The Secret King of River City: Heir to the Trillion-Dollar L

Chapter 5: The New Owner

"And they are currently moving toward the elevator, Ethan. You need to get out of there right now."

Ethan gripped the phone so hard the glass should have shattered. He looked at the closed elevator doors in the VIP lounge and then at the security guards fanning out around the room. Marcus and Stella were still being dragged away, their screams echoing down the hall, but the world had just gotten a lot smaller.

"Let them come, Jenkins," Ethan said. His voice was a flat line of ice. "I am done running from shadows. If they want a piece of the Avery name, they can come and try to take it from me."

"Young Master, this is not a game. These people do not care about your suits or your bank balance. They want you erased."

"Then tell Marcus and the team to tighten the perimeter. I am not leaving my hotel."

The night had been a blur of flashing lights and whispered warnings, but when the sun finally rose over River City, the atmosphere in the Grand Imperial had shifted from terror to a strange, tense silence.

By ten in the morning, the Diamond Lounge was bathed in golden light. The blood-red wine stain on the white tablecloth from the night before had been scrubbed away, replaced by a spread of lobster tails, caviar, and vintage champagne.

Marcus Thorne sat at the same table he had been dragged from just hours ago. He looked like a wreck, his eyes bloodshot and his expensive shirt wrinkled, but he was holding a glass of mimosa with a trembling hand. Beside him, Stella was reapplying her lipstick, her eyes darting around the room every time a server walked past.

"I told you, babe. It was just a technicality," Marcus said. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her. "My old man called the bank. There was a security breach on the whole Thorne account. That loser Ethan just happened to be there when the cards got flagged. It was a coincidence."

Stella snapped her lipstick shut and looked at him. "A coincidence, Marcus? He had ten men in suits bowing to him. He had a master key that worked for the whole building. You saw the way the manager looked at him. That was not a glitch."

"People can be bought, Stella. Ethan probably used whatever money he had left to hire some actors. It is a classic scam. He wanted to look big so you would regret leaving him. And look at you, you are shaking like a leaf. That means his little show worked."

"He did not look like he was acting, Marcus. He looked like he wanted to kill us."

"Let him try. My father is talking to the board of directors right now. By this afternoon, that delivery boy will be in a cell for fraud. Now, eat your brunch. This spread cost three thousand dollars and I am not letting it go to waste."

Stella picked up a fork, but her hand was shaking. "If he really is the heir, Marcus, we are dead. You saw what he did to your credit limit."

"It is a temporary hold, I am telling you! Stop whining. We are the Thornes. We own people like Ethan. He is a peasant who found a fancy coat. Just wait until the real power players show up. He is going to fold like a house of cards."

The heavy double doors of the lounge swung open with a bang. 

Thomas Sterling, the general manager, practically fell into the room. He was not wearing his tuxedo today. He was in a frantic rush, his face covered in a thin layer of sweat, clutching a tablet to his chest like a shield. Behind him, four security guards were moving fast, their faces grim.

"Everyone out!" Sterling shouted. His voice was cracking with pure panic. "The VIP lounge is being cleared immediately. Leave your plates, leave your drinks. Move!"

The handful of wealthy guests in the room started murmuring in protest. Marcus slammed his glass down on the table, the orange juice splashing over the side.

"What the hell is this, Sterling?" Marcus yelled. "I am in the middle of my meal! Do you have any idea how much I am paying for this table?"

Sterling did not even look at him. He was busy gesturing to the guards to start ushering people toward the exits. "I do not care about your table, Mr. Thorne! The building has just been sold in a flash transaction. The new owner is on his way up right now and he wants this entire floor vacated. No exceptions!"

"Sold?" Stella gasped, her fork clattering onto the plate. "The whole hotel?"

"In twenty minutes," Sterling said, his eyes wide. "A total buyout of every single share. The paperwork was signed five minutes ago. Now move, or my men will physically remove you!"

Marcus stood up, puffing out his chest. "You are not removing me anywhere. My father has a standing contract with this hotel. I am a Gold Tier member! I want to talk to the new owner. I will buy this floor myself if I have to."

Sterling finally looked at Marcus. The pity in the manager's eyes was so thick it was insulting. 

"Mr. Thorne, you do not seem to understand the situation. Your father's name is not worth the paper it is printed on this morning. The man who bought this hotel is not interested in your tier status. He is currently entering the building and he has given strict orders that the riff-raff be cleared out."

