The Trillionaire No One Saw Coming

Chapter 9

Vincent stepped into the hospital hallway, his steps slow, silent, heavy.

Everything around him looked too clean. Too quiet. Too expensive.

The private wing smelled like antiseptic and money. No nurses. No patients. Just glass, gold trim, and cold air.

He stopped in front of Room 101. Heart pounding. Palms sweaty.

He pushed the door open.

There she was.

Aria.

His sister.

Lying on the bed like a ghost wrapped in silk.

Machines beeped. Tubes ran from her arms. Her eyes were closed. Her lips pale. Her chest rising, falling, like she was breathing in a dream.

Vincent stepped closer. Every part of him shaking.

She looked nothing like the little girl in his memories. But he knew it was her. He could feel it in his bones.

He sat beside her. Swallowed hard. Tried to speak. Couldn't.

Then the door opened.

A man walked in, tall and sharp in a navy suit. Silver watch. Shiny shoes. Eyes cold.

He didn’t even look at Vincent.

He walked straight to the bed and stopped.

Stared at Aria.

His jaw tightened.

Then he cursed under his breath.

“Still sleeping?” he muttered. “Damn girl should’ve just died with the others.”

Vincent’s head snapped up. “What did you just say?”

The man blinked, just noticing him. His expression twisted into surprise—then irritation.

“Who the hell are you?”

Before Vincent could answer, the door flew open again.

Macul stormed in like a loaded gun. “Marcus.”

The man straightened instantly. “Macul. I didn’t realize—”

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” Macul said, voice hard. “Especially not in this room.”

The man smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I was checking in. That’s all.”

Vincent stood. “Who is this?”

Macul stepped between them. “Young master, meet your uncle. Marcus Hale. Your father’s cousin.”

Vincent froze.

His eyes shifted from Macul to the man standing in front of him. The same man who just wished his sister dead.

His own blood.

Marcus’s smile faded. “Wait. He’s Vincent?”

Macul said nothing.

Marcus’s eyes widened slightly. “I… I didn’t know.”

“Clearly,” Vincent said coldly. “Is that how you talk about your niece when no one’s watching?”

Marcus glanced at Aria, then back at Vincent. “You’ve been gone for twenty years. Don’t pretend to understand how this family works.”

“I don’t need to understand,” Vincent said. “I heard enough.”

Marcus scoffed. “And what? You’re here to play CEO now? You think some bloodline makes you ready to run an empire?”

Macul didn’t flinch. “You’ve been doing a fine job trying to steal it.”

Marcus’s face twitched.

“You’ve been moving shares,” Macul continued. “Replacing executives. Shifting funds. All under the board’s nose. You were waiting for Aria to die.”

Vincent’s hands clenched.

“You really thought you’d get away with it,” he muttered.

Marcus’s voice dropped low. “You think just showing up gives you power? You’re still just a poor kid with a new suit.”

Vincent stepped forward. “And you’re just a snake with a cane.”

Macul raised a hand. “That’s enough. Marcus, leave. Now.”

Marcus stared at Vincent a second longer. Then turned on his heel and walked out, silent, shoulders stiff.

The door shut behind him.

Silence.

Vincent looked back at Aria. Her face was still. Peaceful.

“I swear,” he whispered. “I won’t let him touch anything else that belongs to this family.”

Macul stepped closer. “Then it’s time.”

Vincent didn’t blink. “Take me to the company.”

“You don’t want to come in as the heir yet. Are you sure?”

“I want to see what they’ve done,” Vincent said. “From the inside. Quietly. Closely. I want to see who’s loyal and who’s selling us out.”

Macul nodded once. “Then you’ll go in as Mr. V. Kingsley.”

Vincent looked at Aria one last time.

He didn’t say goodbye.

He was done leaving.

Now he was coming for everything.

***

The black car was quiet.

Vincent sat in the back, eyes fixed on nothing, hands clenched on his lap.

His sister’s face wouldn’t leave his mind. That breathing. That stillness. That monster of an uncle standing over her like he was waiting for her to take her last breath.

His jaw tightened.

Macul sat in the front seat, watching him through the rearview mirror.

“He’s already inside, isn’t he?” Vincent said finally. Voice low. Controlled.

Macul didn’t pretend. “Yes.”

“How deep?”

Macul’s fingers tapped the steering wheel. “Most of the old board. Three key executives. A legal advisor. They think he’s the last Maxine standing.”

Vincent laughed under his breath. Cold. Sharp.

“And now he thinks I'm just another body in a hospital room.”

Macul turned around. “Exactly.”

Vincent’s eyes narrowed. “Then it’s time I make my move. But not as the long-lost heir. Not yet.”

Macul waited.

“I want to go in clean. Unbiased. Let them think I’m just another investor looking to buy into the future. Let them smile at me while they sell themselves out.”

“And when they finally see who you are?”

Vincent leaned back, eyes dark. “It’ll be too late.”