The Graham Heir—I Am Not An Adopted Nobody

Chapter 10: The Storm Unleashed

Steve’s words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Prof. Darby stared at the director, mouth open, disbelief carved into every line of his face. “You’re… you’re actually denying me the vote? Because of him?”

Steve’s voice was calm, almost bored. “Out of my office, Darby. Now.”

Anna crossed her arms, a wicked little grin spreading across her face. “Wait. He can stay… if he goes down on his knees, apologizes to us properly, and then crawls out begging us to change our minds.”

Prof. Darby’s face turned purple. “I would rather die.”

He snatched his phone from the table, turned on his heel, and marched toward the door. At the threshold he paused, spun back, and jabbed a finger at them.

“This isn’t over. You—” he glared at Robert “—I’ll make your life hell in this school. Every single day. And you—” he looked at Steve “—the Graham heir is coming to the Emmett event tonight. I’ll meet him there. I’ll get my vote. And I’ll make sure you lose this job before the week is out.”

Anna’s grin faltered for a second—real fear flickering in her eyes.

Then Steve laughed. A deep, rolling sound that filled the room.

Robert joined in—quiet, confident.

Prof. Darby’s face twisted. “What’s so funny?”

Steve leaned back in his chair. “You’ll see. We’ve got another surprise waiting for you.”

The professor stormed out, slamming the door so hard the framed certificates rattled on the wall.

At the reception, the same security guards who had once bowed to him now stepped into his path.

“Sir,” one said politely. “You need to come with us.”

Prof. Darby drew himself up. “Do you know who I am? You can’t harass me like this!”

“We’re not harassing you,” the guard said. “Not yet. We’re just detaining you. There’s something you need to see.”

The receptionist—who had fawned over him for years—smirked. Several staff members who had once greeted him with deference now laughed openly.

Prof. Darby’s pride wouldn’t let him argue. He followed them, head high, into the elevator.

They took him to a higher floor—an observation deck overlooking the entire school compound. Floor-to-ceiling glass. Perfect view.

His eyes went straight to the VIP parking lot.

There it sat: the matte-black Ferrari SF90 Stradale—one of one, $100 million. He’d noticed it earlier when he arrived. Had wondered who on earth could afford such a thing in this city.

Now it was the only thing he could look at.

Minutes later, the elevator dinged again.

Robert and Anna stepped out, Steve walking respectfully half a step behind them. Every staff member in the hallway bowed low. Whispers followed them like wind.

Prof. Darby watched from the glass wall as Steve personally handed Anna her new student ID—gold-embossed, VIP status stamped in raised letters. Only children from the twelve most powerful families on earth—the same families who secretly ruled the world through the ancient Council of Rulers—received that mark. Untouchable. Above everyone else.

Anna stared at the card like it was made of magic.

From being sent home for $20,000 in overdue f*es… to enrolled in the most expensive school on the planet at $25 million a year… to VIP status, rumored to carry a lifetime billion-dollar f*e.

She looked up at Robert, eyes shining. “You just spent over a billion dollars… on me?”

Robert had spent over a billion dollars just to secure her position. Anna had glimpsed him swipe a mysterious, shimmering card to complete the payment.

Robert shrugged. “You’re worth it.”

They walked out together, heading toward the Ferrari.

A black Lamborghini Urus roared into the compound and skidded to a stop.

Malcom stepped out first, followed by Julie, Tracy, and Silver. All of them grinning like wolves.

Malcom cracked his knuckles. “I told you, Robert. I came to finish what I started last night.”

From the observation deck, Prof. Darby hissed. Foolish boy. Steve would have him arrested in seconds. Even with Barry Sanders as his uncle and a billionaire father, Malcom was about to feel the full wrath of the Grahams for bring a fight to their property.

Steve laughed—loud enough for everyone to hear. “You know the rules, Malcom. No fighting on school grounds.”

Malcom smirked. “I’m willing to take the risk. This bastard doesn’t get to walk away again.”

Steve arched an eyebrow, entertained. “Do you honestly believe that a thousand of you could stand a chance against Robert?”

The question drew gasps from onlookers. Anna had wondered the same thing last night. Malcom’s pride swelled. “I am a karate champion,” he boasted. “I’m bigger, stronger, and faster. I can handle a thousand of him.”

Steve studied him for a long moment. Then he shrugged. “Fine. Indulge yourself.”

He waved at security. “Stand down.”

The guards stepped back.