"Riff-raff?" Marcus's face turned a deep, ugly shade of purple. "I am Marcus Thorne! My family built half of this skyline! You are going to be fired for this, you little worm!"

"I have already been promoted, actually," Sterling said with a sharp, nervous laugh. "By the new owner. Now, guards, get them out of here."

The guards stepped forward, but Marcus shoved one of them back. "Touch me and I will sue this place into the ground! I am not moving until I see who this mystery buyer is. I bet it is just another corporate shark looking for a quick flip."

"It is not a shark, Marcus," a voice called out from the doorway.

The room went dead silent. 

Ethan Avery walked in. 

He was not wearing the charcoal suit from the night before. Today, he was in a deep navy blue jacket that fit him like a second skin, with a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He looked relaxed, powerful, and completely at home. Behind him, the man with the scar and six other guards formed a wall of muscle that made the hotel security look like children.

Stella's breath hitched in her throat. She looked at Ethan and for a second, she forgot to breathe. He did not look like the boy she had dated for three years. He looked like a king who had finally come home to claim his throne.

"Ethan?" Marcus spat the name like it was poison. "You again? How many times do I have to tell you to get lost? What, did you use your last bit of stolen cash to buy another suit? You are pathetic, man. Really. This is a private club."

Ethan ignored him. He walked over to the table and looked at the lobster tails and the champagne. He picked up a grape from a fruit bowl and tossed it into his mouth, chewing slowly.

"The lobster is a bit overcooked, Sterling," Ethan said. "Make sure the kitchen knows for the private party tonight."

"Of course, Mr. Avery! Right away, sir!" Sterling bowed so low his nose almost touched the floor.

Marcus looked between the two of them, his eyes bulging. "Mr. Avery? Sterling, what are you doing? This is a delivery boy! He is a loser!"

Ethan finally turned his gaze to Marcus. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. 

"I told you last night, Marcus. You are sitting in my chair. But I guess you have a hard time learning your lesson."

"Your chair? You think you bought this hotel? With what?" Marcus laughed, a high, desperate sound. "You probably do not even have a thousand dollars in your name! This is all a bluff. It has to be."

Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times and then turned it around so Marcus could see. 

"That is the ticker for the Thorne Construction Group," Ethan said. "Do you see that red line? That is your family's stock price. It just dropped twenty percent because the Avery Bank just called in every single one of your father's loans. You are not just broke, Marcus. You are a liability."

Marcus grabbed the phone, his hands shaking as he stared at the numbers. "This... this is impossible. My dad would have told me. He is in meetings!"

"He is in meetings with my lawyers," Ethan said. "And they are not being very nice to him."

Stella stood up, her face pale. She tried to force a smile, a sweet, manipulative expression she had used on Ethan a thousand times before. 

"Ethan, honey, let's just calm down," she said, her voice trembling. "We all said things we did not mean last night. It was a stressful night. Marcus was just joking around, weren't you, Marcus?"

Marcus did not answer. He was still staring at the phone, his mouth hanging open.

Stella took a step toward Ethan, reaching out to touch his arm. "I knew you were special, Ethan. I always knew you were meant for great things. I was just trying to motivate you, you know? I wanted you to reach your full potential."

Ethan looked at her hand as if it were a poisonous spider. He stepped back, his expression one of pure, unadulterated disgust.

"You wanted to motivate me?" Ethan asked. "By sleeping with a man who mocked my poverty? By calling the gift I worked sixty hours of overtime for trash? You have a very strange way of showing support, Stella."

"I was scared!" Stella cried, the tears starting to flow now. "I was tired of being poor, Ethan! Can you blame me for wanting a better life? But now that you have all this... we can finally be together! We can have the life we always dreamed of!"

Ethan let out a short, sharp laugh. "The life we dreamed of? Stella, I dreamed of a life with a woman who loved me when I had nothing. You are a woman who only loves the zeros in a bank account. You do not get to come along for the ride now that the bill is paid."

He turned to the guards. "Get them out. And I mean out. I do not want them in the lobby. I do not want them in the parking lot. If I see them on the property in five minutes, have them arrested for trespassing."

"Ethan, please!" Stella screamed as a guard grabbed her by the shoulder. "I love you! I made a mistake! Just give me one more chance!"

Marcus finally snapped. He lunged at Ethan, his face twisted with rage. "I will kill you! You ruined everything! You think you can just walk in here and take my life? I'll show you what a Thorne can do!"

