The Rise Of The Orphan Billionare

Chapter 4: A New Life

“I am not getting in that car,” Nelson snapped, his voice raw with suspicion. His fists tightened at his side. “Maybe you guys are just kidnappers. But let me save you the trouble —I have nothing to offer. I’m just a poor boy living with an old woman who I call my grandmother. She’s sick, and the only person I’ve got in this world. If you think I’m worth ransoming, you’re wasting your time.”

The man in the navy blue suit —sharp-eyed, calm as stone— did not flinch. Instead, he slipped a hand into his coat and drew out a sleek black card and a silver-edged business card. Both glinted under the dim streetlights.

“If you insist, Young Master…” the man’s voice was steady, respectful, almost rehearsed. He placed both cards into Nelson’s palm, pressing them down gently as though delivering something sacred. “Here’s my card. And this—” he tapped the black one “—contains thirty billion dollars. Thirty. Billion.”

Nelson blinked. His breath caught. He almost laughed in disbelief, thinking it was a sick prank. “Thirty… what?”

“Thirty billion, Nelson Cassius,” the man repeated, not blinking once. “You can use it whenever you wish. The funds are yours. No strings attached.”

For a second, the world tilted. Nelson swayed, his knees weak, as though the sheer weight of those words could crush him. Thirty billion. He couldn’t even comprehend a million. He barely scraped together five dollars an hour at the bakery. Thirty billion felt like a number from another universe.

The man gave him a final, deliberate look. “If you need anything,” he said, raising his pinky and thumb in the universal call sign, “just call me. And remember —the Grand Master can’t wait to see you.”

Then, without another word, the stranger turned and entered the sleek black Mercedes-Benz S-Class waiting at the curb. The door closed with a soft thud. The car pulled away, its taillights glowing like burning rubies before fading into the distance.

And Nelson was left standing under the flickering streetlight, cards in hand, his heart hammering so loud it hurt.

He looked down at them, his reflection warping in the glossy surface of the bank card. Silver letters etched his name in bold, flawless design: NELSON CASSIUS.

For a long, breathless moment, he couldn’t move. Couldn’t even breathe.

Then his chest shuddered, and a ragged whisper escaped his lips. “Is this… a dream? Am I dreaming?”

The words barely carried into the night. His own voice sounded foreign.

Nelson’s throat tightened as he stared at the card like it contained every answer he had ever prayed for. In that small, cold rectangle lay the life he had never dared to imagine —freedom from poverty, a chance to save his grandmother, a chance to stand on equal ground with people like Kyler and Rachel. A chance to never be humiliated again.

If it was real.

But the moment the warmth of hope began to bloom in his chest, something darker snuffed it out. Like a blade twisting into him, Rachel’s voice came back to him: “Someone like me could never like you… you’re no use to me.”

His stomach turned. His hand clenched tighter around the card until his knuckles whitened. Not from joy—but from pain. From betrayal.

“Trusting her was my biggest mistake,” he muttered bitterly.

He shoved the card into his pocket and walked home, his steps heavy and uneven. The night was quiet, yet his mind was anything but. Questions hammered against his skull: Who was that man? Why call him Young Master? Who was this “Grand Master” waiting for him? And why.. why would anyone give a broken nobody like him thirty billion dollars?

The silence of the streets only amplified the noise in his head.

But every thought evaporated the moment he stepped through the old wooden door of his grandmother’s house.

There she was.

On the floor. Gasping for air.

“Grandma!” Nelson’s voice cracked like thunder as he rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside her frail body. His hands shook as he grabbed her shoulders. “No, no, no… not now, please… breathe, please!”

His eyes darted wildly, searching. The inhaler. Where was it? His heart raced like it was tearing out of his chest until—there. Her worn-out handbag sat on the couch. He tore it open, rummaged through the clutter of old receipts and medicine packets, and found the inhaler.

“Here, Grandma —here!” He pressed it into her trembling hands. She lifted it weakly to her lips and took a shaky breath, then another.

Slowly, painfully, the sound of air began to fill her lungs again. The wheezing eased. Her chest rose and fell, steadier this time.

Nelson let out a ragged sigh of relief and collapsed beside her, sweat dampening his forehead. His whole body trembled. If she had stopped breathing while he wasn’t here —if she had left this world without him at her side —he would never forgive himself. Ever.

She turned her weary eyes toward him, watery yet sharp with worry. “Where have you been, my young prince?”

Her voice was soft, but it struck like lightning.

Nelson froze.

He had never lied to her. Not once in his entire life. But now… now he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. How could he tell her about Rachel’s betrayal? About the fight, the arrest, the mysterious man, and the card burning a hole in his pocket? How could her fragile heart bear it?

He swallowed hard. “Nothing, Grandma,” he whispered, forcing a smile. “Just… a long day. You need rest now. Please don’t forget your medicine again.”

He helped her onto the couch, covered her with the faded blanket, and kissed her forehead gently.

But his eyes —wet and broken— betrayed the storm inside.

He stepped outside before the tears could betray him further. The night air was sharp, cold enough to bite his skin, but nothing compared to the ache in his chest.

He pulled the card out of his pocket. Under the streetlight, it gleamed—a black mirror reflecting his haunted face. Heavy. Cold. Powerful.

“Maybe…” he whispered, voice trembling, “maybe this is exactly what I need.”

Not just for himself. For her. For the woman who had given everything for him. Who had raised him when the world turned its back. Who had no one but him.

His hand shook as he stared at the card. Hope and fear wrestled inside him. The life he dreamed of was right there, etched in silver on black. But was it salvation… or a trap?

His breath came out in a long, shaky sigh.

“Was this… the right time? Am I ready?”