The Hidden Trillionaire Heir of Royal Elite Academy

The Reckoning

Arthur’s hands trembled as he stared at the balance displayed on the phone screen, searching desperately for some kind of mistake.

But there was none. Everything was real.

His breathing slowly became uneven. The amount he saw was large enough to erase the nightmare he had lived in for years.

He could finally clear his debt and live a normal life.

Arthur looked up at William, his mouth hanging open, unable to process what was happening.

"I–I don't know what to say," he stuttered.

"You don't have to say a word," William placed a hand on his shoulder. "I respect your choice to deal with this all on your own. But if you ever need anything, do not hesitate to call me."

He reached into his chest pocket and handed Arthur a small platinum business card. Arthur accepted it carefully. The card felt heavier in his hand than it actually looked.

"We have much to discuss after you settle your affairs with the bank," William continued, taking a step back. "But that can wait. For the time being, take care of what matters most."

Then he turned and walked toward the convoy of black luxury cars waiting silently in the hospital parking lot. One of the guards immediately opened the rear door for him.

William entered without another word, the door shutting behind him. One after another, the convoy drove off, leaving Arthur behind.

Arthur stood alone outside the hospital. He glanced down at the new phone once more.

$150,000,000.00

His fingers tightened around the device. Less than an hour ago, he had been kneeling on the hospital floor, begging a doctor to save his mother while knowing he had absolutely nothing.

Now, he had more money than he could spend in a lifetime.

At that moment, his old phone began to ring. Arthur pulled it out absentmindedly. The moment he saw the caller ID, his expression darkened instantly.

It was Manager Cross.

Arthur stared at the ringing phone for a long moment. He already knew why Cross was calling. It was about the bag delivery that Arthur had failed to report back.

Cross was probably furious by now.

The phone continued vibrating in his hand relentlessly. Arthur looked at it silently. Then, for the first time in years, he declined the call.

The ringing stopped instantly.

Arthur slipped the phone back into his pocket and then walked over to his delivery truck. For the first time in his entire life, a strange calmness settled over him.

The fear that had chained him was gone, like smoke disappearing in the breeze.

He climbed into the driver's seat, and started the engine. He now had money. Real money. Enough money to crush Cross like a bug under his boot.

But there was something important he had to do first. Something he had dreamed about for years. He put the truck into gear and drove away from the hospital.

* * * *

A few hours later, Arthur showed up at Moore and Son Logistics.

The warehouse yard was almost empty now. It was late, and everyone had gone to bed except the night shift crew.

Arthur killed the engine and stepped out.

Manager Cross was standing right in the middle of the warehouse, his face redder than Arthur had ever seen before. His assistant, Priscilla, stood right next to him, holding her clipboard tight against her chest like it was a shield.

"Hey YOU!" Cross's voice thundered across the warehouse, bouncing off the metal walls. "You are in trouble, kid! BIG trouble!"

He stormed toward Arthur, his heavy footsteps pounding against the concrete. His face was a mask of rage, veins visibly bulging on his forehead.

Arthur said nothing

"Do you have any idea how many times I've called you? HUNDREDS! And you refused to pick up! Who the bloody hell do you think you are?" Cross yelled.

Arthur calmly walked to the back of the truck and opened it. Then he pulled out the wooden crate with the white handbag inside.

"The client refused to take the bag," Arthur said calmly.

Cross stared at the crate, then back at Arthur. His eyes narrowed.

"We'll get to why you were late," Cross snapped. "First, explain to me why she refused the bag? What did you do? Did you say anything that might've offended her?"

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know. She said she didn't like it, I guess."

"You guess?" Cross snapped as he yanked the crate from Arthur's hands and drew out the white leather handbag and shoved it in his face. "Do you know how much this costs? This is going to be added to your debt ledger, boy! Every single cent!"

A faint smirk nearly appeared on Arthur’s face.

"Do what you've got to do," he said calmly. "I honestly don't care."

The warehouse fell silent.

Priscilla's jaw dropped in surprise. Cross's face froze mid-snarl, his eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to process what he had just heard.

"Did... did you just say you don't care?" Priscilla finally spoke. She stepped forward, tapping her fake nails against her clipboard. "Arthur, that bag is worth $250,000. Do you understand what that means?"

"Yeah, I know," Arthur responded. "So what?"

"So what?" She stepped closer, staring at him like she no longer recognized him. "That amount alone wipes out years of your repayments. Everything you suffered for all these years will all be for nothing. You will be back to square one."

Arthur looked hard at her indifferently.

"What's the use?" he said. "It's not like I can convince the girl to take the bag. Besides , you were going to add it to my debt anyway."

Cross suddenly laughed. "You bet we will." Then his eyes narrowed maliciously as he turned to Priscilla. "In fact, add another extra fifty thousand dollars to his debt just to spite him. For wasting our time, arriving late, and having the audacity to talk to me like that."

Priscilla's eyes lit up with malice.

“With pleasure,” she said smugly while writing on her clipboard. “Congratulations, Arthur. You’re officially back to square one. All that blood, all those tears, every double shift you ever worked—it's all gone. How do you like that?"

Arthur uncrossed his arms. He took a slow step forward. "I'd like nothing better," he said quietly, "than for you to shut your mouth."

The smile vanished from Priscilla's face. Cross stared at Arthur in complete shock.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stared at Arthur as if he had grown a second head.

Then Cross exploded.

"Have you lost your mind?" He screamed, raising his hand violently to slap Arthur's cheek. "I'll teach you some respect, you ungrateful rat!"

But before the slap could land, Arthur grabbed Cross’s wrist.

Cross's eyes bulged open, like two saucers. He tried to pull his hand back, but Arthur's grip was tight as iron.

Then Arthur's other hand moved.

SLAP!!!

Arthur's open hand slapped Cross right on the cheek. The sound echoed through the warehouse like a thunderclap.