The Graham Heir—I Am Not An Adopted Nobody

Chapter 7: Shadows of Power

The first light of morning slipped through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse suite, painting the gold-and-ruby finishes in soft gold. Robert woke early, the way he always used to back when life was simple and brutal. He dressed quietly—nothing flashy, just a clean black shirt and dark jeans. The torn hoodie from yesterday was gone; today felt different. Today was the beginning of everything.

He didn’t wake Anna.

Last night she had gone wild, calling in one celebrity chef after another until the private dining room looked like a five-star food festival. She’d laughed until she cried, stuffing her face with dishes she’d only ever seen on TV. Now she slept like an angel—curled up under silk sheets, face peaceful, breathing steady. For the first time in almost two years, she looked like a normal thirteen-year-old girl who didn’t have to worry about the next meal or the next threat.

Robert stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching her chest rise and fall.

This was the life she deserved.

He slipped out quietly and took the private elevator down.

The hotel lobby was already alive—staff moving with practiced grace, guests in designer everything sipping thousand-dollar coffees. Robert found a quiet corner seat near the reception, blending in like he belonged to the shadows instead of owning them. He waited.

Minutes later, the air shifted.

Barry Sanders entered.

The CEO of Bertha Graham Memorial Hotel didn’t walk—he commanded space. Tall, silver-haired, shoulders broad from years of carrying the weight of billions, he moved like a man who had never once asked for permission. Staff bowed instinctively. Guests lowered their voices. Even the air seemed to straighten up.

Barry spotted Robert immediately. His stride faltered for half a second—then he crossed the lobby and stopped in front of the young man sitting like an ordinary guest.

He bowed deeply, palms together, head lowered in full respect.

“Young Master Robert,” he said quietly. “It is an honor.”

Robert stood. “Get up, Barry. Sit with me.”

Barry hesitated. “Sir, I—”

“Sit.”

Barry obeyed, perching on the edge of the chair like he was afraid it might burn him.

Robert leaned back. 

“I hope everything was satisfactory last night.” Barry’s voice was steady but reverent. “I hope I have not disappointed you, Young Master. The hotel is yours. If anything fell short—”

“It was perfect.” Robert’s tone softened. “My father told me yesterday that I would understand why he gave me this place—the Bertha Graham Memorial Hotel—and Bullion Corporation. Do you know why?”

Barry nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. The Emmetts have been negotiating with Bullion Corporation for months. They want to manage BGMH and several other properties under the corporation’s portfolio. If the deal goes through, their net worth would jump from $50 billion to $500 billion. They’d become the fourth-richest family in the country—possibly the world.”

Robert’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.

“So that’s why.”

Power. Dominance. Revenge handed to him on a silver platter.

He looked at Barry. “When is the signing?”

“Tonight, sir. Here at the hotel. The Emmett family is already broadcasting it everywhere—invitations, press releases, the works. The CEO of Bullion Corporation, Andrew Schmitt, will be here to finalize it.”

Robert’s smile deepened. “The deal won’t be happening.”

Barry didn’t blink. “Understood.”

“Call Andrew Schmitt. Tell him the new owner of BGMH and Bullion Corporation is in town. Tell him I’ll be attending the event tonight—for the contract signing with the Emmetts.”

Barry pulled out his phone without a word. “Immediately, sir.”

Robert stood. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Barry bowed again as Robert walked away.

From a distance, another group had just entered the reception area.

Edward Emmett and his friends had arrived from their own luxury suite, still basking in the pride of the night before. They were laughing, talking loudly—until Julie suddenly froze.

“Wait,” she said, squinting. “Isn’t that Robert?”

The group turned instinctively.

They saw him standing near the elevators. And not far behind him—

“Uncle Barry?” Julie whispered.

Malcom snorted. “No way. My uncle wouldn’t waste time on a pauper. I barely get five minutes with him, and I’m his nephew.”

Chloe frowned. “I’m sure that’s him. I’d recognize that loser anywhere.”

