The Rise Of The Quintillionaire

Chapter 7

Mr. Higgins stopped walking. He did not look at Marcus. He did not listen to Marcus's loud, angry orders. 

Instead, the small manager walked right past Marcus. He stepped into the empty space in front of Alex. 

Slowly, Mr. Higgins bowed. He bent deeply at the waist, showing deep, total, and absolute respect to the man in the black suit. It was the kind of bow a servant gives to an emperor. 

"I am so incredibly sorry for the noise and the mess, Mr. Carter," Mr. Higgins whispered, keeping his head down. "We are completely ready to serve you. Whatever you need, sir."

Marcus's jaw dropped open. His eyes bugged out of his head. "Higgins! What are you doing? Are you crazy? Stand up! I told you to throw him out! I rented this room!"

Mr. Higgins finally stood up straight. He slowly turned his head to look at Marcus. The fear in the manager's eyes was completely gone when he looked at Marcus. Now, there was only cold pity. 

"Mr. Vance," Mr. Higgins said clearly, making sure his voice carried across the silent ballroom. "You do not understand the situation. I cannot throw this man out."

"Why not?" Marcus screamed. 

"Because, Mr. Vance, Mr. Carter now owns this hotel," Mr. Higgins explained softly. 

The guests in the crowd gasped. The sound of sudden whispering filled the room. Lisa covered her mouth with both of her hands, her eyes wide with total shock. 

Marcus blinked rapidly. "What? That... that is impossible. This hotel is worth ninety million dollars!"

"Mr. Carter owns the Grand Plaza Hotel," Mr. Higgins continued, his voice steady and firm. "He owns the ground it sits on. He owns the parking structures. He owns the holding company that employs your entire board of directors. And, as of five minutes ago, Mr. Carter owns the private bank that holds every single one of your real estate business loans."

The room spun around Marcus. He felt dizzy. 

"That means," Mr. Higgins finished, pointing a finger toward the front doors, "that you do not have any power here, Mr. Vance. Your party is over. You are trespassing on Mr. Carter's private property."

Marcus shook his head violently from side to side. His brain refused to accept the truth. His huge ego was fighting for its life. 

"Lies!" Marcus screamed, his voice echoing off the golden ceiling. "You are all lying! This is a trick! It is a bluff! You are nothing but a dead, weak loser, Alex!"

His anger completely took over his mind. He forgot about the billionaires watching. He forgot about the cameras outside. He only wanted to smash the calm, freezing face of the man who was ruining his perfect life. 

Marcus raised his right hand high into the air. He curled his fingers into a tight, angry fist. He stepped forward, ready to punch Alex directly in the face. 

"I will teach you a lesson, you fake!" Marcus roared. 

His hand started to swing down fast. 

But Marcus never even came close to touching Alex. 

In the blink of an eye, a massive shadow stepped out from the line of guards. It was one of the elite, black-suited tactical men. The guard moved with terrifying, blinding speed, like a striking snake. 

Before Marcus's fist could fall, the giant guard grabbed Marcus by the throat with one hand, and grabbed his swinging arm with the other. 

With a sudden, brutal twist, the guard lifted Marcus completely off his feet. 

BAM!

The guard slammed Marcus violently onto the hard marble floor. 

Marcus screamed in bright, hot pain. His face hit the cold stone hard, right in a puddle of spilled champagne. 

The heavy tactical guard pressed his thick knee deep into the middle of Marcus's back, pinning him to the ground completely. 

Marcus tried to wiggle and fight, but he was trapped under a mountain of heavy muscle. He looked like a helpless bug squashed on the floor. 

Alex did not flinch during the sudden violence. He did not step back. He slowly, calmly walked forward. 

Marcus was wearing a custom, solid gold Rolex watch on his left wrist. The watch was covered in diamonds. It had cost Marcus eighty thousand dollars, bought with the money he stole from Alex's life insurance. 

Alex stopped walking. He stood directly over Marcus. 

Slowly, Alex lifted his expensive, black leather shoe. He placed his heavy heel directly onto the face of the gold Rolex watch. 

Alex looked down at his former best friend. He looked down at the man who had left him to burn in the dark warehouse. 

Alex pressed his weight down. 

CRACK!

The thick glass of the Rolex shattered into a hundred tiny pieces. The expensive metal frame bent and crushed flat under Alex's heavy shoe. 

Marcus groaned loudly in fear, pain, and total humiliation, his cheek pressed flat against the wet, dirty marble floor. The great, powerful billionaire was now lying in the dirt, exactly where he belonged. 

Alex kept his foot on the broken watch. He looked around the silent, terrified room, and then down at the broken man on the floor. 

"Evict him," Alex ordered softly.