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

Chapter 7: The Thorne Collapse

"Jenkins, are you listening to this?" Ethan asked, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"I am, Young Master. The message you received was traced to a secure terminal inside the Avery Tower. It seems your return has stirred the hornet's nest faster than we anticipated."

Ethan looked at the screen of his phone again, the text glowing like a threat in the dim light of the elevator lobby. "They want a war? I will give them one. But first, I have a mess to clean up in my own house."

He turned to Thomas Sterling, the manager, who was still trembling. "Sterling, what is the status of the Thorne party?"

"They are currently being escorted toward the main entrance, sir. Mr. Thorne is making quite a scene. He is demanding to pay his bill to prove he still has the funds."

Ethan let out a cold, sharp laugh. "Is he now? Let him try. Jenkins, is the strike ready?"

"The Avery National Bank has officially frozen every line of credit associated with the Thorne Construction Group, sir. Their secondary accounts were flagged for suspicious activity thirty seconds ago. As of right now, Marcus Thorne does not have enough liquid cash to buy a pack of gum."

"Perfect. Sterling, take me to the lobby. I want to watch the moment his world stops spinning."

The elevator doors hissed open on the ground floor. The lobby was packed with River City's elite, all of them whispering and pointing at the commotion near the velvet ropes. Marcus Thorne was screaming at a young receptionist, his face a bright, ugly shade of red. Stella stood behind him, clutching her designer bag as if it could save her, her eyes darting around in a panic.

"I said run the card again!" Marcus roared, slamming a black credit card onto the marble counter. "It is a titanium preferred account! There is no limit! Your machine is broken, you stupid girl!"

"I am so sorry, Mr. Thorne," the receptionist stammered, her voice shaking. "It says 'Account Restricted.' It is not the machine. The bank has blocked the transaction."

"That is impossible!" Marcus yelled. "I just used it an hour ago! Do you know who I am? My father could buy this entire block just to fire you!"

"Actually, Marcus, your father is currently in a very long meeting with a lot of people in suits," Ethan said, stepping into the light of the lobby.

The crowd went silent. The security detail fanned out behind Ethan, creating a wall of black suits and stone-cold expressions.

Marcus turned around, his eyes bulging. "You! You did this! I don't know how you hacked the system, you little thief, but you are going to prison for this!"

"I didn't hack anything," Ethan said, walking slowly toward the counter. "I just looked at the books. It turns out the Thorne family has been living on Avery credit for years. And I decided I didn't want to be your landlord anymore."

"You’re lying!" Marcus lunged forward, but Marcus the guard stepped in his path, his massive hand landing on Marcus Thorne’s chest like a lead weight. 

"Stay back," the guard growled.

Ethan looked at the receptionist. "How much does he owe for the stay?"

"With the suite, the vintage wine, and the property damage to the carpet, it comes to eighteen thousand dollars, Mr. Avery."

Ethan looked at Marcus, a mocking smile on his lips. "Eighteen grand. That is a lot of pizza deliveries, right, Marcus? But for a big shot like you, it should be pocket change. Go ahead. Pay the lady."

Marcus grabbed another card from his wallet, his fingers shaking so hard he almost dropped it. "Try this one. It is my private savings account. Run it!"

The receptionist took the card with a hesitant hand and swiped it. A sharp, high-pitched beep echoed through the lobby.

"Declined," she whispered.

The crowd began to titter. Someone in the back laughed out loud. The sound seemed to hit Marcus like a physical blow. He looked around, his bravado crumbling. 

"Wait, I have another one," Marcus stammered, fumbling with his wallet. "I have cash! I have... I have..."

He pulled out a wad of bills, but as he counted them, his face went pale. He only had about four hundred dollars in cash. 

"Is that it?" Ethan asked, leaning against the counter. "The great Marcus Thorne is short on his bill? That is embarrassing. I thought you said a man without money was a servant?"

Stella stepped forward, her face a mask of desperate pleading. "Ethan, please. This is a mistake. Marcus is just having some trouble with his accounts. You don't have to do this in front of everyone. Think about our history!"

"Our history ended when you told me to leave the silver necklace in the trash, Stella," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a whisper that felt like a razor blade. "I am just following your lead. I am being realistic. And the reality is, you chose a man who is currently a beggar in my lobby."

"I was just trying to survive!" Stella cried, reaching for his hand. "I didn't know you were like this! If I had known, I never would have left!"

"That is the point, Stella," Ethan said, pulling his arm away with a look of pure disgust. "You only love the crown. You never loved the man. And you will never touch a cent of this money."

Ethan turned to the manager. "Sterling, since Mr. Thorne cannot pay his bill, I believe that is a violation of hotel policy, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir. It is considered theft of services. We usually call the police immediately."

