The Hidden Billionaire

CHAPTER 3

"Officer, I've already told you, those are my papers!”

Victor shifted beneath the blanket. He peeked up and spotted a lone young woman beside a red sedan at the far end of the checkpoint. A stocky cop stood too close, gripping her ID and vehicle papers while leering at her blouse.

They were three cars away from clearance and the growl of the stocky officer was irritatingly loud.

"Step aside, ma’am," the officer said. "We might need to search your vehicle."

"My documents are complete, please, let me go!" the woman insisted, her voice cracking.

Victor sat up, he had smeared dirt on his face, pulled an old, tattered blanket over himself to appear elderly and gravely ill. 

“Stay down!” Lily whispered, tugging his shoulder. “You’re a wanted man!”

“She’s being harassed,” Victor muttered, eyes narrowing; and with raw determination, he wiped his grimed face and grabbed a torn faded jacket nearby, his face was shadowed by a scarf and his posture hunched like Odyssey returning to Ithaca; he walked towards the commotion.

The officer was now gesturing toward the woman’s trunk.

Victor’s voice rang out, low but firm. “Is there a problem here, officer?”

The cop turned, annoyed. “This doesn’t concern you, old man. Go sit down before you pass out.”

Victor kept walking. “I saw her papers. You’ve been holding them for over ten minutes.”

“Sir, stand back!” The cop's hand twitched near his belt.

Victor raised both hands, staying calm. “With all due respect, if she’s done nothing wrong, let her through. Or is there another reason she’s being delayed?”

The cop, now aware of the growing attention, shoved the papers against the woman’s chest.

“Fine. Get out of here.”

The woman took them quickly, wide-eyed. She looked at Victor, then at the car behind him where Tape and Lily waved subtly. 

“Thank you,” she whispered before jumping into her car and speeding off through the checkpoint.

Victor climbed back into the car and as it rolled forward to the front of the checkpoint, another officer waved them through without inspection.

“Go on,” the officer said furiously. “Get that plague out of here.”

They drove on for what felt like hours and finally reached the iron gates of an estate disguised in opulence. A huge man in military shorts stood at the entrance.  

His eyes flicked over Victor, sharp and calculating.

“Julius Pager,” Tape announced, stepping down from the car. “Old war buddy, a real piece of work.”

Victor shook off the blanket as he approached. Julius’s smile twitched and he studied Victor, recognition dawning.

“You,” Julius said, voice rough. “Was wondering when you’d show up.”

Victor met his gaze evenly. “Been a long time, Julius.”

Julius chuckled darkly. “Too long. Looks like you’re not doing so well. Or maybe you’ve learned a few new tricks.”

Victor had known Julius during one of their failed security drills. He was one dubious, backstabbing, highly connected kingpin who wouldn't hesitate driving a knife through your back when you're not looking.

Just then, a lady with glassy skin passed by the lawn and Victor's gaze followed her.

Julius sniffed. “Don’t let her charm you, Victor. She’s trouble wrapped in silk.”

Victor had been at the estate for only 2 days, but he could tell Julius Pager, the pathetic kingpin and former soldier, welcomed high-profile guests with fake smiles and heavy handshakes.

Julius was still as shady as ever.

Victor kept his profile low. Still weak from his illness, he let his pale skin and sunken cheeks work in his favor. The house believed he was just a dying man rescued by two crackheads and it was a perfect mask.

He helped one of the older guards fix a broken radio, and the man started talking too much, about “quiet meetings” in the wine cellar, about powerful men who stayed overnight and left at dawn in unmarked cars.

Tape and Lily did what they did best, creating chaos. Lily accused a butler of stealing her hairbrush and sparked an hour-long argument. Tape convinced the gardener to give him a spare key to the shed in exchange for “enlightenment and Wi-Fi repair.” Their madness kept the estate distracted, giving Victor room to move unnoticed and observe Julius.

At dinner, Julius would grin and pretend he liked Victor. But Victor knew love when he saw one, and this was not it. Especially when Julius was on the phone in the courtyard last night. He had leaned in through a slightly ajar window and heard the tail end of the conversation.

“If I hand him over, I want triple. And immunity.”

Victor didn’t flinch. He just walked past the window like nothing happened.

That night, he sat quietly on the patio as Julius introduced a few new guests, senators, businessmen, and a former city judge. They smiled at Victor like a petty thief, and he smiled back. 

That night, every word he listened to confirmed what he already suspected. Someone high up in the government had been discreetly kidnapped—possibly dead—and had been replaced by a lookalike. Problem now was, the kidnapped politician had escaped and this could cause problems for his lookalike. 

Just as he got outside to get some air, a hand whisked him to a corner and it turned out to be the glassy-skinned woman whom he had seen on his first day at the estate. She pressed a finger to her lips and whispered.

“My name is Isabella, I know who you are… and I want to help you.”

“Why?”

Isabella hesitated. “Because once, a man I loved got caught in their trap and vanished, forever.”

“13 Moore Centre. That was the last known location of the kidnapped politician, find him if he is still alive.”

And with that, she disappeared into the lobby while Tape emerged from the lawn.

“Hey!, we need to go! Lily accidentally burned the soup! The guards are losing their minds!”

Victor and Mirabel shared a final look before dashing across the lawn towards a van. Lily appeared from the shadows and joined them.

“I swear it was an accident,” She muttered, climbing into the seat. “I thought the towel was a chicken.”

Tape ignored her and hastily pedaled the van which screeched into the street until they arrived at a Middletown hotel to rest briefly before continuing. 

Inside, Victor bumped into a lady wrapped in a velvety dress and a hat.

He peered closely and her face lit up in familiarity. It was the same lady he had saved from the cocky officer at the checkpoint earlier that day.

“Excuse me!”

“Oh my!” She gasped. “It was you at the checkpoint!”

Victor flashed a smile, offered his hands and she took it. “My name is Victor… Victor West.”

“Oh, call me Kate Hardy.”

“Hardy?...is it the rich political tycoon from the South?”

“Oh yes!”

Victor's eyes shot in amazement. Lord Hardy Grant was, in summary, one of the most powerful in America and a driving force of business political activism.  

No wonder The New York Times drooled over him as “the man who birthed American politics”. 

Only God knew what they were doing in a middle class hotel.

Just then, Lord Hardy Grant emerged from the lounge. He was a stocky figure of a man who walked like a peacock, proud and slow.

“Dad,” Kate announced. “This is the guy I told you about, the one who saved me from a security harassment today.”

Victor beamed a smile as Lord Hardy offered his hands. 

“My daughter fancies your courage.”

“It's nothing, sir.”

“Anyways, do you play Chess?” Lord Hardy asked. “I'm headed to my favourite spot.”

“I'll join you, sir.” 

And without a second thought, he went with the monarch while Kate threw him a wink and for a brief minute, he forgot about his troubles.