The Trillionaire No One Saw Coming

Chapter 10

The car rolled to a stop in front of the building.

Vincent stepped out, adjusted his cuffs, and looked up.

Maxine Corporation.

The headquarters towered over the city like a crown made of glass and steel. A hundred and twenty floors of pure power. Sleek black windows. Silver accents that shimmered in the sun. Security guards posted like statues at every corner.

People didn’t walk past this building. They paused. They stared. Some even took pictures.

It wasn’t just a building.

It was a statement.

The kind of place where billion-dollar deals were made before breakfast. The kind of building whose monthly rent could wipe out a country’s debt. The kind of building where failure didn’t survive past the lobby.

Vincent walked through the glass doors.

The lobby alone looked like it belonged in a palace. Diamond-cut chandeliers hung from a ceiling so high it could fit a private jet. The floors sparkled like melted silver. Walls were lined with textured marble and gold-plated patterns.

A water fountain stood at the center—crystal-clear, shaped like the company’s logo. Around it, men in sharp suits and women in sleek heels moved like they were late to something important. Because in here, everyone always was.

Vincent’s presence shifted the air.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t have to.

Macul had already made sure they knew who he was.

The receptionist looked up from her glass desk, eyes slightly widened. “Good morning, Mr. Kingsley. Welcome to Maxine Corp.”

Vincent nodded once.

“Your private elevator is ready, sir.”

She handed him a platinum key card. Vincent took it without a word.

At the end of the hall, a set of double elevator doors opened—sleek black metal with a fingerprint scanner built into the panel. No buttons. No numbers. Just a glowing blue pad that lit up when he approached.

He placed his thumb on it.

It scanned. Approved.

The doors slid open with a soft chime.

The inside was next-level. Diamond-inlaid paneling. Mirrors that reflected crystal-clear. A screen lit up:

“Welcome, Mr. V. Kingsley.”

Vincent stood in silence as the elevator shot upward.

Floor after floor blurred past the glass.

But he wasn’t just going up.

He was entering the battlefield to take out Marcus’s poeple one by one.

Inside the executive conference room, twelve board members sat around a long mahogany table, murmuring with mild interest as Vincent entered.

Some didn’t bother to stand.

Others didn’t even look up.

An older man with slick gray hair and a gold tie glanced at Vincent, then leaned back in his chair with a lazy grin.

“That the investor?” he said to the man beside him. “Looks like a fresh college dropout with a rich uncle.”

A few chuckles followed.

Macul stood at the head of the table. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mr. V. Kingsley. He’s taken interest in our internal restructuring. I suggest you give him your attention.”

Mr. Clive—the same smug man with the gold tie—snorted. “Internal restructuring? Or internal babysitting? We don’t need rich kids playing CEO here.”

Vincent smiled slowly, took off his sunglasses, and placed them neatly on the table.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Clive.”

Clive leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Let me guess. Daddy gave you some cash, you bought a seat at the table, and now you want to tell us how to run an empire?”

Vincent opened the leather folder, calm as a surgeon.

“Actually,” he said, flipping the first page, “I wanted to show you how you’ve been stealing from it.”

The room went silent.

Clive’s smirk faltered. “Excuse me?”

Vincent pushed the folder down the table. “Page two shows a fund transfer from a fake consulting firm—CGR Solutions. Registered under your wife’s maiden name.”

Clive’s fingers twitched.

“Page four shows another,” Vincent continued. “Twelve million dollars siphoned through dummy accounts over two years. You were sloppy.”

Murmurs exploded across the table.

“What the hell—?”

“Is this real?”

“How did he get this data?”

Clive shot to his feet. “This is slander! You have no authority here!”

Vincent stood slowly.

“Sit down, Mr. Clive,” he said, voice low but razor sharp. “Or would you prefer I call the Financial Crimes Unit?”

“You little punk—!”

Security entered the room.

“Sir,” one guard said, “We’ve received clearance to escort Mr. Clive off the premises immediately. The audit team is already at his office.”

Clive turned on Macul. “You’re letting this happen?! He’s just a child with money!”

Macul adjusted his glasses. “He’s more than that. Much more.”

Clive thrashed as the guards dragged him toward the door. “This isn’t over! You’ll regret this! All of you!”

Vincent watched him go, then turned back to the board.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the NDA they’d asked him to sign upon arrival.

In one smooth motion, he tore it in half and let the pieces fall to the floor.

“You don’t know who I am,” he said, voice steady. “But you will. Soon.”

Then he walked out, leaving a trail of stunned silence behind him.

***

The hallway outside was quiet, sunlight spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Vincent slid his sunglasses back on, his footsteps echoing against the marble floor.

Then a voice stopped him.

“Well, well…”

He turned.

A tall woman leaned against the wall, legs crossed, arms folded. Red lips. Sharp eyes. Curves that could bankrupt kingdoms. Her presence was magnetic, bold, unapologetic.

She was in the meeting earlier, had only stared at him without uttering a word.

“You don’t look like the type who plays by the rules,” she said.

Vincent narrowed his eyes slightly. “And you are?”

She pushed off the wall and sauntered toward him, heels clicking like a countdown.

“Laila Kings,” she said. “CEO of Kings Enterprises. And the woman who owns this building.”

Vincent raised a brow. “The hotel tycoon.”

She smiled. “And fashion. And luxury assets. And soon… tech.” Her eyes flicked over him. “I like men who walk into boardrooms and burn them down. That was fun to watch.”

Vincent gave a faint smirk. “I wasn’t trying to entertain.”

“Shame. You’re good at it.”

She circled him slowly. “You have power in your walk… danger in your silence. But there’s something else.”

Vincent stayed still. “What’s that?”

“You’re hiding something.”

He said nothing.

Laila stopped in front of him. “Secrets don’t scare me. I collect them.”

“I’m not interested in being collected.”

She grinned. “Oh, I like you already.”

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, then slipped it back into her purse.

“Well, Mr. Kingsley… let’s have dinner sometime.”

Vincent folded his arms. “You usually flirt with strangers in glass towers?”

“Only the dangerous ones.”

She winked.

And walked away.

Vincent watched her disappear around the corner.

Macul appeared beside him a second later, silent as ever.

“She’s a powerful ally,” he said quietly. “And a dangerous enemy.”

Vincent’s gaze stayed fixed.

“I don’t need allies.”

He turned and walked on.