"Then do it," Ethan said. "And make sure the press gets a good look at him being led out in zip-ties. I want the whole city to know that the Thorne family is officially out of business."

"Ethan, no!" Marcus screamed as two uniformed officers entered through the front doors. "You can't do this! My dad will kill you! I'll kill you!"

"Your dad is currently being processed for bank fraud, Marcus," Ethan said, checking his watch. "You can share a cell. It will be a nice family reunion."

The police grabbed Marcus by the arms, forcing them behind his back. The sound of the handcuffs clicking shut was the loudest thing in the room. Marcus started to sob, his knees giving out as he was dragged toward the glass doors. 

Stella stood frozen, looking at the man she had traded her life for. He looked pathetic. He looked small. He looked exactly like the loser he had accused Ethan of being.

She turned back to Ethan, her eyes filling with tears. "Ethan, where am I supposed to go? All my things are in his car. My phone is on his plan. I have nothing!"

"You have exactly what you deserve," Ethan said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single five-dollar bill. He dropped it on the floor, right at her feet, just as Marcus had done to him the night before.

"There is your tip, Stella. Use it to call a cab. Just make sure you don't drip on the marble on your way out."

The crowd erupted in hushed whispers as Stella looked down at the five-dollar bill. She looked like she wanted to vomit. She looked at Ethan one last time, hoping for a spark of the boy who had loved her, but all she saw was the cold, hard eyes of the Avery heir.

"Security, clear the lobby," Ethan commanded. "I have a board meeting to attend."

He turned away, walking toward the private elevator bank. Jenkins was still on the line.

"That was quite a performance, Young Master. But the real fight is just beginning. The board members are already gathered at the Avery Tower. They have heard the rumors about a secret heir, and they are not happy."

"Who is leading them?" Ethan asked, stepping into the elevator.

"A man named Silas Thorne. Marcus's uncle. He holds a significant minority stake and he has been trying to take control of the company since your father's passing. He is the one who sent that message."

Ethan felt a cold fire ignite in his chest. "So the Thornes are deeper in this than I thought. They didn't just want to humiliate me. They wanted the whole empire."

"It goes deeper than that, sir. Your father's accident... Silas Thorne was the lead contractor on that factory site. The safety reports were falsified."

Ethan gripped the brass railing of the elevator. "So it wasn't just greed. it was murder."

"It appears so. But you must be careful. Walking into that boardroom is like walking into a lion's den. They will challenge your identity. They will challenge the will. They will try to tear you apart before you can even take your seat."

"Let them try," Ethan said, the elevator chiming as it reached the top floor. "I have spent three years being the nail. I am ready to be the hammer."

He stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway that led to the executive suites. The walls were lined with portraits of the Avery men who had come before him. At the very end of the hall, the massive double doors of the boardroom stood guarded by two men he didn't recognize.

As Ethan approached, the doors swung open. A long table of elderly men and women in dark suits looked up, their expressions ranging from shock to pure hostility. 

At the head of the table sat a man with white hair and eyes like a snake. Silas Thorne.

"So," Silas said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. "The delivery boy has arrived. You certainly look the part, kid. But looking like an Avery and being one are two very different things."

Ethan didn't stop until he reached the other end of the table. He didn't wait for an invitation to sit. He stood right in front of Silas, leaning down until they were eye-to-eye.

"I am not here to play games, Silas," Ethan said. "I am here to take back what you stole from my father."

Silas laughed, a dry, hollow sound. "You think a piece of paper and a fancy suit make you the king? This board doesn't recognize you. We have already voted to void the secret succession clause. You are a nobody, Ethan. And by the time you leave this room, you will be back on that bicycle."

Ethan pulled a thick, leather-bound folder from his jacket and tossed it onto the table. "That is the forensic audit of the Thorne Construction Group. It shows exactly how much you have been stealing from the Avery accounts for the last ten years. And it also shows the payments you made to the safety inspector at my father's factory."

The room went deathly silent. Silas’s smirk flickered for a second, his eyes darting to the folder.

"That is a forgery," Silas hissed. 

"Is it?" Ethan asked. "Because the District Attorney doesn't think so. They are currently downstairs waiting for my signal. I can give it now, or we can do this the easy way."

"You think you can threaten me?" Silas stood up, his face contorting with rage. "I built this city! You are nothing but a mistake your father made in a moment of weakness!"

Ethan leaned in closer, his voice a whisper that only Silas could hear.

"My father's biggest mistake wasn't me, Silas. It was trusting a snake like you. But I am an Avery. And we don't just kill snakes. We…"