THE SECRET BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 6: Carl Arrived

Carl walked into one of the most famous jewelry stores in the city to get Elira's favorite jewelry.

He still remembered with clarity before he went to the prison, Elira scrolling online jewelry app store, staring at the Midnight Sapphire necklace with need, but the expensive cost often made her look away.

Carl couldn't afford it then.

Walking up to her after several years with the necklace would make her happy.

Immediately he pushed the door and stepped into Van cliff jewelry store, the scene before him stopped him. People clustered around something on the floor, the air buzzed with murmurs; some planted their head over their head sadly, while some people pulled out their phone, recording whatever stirred the spectacle at the centre.

"What is going on here?" Carl muttered, stepping forward.

He pushed through the small crowd. At the center, lying on the cold marble was a mature man wearing an expensive white suit, gasping for life that was slipping away fast.

He coughed blood, splashing on his suit. No one stepped forward to help him.

Carl narrowed his eyes on the man. He immediately knew what was wrong. This man's heart was working wrongly, his vein wasn't taking blood to the right path, it was filling his breathing pipes with blood instead.

"This man will die in 3 minutes." He said in his mind. "But he can still make it."

He turned to the nearest person, a woman shaking with hand over her head.

“How long will it take to get to the nearest hospital here?" He asked.

“St. Huxley Healthcare. It'll take not less than 20 minutes.” The woman responded.

“It'll be too late.” Carl muttered.

"Did you just say something?" She raised a brow.

"That man is about to die." Immediately Carl finished, ambulance wailed outside, paramedics poured in. Carl had already moved.

“Fall back!” One man in Black suit, probably the man's bodyguard yelled, his hand resting on his waist for his weapon.

Carl stopped but he didn't move away.

“That man is going to die." He said flatly, the nearest people gasped in shock, murmuring in confusion.

"How did he know?"

"Is he a seer?"

"Or is he mad?"

Carl held the Bodyguard's gaze firmly.

"If you want to save your master, walk out of the way right now.

The bodyguard stared at him intently. His grip slowly lost grip on his weapon, hesitating.

"Who are you?"

"Wrong question. Just get out of the way." Carl retorted fast, almost rudely.

The bodyguard stepped aside.

Carl crouched beside the man.

What happened next was surprising.

Carl's finger jabbed the man's chest thrice with precision on his acupoints. The first finger at the jabbed on the main vein with clinical precision, the second jabbed on the left chest, correcting the erratic heart rate, and lastly to the pipe filled with blood that was supposed to be carried by the vein.

The man convulsed violently. His head jerked up, spurting a mouthful of blood, splattering it against the marble.

The crowd drew back. Paramedics stared with eyes wide with mix of shock and confusion and Disbelief.

They had never seen something like this before. No injection, no medical fluid but this man had simply used his finger to rescue a man who was near death just a second ago.

The man sat up with Carl's help, his heart rose and fell faster and clean now as though something in his heart had just been cleared out.

Blood returned to his face.

The hall conveyed their surprise with quiet whispers.

"How did he do that?"

"This..is unbelievable."

"What did i just witness? That man has a fucking Miracle hand."

Thompson Montclair felt much alive. His blood pulsed faster through every pipe that'd been blocked before.

“Young man, who are you?" He looked at Carl with a mix of gratitude and disbelief. "I have been suffering from heart problems for the past seven years. I have spent millions yet no doctor could cure it. But..you just did..I can feel it." His voice trembled with excitement.

Carl smiled curtly. "You're safe now." He simply said. " Make sure you observe the meats you eat."

With the single instruction, Carl rose to his feet and disappeared into the crowd.

Securities rushed to meet Thompson Montclair. He is one of the wealthiest men in the city, controlling several oil and gas companies.

Thompson didn't even look at the Securities or the paramedics. His eyes searched through the crowd for Carl.

“Find that man! Now!" He commanded.

The ballroom was perfectly decorated by people who were actually paid and did the job perfectly. Crystal chandelier flaunted lights across expensive marbles and tables and chairs lined with fine silks. Expensive wines, desserts that were too beautiful to be consumed and gourmets that cost more than most people's rent sat on each table.

The hall wasn't just choked with aroma, it was filled with rhythms of whispers of the guests, friends and families clinking glasses and exchanging pleasantries. Uninformed staff members gilded through the sitting arrangements, taking in more consumables in silver trays.

Today is Elira Kensington's 23rd birthday and the 13th year anniversary of the Kensington Corporation.

Sarah, her mother, wore a burgundy gown that drank in the bright lights, gold studs catching light on her neck and wrists and throwing it across the room aggressively. She moved with grace and elegance through the sittings, her smile was all over the place as she took turns greeting important guests.

Her daughter had made the family proud and she carried herself with every bit of it.

At another side of the hall was her husband, Dennis, clad in an expensive black suit, indulging the guest with warm pleasantries.

At the biggest table in front sat the patriarch of the family. Pa. Kessington in his power and authority. He wore a crisp white suit, his hair and beards were silver-grey, his face slightly wrinkled with age but he looks clearly maintained with wealth. A silver cane rested on the table edge beside him. At seventy, his presence still commands authority in the family.

Among the guests were other young men who had come to surprise Elira with expensive gifts. These men had their eyes on her.

The voice of the anchor cracked through the speaker, silencing the murmuring.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the woman of the day. Elira Kensington!"

The hall erupted with thundering applause.

Heads turned to the stage.

Elira walked out wearing down a scarlet crimson designer gown that hugged her body perfectly, bringing out her curves. Her hair swept behind her back in soft curls. She moved with grace, her shoulder raised, her chin lifted with pride. Each steps were majestic as though the world was her own to control.

This was her moment. Her day.

Her expression broke into a controlled smile.

Men drooled over her, her presence fueling their ambition, women looked at her with envy. It wasn't just because of her beauty but also her achievements.

The woman who carried the family business alone for ten years without breaking. Maybe not.

But what everyone didn't know was the invisible hand that orchestrated her success, lifting her to the top of the city and protecting her and the family.

Sophia walked up to her with a wide smile, enclosing her into a warm embrace. She whispered into her ear.

"You've made me proud, honey." She was pleased.

Elira's cheek flushed, her mind swelling with pride.

At that moment, the door parted and Carl walked inside the hall.