The Infinite Fortune System

Chapter 9

At Eric’s house, his three subordinates were in full motion. Each had a task, folding clothes, securing documents, checking luggage, making sure Elise’s sudden departure overseas would happen without a hitch. The short notice and the whirlwind of recent events left little time to prepare, but with three trained professionals moving in sync, efficiency was absolute.

“At last.” Elise smiled faintly at the neatly packed suitcase, complete with her identification documents. It wasn’t everything she owned, just the essentials. “I’ll buy the rest once I get there.”

“Good. And don’t hold back. Buy whatever you need, and whatever you simply want, whether it’s necessary or not.” Eric’s tone was calm, steady, and firm as he patted his sister’s arm. “Forget about money. Forget about me. And don’t waste your time with part-time jobs. Focus on your studies… and live well.”

Elise’s lips trembled, but Eric’s gaze stayed unwavering. He didn’t need her tears, he needed her safety. She hugged him, clinging to him like the days when they were much younger.

He remembered those days vividly. Back then, he had been frail, a constant burden. Elise, still so young herself, had been forced into the role of caretaker, enduring far more than anyone her age should. She had taken on their late mother’s mantle, gentle, protective, and tireless in her devotion.

A memory sharpened in his mind: the biting cold of snowfall, his own body aching as he searched for her. Finding her on the street, shivering, hands outstretched to strangers for coins, begging just to buy him medicine. That image had burned itself into him, not as a wound to pity, but as a reason to make sure no one ever reduced her to that again.

“You’ll take me to the airport,” Elise said, wiping her cheeks.

Before he could answer, the growl of an engine outside cut through the air. Eric’s eyes narrowed immediately. He knew that sound. Seconds later, a sharp, insistent pounding shook the front door.

“Eric! Open up!”

“Aunt Peyton?” Elise blurted, but Eric’s hand covered her mouth in an instant.

His expression told her everything—silence. Moving without a sound, he crossed to the window, parted the curtain just enough, and confirmed what he already suspected.

Peyton. With two bodyguards in tow. Her face was tight with rage, which only meant one thing—word of what had happened to Jim had reached her. She was here for Elise, and for retribution.

“Eric, you’re in there, aren’t you?! Open this door!” The pounding grew louder.

Kevin Anderson appeared beside him, speaking low. “Sir, we can open it. We’ll put them down before they take a step inside.”

Eric’s jaw flexed once. “No. Out the back. Take her to the airport. I’ll keep them busy.”

Kevin hesitated, but Eric’s tone left no space for argument.

Turning to Elise, Eric’s voice dropped, deliberate. “Go. They’ll see you off.” He wanted nothing more than to escort her himself, but he wasn’t about to risk an incident. Not today. Not on her departure.

His aunt and uncle could never know the truth, that the man they’d been chasing, “James Smith,” was him. And they would never see Elise again.

“All right, sickly brat! Keep hiding and my men will tear this door down!”

Elise shook her head, refusing to leave. “Come with me,” she urged, fear flickering in her voice.

Eric paused, glancing at Elise’s anxious face. “No. Go out the back. I’ll distract them.”

“Sir…” Kevin murmured, frowning with concern.

Eric moved closer to Elise. “Go safely. They’ll take you to the airport,” he said, even though he wanted nothing more than to take her himself.

He was certain his men could easily deal with Peyton and her two guards, they were seasoned professionals. But he refused to risk it. He wouldn’t involve Elise in any trouble, and he wouldn’t allow her special day to be ruined by chaos.

A heavy crash rattled the frame. The door was starting to give. Another blow followed.

“Harder!” Peyton barked.

On the third strike, the door burst inward, slamming into the wall.

“Eric! What, are you mute?!” Peyton stormed in with her guards.

The house appeared empty. Her eyes scanned, catching sight of a figure reclining on the sofa.

She smirked and closed in. Under the blanket, her nephew lay as if he had been asleep this entire time.

“Lazy brat! Get up!” Peyton smacked his leg with her purse.

Eric jolted upright, feigning confusion. “Aunt… why are you here?” He glanced toward the door. “I’m sure I locked it.”

“That’s exactly you! Stupid and weak.” Peyton assumed he was still recovering from the beating Jim and the bodyguards had given him days ago. “Why didn’t you answer when I called, huh?! See? My men can break your door in three kicks. It wouldn’t be hard to break you too.”

“I—I’m sorry, Aunt. I didn’t know you’d come. I-I didn’t hear your voice,” Eric replied. “Are you here to take my sister home?”

Peyton sat down on the sofa, pulling a cigarette from her bag. One of the guards lit it for her. She inhaled deeply, exhaling smoke through both her nose and mouth.

“You know, Eric, I’m in a foul mood today. So let’s cut the act. Elise is hiding here, isn’t she? That little brat disappeared from work, and I have a feeling she ran back here.”

Eric’s eyes widened. He moved closer to her. “Elise disappeared? Aunt, what happened? Where is she?”

She ignored him. “Search the house. Tear it apart if you have to.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Eric sat back, watching without a twitch as the guards moved. Minutes later, they returned empty-handed.

“I told you,” Eric said. “She isn’t here. You took her yesterday.”

Peyton didn’t look convinced. But she had her own doubts. If Jim had been destroyed so easily, Elise wouldn’t have escaped whoever had bled her accounts dry.

She ground the cigarette out on the table. “Where are the deeds to this house and the land?”

Eric’s eyes locked on hers. “Why?”

“I’m selling it.”

“If you sell this place,” Eric said, “where do you think I’ll live?”

“In a grave.” Peyton laughed, propping her feet on the table. “You’re dying anyway. Elise whored herself out trying to pay for your surgery. Now she’s gone. Which means you’re done.”

Eric’s expression didn’t waver, but his eyes sharpened, a slow heat building there.

“What? Not happy? Want another beating? Then keep your mouth shut.”

She signaled her men to keep searching. “If you were worth anything, maybe I’d let you stay. But you’re useless. Sickly trash.”

It didn’t take long for the documents to surface. Peyton took them, satisfied. “Don’t worry, nephew. I’ll try to make it to your funeral.”

Her laughter followed her out the door. She waved mockingly as she left him standing in the doorway, the frame splintered around him.

The moment she was gone, his lips curved, not with mirth, but with intent.

“Peyton… you’ll pay for everything you’ve taken. With everything you own.”