The 900 Billionaire Dollar Heir

Chapter Eight - One Phone Call

The room erupted with laughter.

Gloria doubled over, holding her stomach as she laughed so hard tears formed in her eyes.

Richard Brown chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. Gloria's younger brother snorted, and even her parents were smiling.

"Did you hear that?" Gloria's brother gasped between laughs. "He's going to make Mr. Brown go bankrupt! That's the funniest thing I've heard all day."

Gloria's father wiped his eyes, still chuckling. "Young man, do you even know who you're talking to? Do you have any idea who Mr. Brown is?"

Duane looked at him calmly. "Does it matter?"

That set off another round of laughter.

"Does it matter?" Gloria's mother repeated, looking at him like he was insane. "Of course it matters! You can't just make threats when you don't even know who you're dealing with."

"He must have completely lost his mind," Gloria's brother said, shaking his head. "The stress finally broke him."

Gloria's father stepped forward, his expression a mix of pity and contempt. "Let me educate you, boy. Mr. Brown is a senior executive at Pinnacle Reserve Bank. One of the most powerful financial institutions in the world. He manages billions of dollars. He has connections that reach the highest levels of government and business." He crossed his arms. "And you think you can make him go bankrupt? You? A pathetic live-in son-in-law who couldn't even support himself? You gave up everything to take care of my daughter, and now you have nothing. No job. No money. No power. You're nobody. And you think you can threaten someone like Mr. Brown?"

Duane's expression didn't change. "Yes."

More laughter filled the room.

Gloria stepped forward, her earlier shock replaced by renewed confidence. "Okay, this has gone way beyond what I expected. I thought you'd come in here, make a scene, maybe cry a little, then leave with your tail between your legs." She pulled out her phone. "But threatening Mr. Brown? That's too far, Duane. You're actually insane."

She started dialing. "I'm calling security. They're going to remove you from the hotel and probably call the police for making threats."

"Wait." Richard Brown raised his hand, still smiling. "Don't call security yet."

Richard leaned back on the sofa, his expression amused and curious. "I want to see this. I'm genuinely curious how far he thinks he can go with this fantasy of his." He looked at Duane. "Please, continue. Show me how you're going to make me go bankrupt. I could use the entertainment."

Duane looked down at Maya, who was still leaning against him, exhausted and crying.

"Can you stand on your own for a minute?" he asked her gently.

She nodded, wiping her face. "I think so."

Duane helped her to a chair and made sure she was steady. Then he pulled out his phone and walked toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Gloria called after him. "Running away already?"

Duane didn't answer. He stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

The lobby area outside the presidential suites was quiet and empty. Duane walked to the large window overlooking the city and pulled up Catherine Hartwell's contact information.

She'd given him her direct number at the bank, told him to call anytime he needed anything.

He pressed call.

She answered on the first ring.

"Mr. Wordsworth. Is everything alright?"

Duane's voice was steady but cold. "My sister was sold to one of your employees as a sex slave."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "What?"

"His name is Richard Brown. He's a senior executive at your bank. He had my sister dancing for him until her feet bled. He planned to do more than that."

"Where are you right now?" Catherine's voice had gone hard and professional.

"The Grandeur Hotel. Presidential suite 3501. Can you help me stop Richard right away?" Duane said with a hint of anxiety. "I'm afraid something we can't undo will happen at any moment."

"Yes. Definitely. Rest assured. It'll only take a moment,"

Duane heard rapid typing on a keyboard, then Catherine's voice became muffled as she spoke to someone else in her office. 

"Pull Richard Brown’s file immediately. Yes, Richard Brown, senior executive. I don't care what time it is, wake up the compliance team. I want every transaction, every expense report, every communication reviewed in the next five minutes."

Duane heard more typing and more muffled conversation.

Then Catherine came back on the line, her voice tight with controlled fury.

“Mr. Wordsworth, as we speak, Mr. Brown is already fired,”

“How did that happen so quickly?” Duane asked, completely stunned. “I thought things like that took a lot of time?”

“Not if a full investigation is launched,” Catherine’s voice was calm yet firm. “There are plenty of scumbags who toy with people like this, and they usually have extensive records of corruption. As long as an inquiry begins, you can almost always find a wealth of evidence.”

“It’s just that they typically have networks of connections and protective umbrellas that ensure their actions remain hidden. They only fall when their network collapses, or when they mess with the wrong person.”

“And now,” Catherine paused, “he was foolish enough to mess with you.”

Duane heard papers rustling on her end.

"We pulled his records. All of them. Financial transactions, communications, expense reports, everything. The misconduct was extensive and clear. Misuse of company funds, inappropriate conduct with clients, violations of multiple ethics policies. More than enough for immediate termination."

"He's been terminated effective immediately," Catherine continued. "Security has been notified. His access to all bank systems has been revoked. And he's being held personally liable for damages to the bank's reputation and financial losses from his misconduct.”

Duane felt satisfaction as she spoke, "Thank you."

"No, Mr. Wordsworth. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Someone like that has no place in our organization." She paused. "Is your sister safe?"

"She will be."

"Good. And Mr. Wordsworth? If you need anything else, anything at all, you call me immediately. Day or night.”

"Thank you. I will."

Duane hung up and stood there for a moment, looking out at the city lights.

Less than three minutes. That's all it had taken.

One phone call. Three minutes. And Richard Brown's entire world had just collapsed.

That's how much power he held now. 

Duane turned and walked back to the suite. He opened the door and stepped inside.

The scene that greeted him was chaos.

Richard Brown sat on the sofa, his face completely drained of color, staring at his phone like it was a snake about to bite him. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold it.

Gloria's family stood nearby, their earlier confidence completely gone, replaced by shock and confusion.

Gloria herself had gone quiet, her phone hanging forgotten in her hand. 

"What..." Richard's voice came out as a whisper. "What did you do? How …how did you do it?"