The whispers grew louder. Confusion spread.

Edward narrowed his eyes. “Let’s go find out.”

After all, his family was about to become the new managers of BGMH. Soon, even Barry Sanders would answer to the Emmetts.

They approached just as Barry finished his phone call.

“…Yes, Mr. Schmitt,” Barry said into the phone. “The Graham heir is here. He will be attending the contract signing tonight.”

The group overheard everything.

Shock rippled through them.

Edward and Jane exchanged excited looks. If the Graham heir was attending, this deal would elevate their family to unprecedented heights.

After Barry ended the call, Malcolm stepped forward. “Uncle.”

Barry turned and smiled faintly. “Malcolm. How’s your mother?”

“She’s fine,” Malcolm replied quickly.

Barry nodded. “Did you and your friends enjoy your stay last night?”

“Yes,” the group answered in unison, bowing slightly.

Edward stepped forward confidently. “I’m Edward Emmett. This is my sister, Jane. We’re Morris Emmett’s children.”

Barry studied them for a moment, then smiled politely. “Welcome to the hotel.”

Edward felt something was off. There was no awe. No respect.

Edward pressed on. “I just wanted to remind you—our family is about to sign the biggest deal in the industry. BGMH and the other properties will soon be under Emmett management. Which means… technically, you might be working for us soon.”

Barry let the word hang in the air.

“Might.”

He said it slowly, deliberately.

Edward blinked.

The group exchanged glances.

Malcom quickly changed the subject. “Uncle, we actually came with a question. We saw you talking to someone earlier. Who was that?”

Barry’s expression remained calm. “Not someone. The new heir to the Graham empire. The new owner of Bertha Graham Memorial Hotel and Bullion Corporation.”

The lobby seemed to shrink.

Everyone stared.

Chloe jumped in. “That was Robert Emmett. My ex. The adopted bastard. The school errand boy.”

Barry’s face darkened. For a second, rage flashed—pure, protective fury. His hand twitched like he wanted to correct her on the spot.

But he stopped himself.

He studied them carefully.

Edward nodded eagerly. “Exactly. You didn’t see him, Uncle? You should send him out before the new boss arrives. We reported him to security last night—he must have sneaked back in.”

Jane added, “We told them he’s a thief. They should have thrown him out.”

Silver leaned forward. “Wait… Uncle Barry, are you saying the person we saw you talking to—the one who looked exactly like Robert—is the Graham heir?”

Malcom waved her off. “Come on, Silver. Our eyes were playing tricks. We barely slept last night. It was morning light. Mistake. That’s all.”

Barry had heard enough.

He straightened. “All your questions will be answered tonight. But until then—be very careful who you disrespect.”

He turned and walked away.

The group stood there, stunned.

Edward recovered first. “Whatever. Malcom, you still owe us a show. You promised to beat Robert senseless today.”

Malcom grinned. “Oh, I’m looking forward to it. When we run into him at school, I’m breaking more than his pride.”

Jane pulled out her phone. “Look at this.”

She showed them Anna’s I*******m post—simple, excited: a photo of her and Robert inside a luxury car, caption: “Heading to Graham Scholars Academy with big bro! Best day ever!”

The group stared.

Edward frowned. “Graham Scholars Academy? That’s the most expensive high school on the planet. Tuition starts at twenty-five million a year. Only billionaires and world leaders send their kids there.”

Malcom laughed. “Doesn’t matter why they’re going. I’m heading there too. And when I see that bastard, I’m finishing what I started two weeks ago.”

Silver, Tracy, and Julie exchanged looks.

Silver smiled slyly. “We’re coming with you. Front-row seats.”

Tracy nodded. “And if you really break him—legs and all—you get to pick which one of us is your new girlfriend.”

Malcom raised an eyebrow. “What if I want all three?”

Julie—quiet, never-dating Julie—shrugged. “Deal.”

They all burst out laughing.

The sound echoed through the lobby as they headed for the exit, already plotting the day’s violence.