The Hidden King Of Northwood University

8: The Proxy

“Did you rent a tux to hide the smell of the locker room, Leo?”

The sneer in Sarah’s voice carried over the clicking shutters of a dozen cameras. She stood by the gold-trimmed pillars of the Vanguard Auction house, her hand locked around Brad’s arm. The red carpet was a sea of flashing lights, but as Leo followed Maya out of the Ferrari, the paparazzi didn't just snap photos...they started whispering.

"Who is that with the Sterling heiress?" a reporter muttered.

Leo didn't turn his head. He felt the midnight-black suit move with his stride...a second skin that felt more like armor than silk.

An elder statesman of the fashion world, a man who usually ignored the Sterlings, stopped dead in his tracks. He adjusted his heavy glasses, his eyes widening as he stared at the back of Leo’s jacket.

“My god,” the old man whispered to his assistant. “Look at that weave. That’s the Blackwood Weave. Only three people in the world are allowed to wear that.”

The old man bowed deeply to Leo’s retreating back. Sarah’s mocking smile faltered. She looked at Brad, then back at Leo, assuming the old man was just losing his mind.

Inside, the ballroom was a battlefield. Leo sat in the front row, his face partially obscured by the soft lighting. Maya sat beside him, her heart was already racing. She was the one who told him to go into the shop and "buy something decent," but she hadn't expected... this. The boy next to her didn't look like a charity case anymore. He looked like a threat.

“Remember why we’re here,” Maya whispered, leaning in so her perfume clouded his senses. “The Millers are watching my every move. If I raise my paddle, they’ll bid just to bankrupt me. You’re my ghost, Leo. You’re the one who places the bids so they don't see the Sterling name coming.”

Leo gave a tiny, almost invisible nod. He didn't tell her that he hadn't spent a dime of her money. He didn't tell her about the gold key in his pocket or the man named Sebastian who was currently moving trillions in the background.

The auctioneer stepped up to the podium. “Item forty-two. The Grand Terminal Development Project. Starting bid: two hundred million dollars.”

The room went dead silent. This was the life-raft Brad’s father, Mr. Miller, had been chasing for years. Leo watched as the older man straightened his tie, his forehead slick with sweat.

“Two hundred and ten million!” Mr. Miller shouted immediately, his voice oily with desperation.

“Three hundred,” a voice called from the back.

“Three hundred and fifty!” Mr. Miller screamed back, his face turning a dangerous shade of purple. He was pushing every cent his company had left into this bid.

Maya nudged Leo’s arm. “Now,” she hissed. “Go to four hundred.”

Leo didn't look at her. He didn't use the paddle she had given him. He simply leaned toward the digital tablet on the table in front of them...the one synced to the high-limit private accounts.

The board flashed.

$500,000,000

Maya’s jaw dropped. “Leo? What are you doing? I said four hundred!”

Mr. Miller’s head snapped toward them. He stared at the back of Leo’s head, his eyes bulging. “Five hundred and ten!” he screamed, his hands shaking.

Leo’s fingers moved again, ghosting over the screen.

$700,000,000

The hammer hit the wood. “Sold! To the representative in Seat 1A.”

Mr. Miller sat back in his chair, his face was turning a ghostly, sickly grey. The Grand Terminal...his only hope...was gone.

As the crowd moved toward the gala, Mr. Miller pushed through the chairs, his face was a mask of rage. Brad and Sarah followed, looking like they were in a trance.

“You!” Mr. Miller roared, stopping a few feet from Leo. “Who do you think you are? You just destroyed thirty years of work! You just killed five thousand jobs!”

Leo stood up slowly. The height difference was sudden.

“My employer doesn't talk to men who can't manage their own debt, Mr. Miller,” Leo said. His voice was low and cold.

“Your employer?” Maya cut in, her eyes darting between Leo and the ruined billionaire. “Leo, what is going on? I’m your employer!”

“You’re a nobody!” Brad stepped forward, his fists were clenched. “He’s a scholarship kid, Dad! He’s just a lucky little messenger boy for whatever billionaire Maya is sucking up to!”

Sarah stepped up beside Brad. “He’s right. You think a suit makes you one of them? You’re still the guy I dumped, Leo. You’re still a placeholder.”

Leo reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope. He didn't give it to Maya. He handed it to Mr. Miller.

“What is this?” Mr. Miller asked, his hands trembling as he opened it.

His face went from grey to white. He began to shake so hard he nearly dropped the paper. “This... this is a notice of immediate foreclosure. My company’s primary loans... they’ve all been bought out by an anonymous trust.”

“By who?” Brad grabbed the paper. At the bottom was a single, gold lion stamp.

Leo leaned in, his face was inches from Sarah’s. The smirk she had been wearing for years finally crumbled.

“My boss has a very specific hobby, Sarah,” Leo whispered. “He likes to collect trash. And he noticed the Millers were currently at the top of the pile.”

Leo didn't wait for a response. He adjusted his cufflink and looked at Brad’s father one last time.

“I’d start packing, Mr. Miller. The bank usually moves quite fast when the owner is personally involved.”

Leo turned to Maya and offered her his arm. She took it, but she was trembling. She looked at him like he was a stranger...a dangerous one.

​“Leo,” she whispered as they walked away, her fingers digging into his sleeve. “I didn't give you seven hundred million dollars. I don't even have that in my personal account. My family didn't authorize a bid that high. Who... who is really behind that suit?”

​Leo didn't stop walking. He didn't even look at her. He kept his eyes fixed on the glass doors of the exit, his expression as flat as the pavement.

​“I don’t know his name, Maya,” Leo said quietly.

​Maya stopped in the middle of the hallway, forcing him to turn and face her. “Don’t lie to me. You don't just walk into a room and dismantle a man's life because a stranger told you to. A man met you at the shop, didn't he? I saw a black car pull up while I was on the phone.”

​Leo offered a small, tired shrug. It was the perfect mask of a confused scholarship kid who had just been caught in a whirlwind.

​“He said he was an old friend of my grandfather,” Leo lied, his voice steady. “He saw me through the window and said it was a shame to see a Blackwood bloodline looking like a beggar. He gave me the suit. He gave me the tablet. He told me that if I placed those bids, he’d make sure Sarah and Brad never laughed at me again.”

​Maya searched his eyes, looking for a crack, a spark of the power she had just seen in the ballroom. But Leo played the part perfectly. He looked back at her with the same quiet, patient gaze of the boy who scrubbed the gym floors.

​“You just... did what he said?” Maya asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You realized you just destroyed the Millers on the whim of a ghost?”

​“He told me he wanted to clear the trash,” Leo said, his voice dropping an octave. “And honestly, Maya? After three years of being under their boots, I didn't care who was signing the checks. I just wanted to see them fall.”

​Maya stared at him for a long heartbeat. Part of her wanted to believe him...it was easier to believe a mysterious billionaire was using Leo than to believe Leo was the billionaire. But the way he stood in that suit, the way the elder statesman had bowed to him... it didn't feel like a lucky break. It felt like a homecoming.

​“Let’s go, Maya,” Leo said, gently nudging her toward the door. “We’re done here.”