THE RISE OF THE APEX KING

CHAPTER 3

Richard stood at the end of the quiet street and stared across at the small cream-colored house. It was the exact address that the president had given him.

For a moment, he just stood there holding the bouquet of flowers and unsure why he felt nervous. Maybe it was because he knew he was walking into the unknown, something he always approached with caution.

As he stepped closer toward the garden, he noticed a little boy kneeling in the grass, and pushing a toy truck back and forth. The kid was humming, completely lost in his own world. Richard paused as he didn’t want to scare the child.

But then the little boy suddenly looked up and their eyes met.

The boy squinted as if studying him. Then before Richard could turn away or pretend he wasn’t staring, the boy stood, dusted his shorts, and walked straight toward him.

Richard straightened. Something about children always made him alert. Kids were unpredictable in their own innocent way.

The boy stopped in front of him and tilted his head.

“Are you homeless?”

Richard smiled at the bluntness. “What?”

“You look like it,” the boy said. “You’re just standing here. And you look tired. Are you hungry? Mummy says we should help homeless people.”

Richard almost choked on a laugh.

“Do I really look homeless to you?” he asked.

The boy nodded slowly. “A little.”

Richard Carter had spent years doing favors for the most powerful men in the world but nothing stunned him quite like this little boy accusing him of homelessness.

“But I’m not homeless,” Richard said.

The boy frowned, unconvinced. “If you’re not homeless, why are you just standing outside?”

Richard sighed. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh, okay.” The boy brightened instantly. “You can still come inside if you want. I’m Marty.”

He stretched out his hand. Richard hesitated only for a second before shaking it.

“I’m Richard.”

Marty nodded like they had just sealed some important contract. “Come on. If you’re hungry, Mom is making dinner. We have chicken.”

Richard stiffened a little but Marty tugged on his sleeve. “Come with me.”

Richard followed him up the small porch. He was stepping through the doorway when he heard a woman’s voice from inside.

“Marty, who are you talking to out there?” she called.

And then the front door opened.

Richard had seen her picture. The president made sure of that. But the photo didn’t come close to capturing her.

She stood in the doorway wearing a cream blouse and jeans. Her hair was pulled back loosely and there was a smudge of flour on her cheeks like she had been cooking.

For a few seconds, Richard just stared at her.

She looked at him, then at Marty and her face tensed in confusion.

“Marty… who is this?” she asked.

“He’s my friend," Marty proudly announced. "He’s homeless but he’s nice.”

“I am not homeless,” Richard repeated under his breath.

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, homeless people don’t usually walk around with flowers.”

Richard followed her gaze and only then remembered the bouquet in his hand. He looked ridiculous. Standing in someone’s doorway with flowers, no explanation, and being called homeless by a child.

The woman was confused, Marty looked satisfied and Richard felt strangely embarrassed.

“My name is Richard,” he said clearly. “I’m the man who was in a coma for seven years. You paid for my medical bills.”

Her expression changed instantly. Her eyes widened and her lips parted.

“Oh… my God,” she whispered. “You’re… him.”

He nodded. “I came to thank you. I owe you my life.”

For a moment, she simply stared, taking in the reality of his face standing in her home. Then slowly, a warm smile spread across her lips.

“I’m just happy you made a full recovery,” she said. “I'm so happy I could help."

Richard smiled as the realization hit him - she was just another random lady doing good. She was not an enemy after his life.

"But how exactly did you get my house address?" She frowned.

"Well, I have a few connections," Richard shrugged. "And the nurse described you pretty well."

She smiled and stepped aside.

“Well, come in. You’re just in time for dinner.”

Richard nodded and entered the house. Marty ran ahead into the living room while she walked back into the kitchen.

Richard took in the space. It was beautiful with warm lighting. A faint scent of rosemary and garlic drifted from the kitchen.

But what caught his eyes the most was the dining table.

It was buried under stacks of files—open folders, scattered documents, photos laid out without order.

She spotted him staring when she returned with plates.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said with a tired sigh. “Work has been a lot lately.”

He stepped toward the table. “Do you need help around the house?”

She laughed a little at first, thinking it was a joke.

“You want to help me?”

“I’d like to repay you for everything you did,” he said.

She paused, seeing he was serious. Then shook her head.

“It’s really nothing, Richard. I didn’t do it expecting anything back. Come sit.”

They sat down for dinner and all through, Marty chattered endlessly about school and superheroes while Richard listened with a smile.

After dinner, he rose and handed her the flowers.

“These are for you,” he said. “I’m indebted to you.”

She looked at the bouquet, then at him. A blush crept across her face but after a moment, she set the flowers down and sighed.

“There is actually a way you can help me,” she said.

Richard heaved a sigh of relief. Finally! He always liked to repair favors and so, he nodded for her to continue.

“I need a husband.”

He glared at her. “A what?”

She rushed on, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“Just a contract marriage and for a year. I’ll pay you fifty thousand dollars every month.”

Richard stared at her, shocked.

“My family wants me to marry Denzel Washington," She explained, her fingers twisting nervously. "He's the mayor of the city and he sponsors half of their projects. They want continuous access to his connections but I don’t want to marry him. He’s not a good person. Not for me and my son."

She paused for a while before continuing.

“If I’m married even temporarily, they’ll stop forcing him on me.”

Richard struggled to process her words for a while but then he shook his head.

“I'm sorry but I don't think I can,” he said. “I’m just getting over a heartbreak. I don’t think I can pretend to be someone’s husband right now.”

Disappointment washed across her face but she tried to hide it.

“No, of course, I understand. I’m sorry. It was reckless for me to even suggest it.”

She turned away slightly embarrassed and Richard rose to his feet, ready to leave.

But as soon as he moved, a file on the table slipped off the edge.

He caught it mid-air and when his eyes dropped to the open page, he froze.

A photo of a familiar face stared back at him. It was Isabella, his ex, the very woman he thought loved him but left him rotting in a hospital bed.

“Who is this?” Richard asked.

She stepped closer.

“Oh—I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce myself properly earlier.”

She took a breath.

“My name is Michelle Donovan and I’m the CEO of GLAM Modeling Agency. That’s the file of my top model, Isabella.”

Richard closed the file slowly. That was an interesting discovery.

He turned back to Michelle and then, he smiled faintly.

“On second thought, I think I can help you.”

Her eyes widened again. “Wait, you’ll do the contract marriage?”

“Yes," He nodded. "But I don’t want your money.”

Michelle’s mouth opened slightly. “You don’t want the fifty thousand?”

“No.”

“Richard… do you know how much money that is?”

He merely chuckled. If she knew who he really was, she would understand why fifty thousand dollars a month meant nothing to him.

But he wasn't going reveal anything yet.

Michelle nodded slowly, too happy to question his decision further.

“Okay. Then, you should move in soon. We have our first public appearance in a few days. The End of year Gala.”

Richard nodded. “I’ll be here.”

She smiled. “Good. I’ll prepare the guest room for your privacy. Everything you need, I'll provide for you."

He stepped closer than she expected and leaned forward to gently peck her cheek.

She froze and her face turned pink immediately.

“I’ll see you soon, Michelle,” he smiled.

Then he spun around and made his way out.

As he stepped into the night, a slow smile spread across his face.

He never planned revenge on Isabella before.

But fate had just handed him the perfect opportunity on a silver plate. Fate had given him a chance to show everyone that had scorned him exactly who he really was and he wasn’t going to waste that chance.