The Heir's Ascent: From Rags to Fortune.

CHAPTER FIVE

“I'll need to think about it."I said with surprising authority.

"Of course! Take all the time you need. I'll send the acceptance packet to your email address. We look forward to hearing from you, Mr. Cole."

She hung up, and I set my phone down slowly, staring at Victoria.

"Prestige University?" I said. "That's one of the top schools in the country."

"Top five, actually," Victoria said, not looking up from her laptop. "I took the liberty of submitting applications to several institutions this morning. Prestige was the first to respond, but I expect you'll hear from others by this afternoon."

"You can't just... do that."

"I can, and I did." She finally looked at me, her expression matter-of-fact. "You're intelligent, Ethan. Your grades prove that—maintaining a 3.8 GPA while working three jobs is remarkable. You deserve to be at a school that challenges you. Community college is fine, but with your resources now, why limit yourself?"

I wanted to argue, but she had a point. I'd chosen community college because it was cheap, not because it was where I wanted to be.

"This is all happening so fast," I said.

"I know. But sometimes fast is good." She closed her laptop. "Let me ask you something. If you could do anything right now—anything at all—what would it be?"

I thought about that. Twenty-four hours ago, my answer would have been simple: pay off my debt, maybe afford an apartment without roommates, and not have to work three jobs.

But now?

"I want to understand what happened," I said slowly. "Why did the Blakes adopt me if they knew who I was? What really happened when I was a baby. I want to know the whole truth."

Victoria nodded. "Those are good goals. My legal team is already investigating the adoption. As for your early childhood, your father has been compiling everything he knows. When you meet him, he'll explain it all."

"When I meet him," I repeated. The words felt surreal.

"In the meantime, though, I'd suggest focusing on more immediate concerns. Like what you're going to do about the Blakes."

"What do you mean?"

"They're not going to just leave you alone," Victoria said. "The moment they realize you actually have money and power, they'll come crawling back. Dylan especially. People like that always do."

I felt my jaw clench. "Let them try."

"That's the spirit." She smiled. "But you'll need to be smart about it. Revenge is best served cold and calculated, not hot."

"Is that a business principle?"

"It's a life principle." She pulled out her phone and showed me the screen. "Case in point: this morning, Dylan posted on social media about his new girlfriend. Complete with photos."

I looked at the screen. There was Dylan, arm around Sarah, both of them grinning at the camera. The caption read: *Finally with someone who appreciates the finer things. #Upgrade #LivingMyBestLife*

The photos were clearly taken last night, after I'd left. Sarah was wearing the Hermès bag Dylan had given her, showing it off in multiple shots.

I should have felt something—anger, hurt, jealousy. But instead, I just felt... empty. Like they were strangers I'd never met.

"He's trying to get a reaction out of you," Victoria observed.

"Well, he's not going to get one."

"Good." She took her phone back. "Though I should mention—Sarah's rent is due in three days. I happen to know this because Meridian Corporation owns the building she lives in. She's been consistently late on payments for the past four months."

I looked at her. "You're kidding."

"I never kid about real estate." Victoria's smile was sharp. "The previous arrangement was that you paid two-thirds of her rent. Without that, she can't afford it. The building manager has already sent her a notice."

"So she'll be evicted?"

"Unless she comes up with the money. Which, given her current employment status as a part-time barista, seems unlikely." Victoria paused. "Of course, as the owner of the building, you could always choose to be... lenient. Or not. It's entirely your decision."

I sat back, processing this. Yesterday, I'd been working myself to exhaustion to help Sarah with her rent. And the whole time, she'd been cheating on me with Dylan.

"What happens if she gets evicted?" I asked.

"She'd have to find another apartment. With an eviction on her record, that would be difficult. She'd likely have to move back in with her parents—who, from what I understand, live in a rather unpleasant part of town."

I thought about Sarah's face when she'd called me pathetic. About the contempt in her voice when she'd said I was broke.

"Let the eviction proceed," I said quietly.

Victoria nodded approvingly. "I'll inform the building manager." She made a note on her tablet. "Now, what about Dylan?"

"What about him?"

"He humiliated you. Publicly. Are you going to let that stand?"

"What am I supposed to do? Beat him up again?"

"Of course not. That would be crude." Victoria leaned forward. "But there are other ways to make him understand his mistake. For instance, Dylan is currently employed at his father's insurance agency, correct?"

"Yeah. Some made-up position where he doesn't actually do anything."

"Precisely. And I happen to know that the Blake Insurance Agency is looking to expand—they've been trying to secure a contract with Meridian Corporation for months. A contract that would triple their annual revenue."

I could see where this was going. "And Meridian just happens to be mine now."

"Exactly. You could approve that contract, making the Blake family very wealthy. Or..." She let the word hang in the air.

"Or I could deny it."

"You could. Though I'd suggest something more subtle." Victoria's eyes gleamed. "You could approve the contract, but make it conditional on certain personnel changes. For instance, requiring that Dylan Blake be removed from any position of authority within the company."

I stared at her. "You want me to get him fired?"

"I want you to understand your power," Victoria corrected. "Dylan spent years making you feel small, inferior, worthless. Now you have the ability to show him exactly how wrong he was. Not through violence, but through the simple exercise of economic pressure."

It was tempting. God, it was tempting.

"Isn't that kind of... petty?" I asked.

"Petty would be keying his car or posting revenge p**n. This is business." She shrugged. "Besides, from what I've seen of Dylan's work record, removing him from a position of authority would probably be doing the company a favor. He's utterly incompetent."

