The Trillionaire Delivery Guy

Chapter 2

Liam stood in the dimly lit hotel hallway. He stared at the divorce papers in his hands. They felt heavier than they should have.

How long had she been carrying them around? Had she planned to blindside him over dinner after a good sex here?

Well, the surprise came early.

Without another moment of hesitation, he signed his name at the bottom. Each stroke of the pen felt like carving his own tombstone.

"Great!" Nina smirked as Liam finished the signature. "We’re done."

She took out her checkbook. She casually wrote down a few numbers and handed it to Liam.

"Take it. Leave with your mouth shut. Consider it my final act of kindness. You poor, broke loser."

"After all, I'm getting much richer than I've ever been! Oh god, how generous I am."

She tilted her head. Her eyes glinted with superiority.

Liam looked at her in disgust.

He took the check. He slowly tore it in half, then in half again, until it was nothing but shreds.

As the pale scraps of the check drifted down slowly, Liam spoke flatly.

"Keep it. I don’t want, and I don’t need your money."

Jake, standing to the side, let out a loud, mocking laugh.

"Liam, man, stop acting like you’ve got pride! You’ve been riding on her coattails for years!"

"That money? You think you’ll get another shot like this?"

"Be smart. Kiss our feet! Take what’s being handed to you!"

Jake reached out as he spoke. He gave Liam’s cheek a few light taps.

Not hard. Not painful. Just meant to humiliate.

Big mistake.

Liam’s eyes darkened.

Snap!

A twist of tendons. Jake’s smug expression shattered into raw agony. He shrieked like a pig being dragged to slaughter.

His wrist twisted at an unnatural angle. His face contorted in sheer pain.

"Liam, you crazy bastard! Do you know how powerful I am?!" Jake tried to push back, but Liam's hand was like a vice, making it impossible for him to struggle.

"Get off me! Fuck! I’ll wipe your face off from the city!"

Nina gasped sharply. Her hands flew to her mouth as she began to scream.

"Liam! Stop! Let him go! You’ll regret this for the rest of your life!"

Liam’s grip tightened for just a second longer. He let go only after hearing another pained yelp from Jake.

Jake stumbled back. He wheezed, his face pale as he cradled his hand.

Liam exhaled slowly. He remained eerily calm.

"You’re more worried about his wrist than everything we had?"

He let out a cold, humorless chuckle.

"Never stop surprising me, Nina."

Liam threw the pen on the floor. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

Five years.

Five. Damn. Years.

He wanted to believe it didn’t hurt, that he was above it. But that would be a lie.

The memories, the laughter, the sacrifices, the promises… they flashed through his mind like a broken film reel.

A past that no longer belonged to him.

Liam took a deep breath. He pulled out his phone. His fingers were steady as he dialed a number.

"I’m at the Imperial Hotel. Pick me up."

The voice on the other end practically vibrated with excitement.

"Young Master! You’re back? I’ll be there immediately!"

Twenty minutes later, the hotel entrance turned into a spectacle.

A fleet of Lamborghinis lined the driveway. Their engines purred like a pack of hungry predators.

Bystanders stared, frozen. They pulled out their phones to record the scene.

"What's happening? Are those limited Lambos? How much do they cost?!"

"Who is here? The head of the country?"

The next scene made their jaws drop even further.

Dozens of men in black suits stepped forward. They stood in perfect formation.

As Liam stepped out, they moved as one.

They bowed deeply to Liam. Their voices rang in unison.

"Welcome back, Young Master!"

Liam barely reacted. If anything, he frowned.

What the hell.

He thought Amnon knew he preferred to keep a low profile.

A sharp-dressed man in his fifties stepped forward. It was Amnon.

The man had graying hair and a steel-like posture. He carried the kind of presence that made grown men sweat bullets.

Liam sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Amnon, I told you to pick me up. Not throw a damn parade."

Amnon’s expression didn’t waver. Instead, he looked amused.

"Young Master, this is me keeping it low-profile." He chuckled.

"If it were up to me, there’d be fireworks, red carpets, and helicopters raining cash over Riverside City!"