his feet. “You haven’t paid rent for a month,” she snapped. “I’ve warned you over and over, and now someone else has rented the room.”

His stomach dropped. Instinctively, he pulled out his worn wallet—it was empty. Then it hit him. He’d lost the last of his cash earlier, and everything else had gone into Melina’s gift. The truth slammed into him like a punch.

Before he could speak again, footsteps echoed down the hallway. A neighbor strolled past, smirking when they spotted him. “Still here, Rico?” the man said mockingly. “Don’t waste your breath, ma’am—this guy will never pay you a dime. He’s just good at making excuses.”

The words landed like a slap. Rico’s jaw clenched, but he stayed silent, his pride already hanging by a thread. The neighbor chuckled and kept walking, leaving a trail of scorn in his wake.

“Please,” Rico finally said, his voice cracking. “I’ll get the money. Just give me some time.”

She folded her arms. “You had all the time in the world. You’ve got until they finish taking your things out.”

“That’s not enough!” Rico’s voice rose, sharp with disbelief. “How am I supposed to get the money before they toss my stuff in the street? You know I’ve been trying. You know I’m good for it. Just… just give me a day. Even half a day.”

The woman shook her head. “I’ve already given you days. Weeks. You ignored every warning.”

Before Rico could respond, two young men appeared behind her, each carrying a box from his room. One had his old TV, the other a crate of clothes.

“Hey—put that down!” Rico lunged toward them, but one of the men shoved him lightly in the chest, keeping him back.

“Sorry, man,” the guy said with a smirk that wasn’t sorry at all. “We’re just doing our job.”

Rico’s fists curled, but he forced himself to step back. Losing his temper would only make things worse.

“I didn’t ignore them,” he shot back to the landlady, desperation cutting into every word. “I just… I had other things to take care of. Things that matter.”

She laughed bitterly. “Things that matter? Clearly not the roof over your head.”

From another doorway, an elderly woman leaned out and shook her head. “Always chasing women and dreams instead of paying your bills,” she muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear. “This day was bound to come.”

Heat burned in Rico’s chest, a mixture of shame and anger. He stepped closer to the landlady, hands clasped like he was praying. “I’ll pay it all—rent, late fees, everything. Just don’t throw my stuff out. You know I have nowhere else to go.”

Her eyes hardened. “Then you better give me the money now, because I’m changing the lock the moment your things are out.”

Rico’s gut twisted. Regret gnawed at him—he had spent everything on Melina, and now it was all for nothing. Rage burned under his skin at the thought of that money, wasted and stolen from his future.

“Look,” he said quickly, puling out his phone, holding it up like a last hope. “I can leave this with you. My phone, my helmet—anything. Just give me until tonight.”

The landlady’s eyes flicked to the battered device, then back to his face. She sneered, “Not interested. What can I do with this broken ticketing phone? It’s barely worth scrap. You think I’m running a charity here?”

Rico’s hands trembled as he lowered the phone. “It’s all I have left. I just need more time—”

She cut him off, voice icy. “Time’s up, Rico. You’ve wasted enough already. You should’ve thought about that before blowing all your money on " other important things”

A bitter laugh escaped him, but he swallowed it down. “I made mistakes, yeah. But this is my home. If you kick me out, I’ve got nowhere to go.”

Her gaze hardened. “That’s not my problem. You signed the lease. You broke the terms. You’ve run out of chances.”

Rico clenched his fists, the weight of the situation crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

He paced in front of her, muttering under his breath, the ticking clock in his mind pounding louder with every second. Then it hit him—the gift. That stupid, expensive gift. She didn’t need it anymore, not after what she had done.

He could get the deposit back and use it for the rent.

He stopped pacing and locked eyes with the landlady. “Give me one hour. Just one hour, and I’ll bring you the rent.”

She scoffed. “You have no time left. And how are you going to get in one hour what you couldn’t get in a month?”

Rico took a step closer, his voice trembling but certain. “Please. I know where to get it. I’ll go right now and come straight back.”

The woman studied him, arms crossed, before letting out a sharp sigh. “Fine. One hour. Not a minute more.”

Without another word, Rico bolted toward the stairs. He nearly collided with one of the movers coming up with another box. His hands caught the railing to keep from falling, and then he took the steps two at a time.

Outside, he jumped on his bike, the engine roaring to life. He swerved hard into the street, barely avoiding a taxi as the driver laid on the horn. None of it mattered. He had forty-nine minutes to save his home.

Minutes later, he skidded to a stop outside the luxury store where he’d bought Melina’s gift on a payment plan. The glass doors slid open, cold air hitting his face.

Inside, the staff’s eyes swept over his worn clothes and messy hair. Their polished smiles faltered, replaced by thinly veiled contempt.

A saleswoman stepped forward, her voice sharp beneath fake politeness. “Can I help you?”