My phone buzzed again. Another text from Sarah.

*Ethan, we need to talk. Please. I made a mistake. Can we meet?*

I showed it to Victoria.

"She knows," Victoria said immediately.

"Knows what?"

"That something's changed. She doesn't know what, but she can sense it. Women like Sarah have a sixth sense for power and money." She looked at me. "How do you want to respond?"

I thought about it. About the hundred million dollars in my bank account. About Meridian Corporation. About Prestige University.

About the fact that I didn't need her anymore. I'd never needed her.

I typed out a reply.

*You made your choice. Live with it.*

And hit send.

Victoria smiled. "Well done."

"So what now?" I asked.

"Now, we start building your new life." She opened her laptop again. "First priority: finding you a proper residence. I've compiled a list of available properties—condos, houses, penthouses. All in good neighborhoods, all fully furnished if you want them to be."

She turned the screen to show me a slideshow of stunning homes. Each one looked like something out of an architectural magazine.

"Pick whichever one you like," Victoria said. "Or we can look at others. Money is not an issue."

I scrolled through the options, still not quite believing this was my life now. Yesterday I was living in a storage closet. Today I was choosing between penthouses.

"This one," I said, stopping on a modern loft apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows and exposed brick. It was smaller than some of the other options, but something about it felt right. "How much?"

"It's a rental property owned by Meridian, so you wouldn't be paying anything. But if you wanted to buy it outright, approximately 2.3 million."

2.3 million. The number should have terrified me. Instead, I just felt numb.

"I'll take it," I said.

"Excellent choice. I'll have it prepared for you. You can move in this afternoon if you'd like." She made another note. "Now, regarding your education—"

"I want to go to Prestige," I interrupted.

She looked up, surprised. "Are you sure? You said you needed time to think."

"I do need time. But not about that." I met her eyes. "The Blakes always told me I wasn't smart enough for a top university. That I should be grateful for community college. I want to prove them wrong."

Victoria's smile was warm, genuine. "Then that's what you'll do. I'll confirm your acceptance this afternoon."

My phone rang. This time it was my adoptive father.

I let it go to voicemail.

"You know they're going to keep trying," Victoria said.

"Let them." I felt something hard and cold settling in my chest. Not quite anger, but close. Determination, maybe. "They had eighteen years to treat me like family. They chose not to. Now they can deal with the consequences."

"And if they show up here? Or at your new apartment?"

"Then I'll have them removed." I looked at her. "I can do that, right? Have security remove them?"

"You own the building, Ethan. You can do whatever you want."

The power in those words was intoxicating. And terrifying.

"I want to be clear about something," I said slowly. "I'm not trying to become some kind of... I don't know, villain. I don't want to hurt people just because I can."

"Of course not," Victoria said. "But there's a difference between hurting people and protecting yourself. The Blakes hurt you for years. Sarah betrayed you. Dylan humiliated you. Setting boundaries, enforcing consequences—that's not villainy. That's self-respect."

She was right. I knew she was right.

But there was still a part of me—the part that had spent eighteen years trying to earn the Blakes' approval, trying to be good enough—that felt guilty for having this power.

"It'll get easier," Victoria said, reading my expression. "The guilt, I mean. Give it time."

"How do you know?"

"Because I've seen it before. People who come into money suddenly, especially people who've been poor—they always feel guilty at first. Like they don't deserve it. But you do deserve it, Ethan. This is your birthright. Your family wants you to have it."

"My family," I repeated. The words still felt foreign.

"Speaking of which." Victoria pulled out another folder. "Your father asked me to give you this."

Inside was a letter, handwritten on expensive stationery. The handwriting was elegant, masculine.

*Dear Ethan,

I don't know if you'll ever read this. I don't know if Victoria will even be able to find you. But I have to try.

I've spent twenty years searching for you. Twenty years of dead ends, false leads, and crushing disappointment. There were times I wanted to give up, times I thought you must be gone forever. But your mother never stopped believing we'd find you. And she was right.

I wish I could be there with you now. I wish I could explain everything in person, hold you, tell you how sorry I am for all the years we lost. But circumstances make that impossible at the moment. Soon, though. I promise.

Until then, please know this: you are my son. You always have been, even when we were apart. Everything I have built, everything I've accomplished—it was all with the hope that one day, I'd be able to share it with you.

*Use these resources wisely. Build a life you're proud of. And know that whatever you choose to do, wherever you choose to go, you have a family who loves you.

I can't wait to meet you.

 Your father,

Richard Ashford*

I read it twice, my throat tight. Then I folded it carefully and put it back in the folder.

"He really wrote that," I said. It wasn't a question.

"He did. Last week, after we confirmed we'd found you." Victoria's voice was soft. "He's a good man, Ethan. Both your parents are. They've suffered a lot, losing you."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"Take your time," Victoria said. "There's no rush. Today, let's just focus on getting you settled. Moving into your new apartment, getting you some proper clothes, maybe opening some additional bank accounts. The emotional stuff—meeting your parents, dealing with the past—that can wait."

"Okay," I managed.

She stood up. "I'll make the arrangements. Why don't you finish your breakfast? We'll leave in an hour."

After she left, I sat alone at the massive dining table, surrounded by more food than I could eat, in a penthouse suite that cost more per night than I used to make in a month.

My phone buzzed again. Dylan this time.

*Bro, seriously, what's your problem? Sarah's freaking out. Just call her back.*

I stared at the message for a long moment. Then I blocked his number. And Sarah's. And my adoptive parents'.

Victoria was right. They'd had their chance.

Now it was my turn.