The girls cheered. Julie leaned in. “Remember our promise, Malcom. Beat him. Break his legs. Then you get to choose which one of us is your new girlfriend.”

Tracy giggled. “Or all three.”

Silver winked. “We’re flexible.”

Anna and Steve exchanged looks—both of them laughing under their breath, pity in their eyes.

Malcom charged.

He swung a haymaker—fast, practiced, the punch of a karate champion.

Robert moved—just a fraction.

Malcom’s momentum carried him forward. He tripped over nothing, slammed face-first into the pavement.

A stunned silence.

Anna clapped. “Told you. A thousand Malcoms wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Steve shook his head. “Poor kid never had one.”

Malcom scrambled up, face red, blood on his lip. He roared and attacked again.

This time Robert caught the fist in his open palm. Twisted the arm in one smooth, sickening motion.

Malcom screamed—high, raw.

The ladies’ mouths fell open; this was not how they expected events to unfold.

Just as Malcom struggled to regain balance, the ground shook slightly from the arrival of several vans. Three black vans tore into the compound, tires screeching.

Doors flew open.

Twenty-five men poured out—tattooed, armed with bats, knives, chains. Mr. Azeez stepped out last, grinning like he’d already won.

He pointed. “Surround them!”

Anna’s eyes went wide. “Steve—call backup!”

Steve only smiled. “They’re already dead meat.”

Prof. Darby, still watching from above, stood up straight. Finally. Someone to deal with this problem.

The girls screamed and ran for cover.

Robert released Malcom. The boy collapsed, crawling behind his Lamborghini.

Mr. Azeez strolled forward as his men formed a tight circle around Robert, Anna, and Steve.

“You got past my three guys last night,” Azeez said. “Let’s see how you handle twenty-five.”

Robert’s eyes darkened.

The air around him seemed to thicken—heat rolling off him in waves, like steam rising from hot pavement. Everyone felt it: Malcom, the professor, the girls hiding nearby. Even the armed men hesitated.

Robert’s voice came out low, almost otherworldly. “You’re not walking away this time.”

Thunder in every word.

Azeez laughed—nervous now. “Take them!”

The men rushed.

Robert bent low.

Steve grabbed Anna and pulled her to the ground. “Down!”

Robert rose—arms spreading wide.

A pulse—visible, blue-white, like wind made of lightning—exploded outward from him in a perfect circle, ten, maybe fifteen feet in every direction.

The force hit like a shockwave.

Men flew—bodies tumbling, weapons clattering, unconscious before they hit the ground.

Azeez landed hardest—slammed against the side of a van, out cold.

Malcom’s Lamborghini crumpled like paper—windows shattered, roof caved. The Ferrari and every other innocent car sat untouched.

Malcom himself was thrown back, rolling over and over until he slammed into a bush.

From the observation deck, Prof. Darby stared, mouth open.

He recognized it.

He’d studied the ancient texts. Researched the myths. Dismissed most of them as fantasy.

But that…

That was real.

Only one family could master such techniques.

The Grahams. And now, standing before him, was someone who wielded it effortlessly.

He fumbled for his phone. Hands shaking, he dialed Avery.

She answered on the first ring. “Dad? What’s wrong? You sound—”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I was wrong. Completely wrong.”

Avery went quiet.

“I… I approve. You and Robert. Go on your date tonight. But it has to be the Emmett event. He’ll be there. I’m sure of it.”

Avery’s voice softened. “Why the sudden change?”

He didn’t answer.

He was watching Robert and Anna walk to the Ferrari.

Robert opened the passenger door for Anna like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The engine roared to life—a sound that shook the entire compound.

Prof. Darby stared at the car—the one-of-a-kind, $100 million Ferrari.

Yesterday that boy had begged him for $50,000.

Today he owned this.

He ended the call without another word.

Down below, Tracy, Julie, and Silver stood frozen behind a pillar.

Tracy whispered, “Who the hell is he?”

Silver shook her head. “I don’t know. But we’re in deep trouble.”

Malcom dragged himself up, bruised, bleeding, staring at the wreckage of his car.

He looked at the Ferrari pulling away.

And whispered to himself, “Thank God I didn’t push him further.”

Inside the car, Anna sat shaking—half from fear, half from awe.

She kept repeating the same words under her breath, like a prayer.

“Robert is a Graham.”

“Robert is the Graham heir.”

“Robert is not an adopted bastard.”

“Robert is not who he seems.”

Robert glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

The Ferrari roared out of the gates, leaving chaos and stunned silence in its wake.

Tonight, the Emmett event would never be the same.