Before Marcus could even get close, the guard with the scar moved. It was a blur of motion. He caught Marcus by the throat and slammed him against the glass window, the thick pane vibrating with the impact. Marcus gasped for air, his feet dangling off the ground.

"You should listen to the Young Master," the guard whispered into Marcus's ear. "It is much healthier for your continued survival."

The guard dropped Marcus like a sack of garbage. Marcus curled into a ball on the floor, coughing and sobbing. 

"Get them out of my sight," Ethan said, turning his back on them.

As the guards dragged the screaming Stella and the broken Marcus toward the elevator, the rest of the room was silent. Ethan stood by the window, looking out at the city. He felt the weight of the gold key in his pocket. It was a victory, but it felt cold.

Sterling approached him cautiously. "Sir? The guests have all been cleared. The lounge is yours. Would you like me to bring you the file on the Thorne acquisitions?"

"Not yet," Ethan said. "I want to talk to Jenkins. There was something he mentioned last night. About my father."

"The investigators are already on it, sir," Sterling said. "But there is a woman downstairs. She says she is your cousin. Clara Avery."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "I do not have any cousins. My father was an only child."

"She claims to have documents, sir. She says if you do not see her, the entire Avery empire will be tied up in litigation for the next decade."

Ethan turned around, his face a mask of iron. "Bring her up. Let's see how many more snakes are in this grass."

"She is already at the door, Young Master," a new voice said.

Ethan looked up. A woman in a sharp red suit was standing at the entrance of the lounge. she was beautiful, but her eyes were like shards of glass. She held a leather briefcase in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other.

"Nice place you have here, Ethan," Clara said, her voice smooth and dangerous. "It would be a shame if you lost it all before you even got to enjoy the view."

Ethan stepped forward, his guards tensing up behind him. "Who the hell are you?"

Clara smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. She took a slow sip of her drink and looked around the room. 

"I am the person who is going to tell you the truth about how your father really died," she said. "And why you were never supposed to survive that delivery run last night."

Ethan felt a chill go down his spine that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. "What are you talking about?"

Clara walked toward him, her heels clicking on the marble like a countdown. She leaned in close, her voice a low, lethal whisper.

"Did you really think the Thorne family was your biggest problem, Ethan? They are just the distraction. The people who killed your father are much closer to you than you think."

Ethan looked at her, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Tell me."

Clara tilted her head, a dark glint in her eyes. "Oh, I will tell you. But first, you might want to look at the news. It seems your little takeover of the hotel just triggered a very interesting reaction from the board."

Ethan grabbed his phone. A new headline was scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

AVERY CONGLOMERATE DECLARES EMERGENCY BOARD MEETING. UNKNOWN HEIR ACCUSED OF FRAUD AND IDENTITY THEFT.

"You see, Ethan?" Clara whispered. "The game hasn't even started yet."

Ethan looked at the screen and then back at the woman in the red suit. "Who did this?"

"The same person who is standing right behind you with a gun," Clara said.

Ethan started to turn, but the cold barrel of a pistol was already pressed against the back of his neck.

"Do not move, Young Master," a familiar voice growled.

Ethan froze. He knew that voice. It was the man who had been protecting him all night.

"Marcus?" Ethan whispered.

"Sorry, kid," the guard with the scar said. "But the pay is much better on the other side."

Ethan's eyes met Clara's. She was still smiling. 

"Now," Clara said, setting her glass down on the table. "Shall we talk about your inheritance, or would you like to say your last words to your father's ghost?"

Ethan's mind raced. He had the money, he had the title, but he was currently staring death in the face in the middle of his own lounge. 

"You think this ends here?" Ethan asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"I think it ends wherever I want it to," Clara replied. "Unless you have something more valuable to offer me than your life."

Ethan felt the pressure of the gun increase. He looked at the reflection in the window, seeing the guards he thought were his own standing perfectly still. 

"I have something," Ethan said. "Something my father hid before he died. Something that makes this hotel look like a toy."

Clara's eyes narrowed. "And what would that be?"

Ethan leaned back against the gun, his eyes fixed on hers. 

"The reason why you really came here," Ethan said. "The Avery Ledger."

The silence in the room was absolute. Clara's smile vanished, replaced by a look of intense, hungry greed. 

"Where is it?" she demanded.

Ethan managed a grim smile of his own. 

"If you want the ledger, Clara, you are going to have to do one thing for me first."

"And what is that?"

"Drop the gun and tell me…"