The Young Student Trillionaire

Chapter 8

Chance stepped out of the auction house with a satisfaction that warmed his chest like a vintage bourbon. The look on Mary Sander’s face—shock, confusion, humiliation—played on repeat in his mind like his favorite song. For years, they’d spat on his name and treated his mother like a blemish on society’s skin. But today? Today, he’d cracked their pride like porcelain.

But he wasn’t done with them yet. Except, he hadn’t decided yet what to do with them. That was the fun part. Deciding their punishment. But he knew this much: when he was through with the Sanders, their entire lineage would remember never to cross an O’Connor.

***

The Carlton Hotel glowed in the distance as he pulled into the valet area, drawing a few heads with the quiet confidence of his arrival. He stepped out, dressed to stun in his fitted charcoal suit, a single red rose in one hand, and in the other, a sleek leather bag—not the original exotic packaging the auction house had given him for the $3 million Louis Vuitton Black Widow. He’d tossed that on purpose. Let them think whatever they wanted.

Inside the hotel’s exclusive clubhouse, Chloe’s birthday party was already in full swing. A burst of music, glittering lights, and laughing guests filled the space. Champagne flutes clicked, and designer heels clicked louder on marble floors.

But amidst the glamor, Roy was busy being… Roy. Petty and predictable.

The projector screen in the hall flashed with grainy, embarrassing photos and short clips from Chance’s humiliation the other day. The ones from that god-awful street altercation and the moment he’d fallen into a puddle—courtesy of Roy and his crew.

Laughter echoed. Someone pointed. Another person mimicked Chance's fall dramatically.

Chloe wasn’t having it. She marched up to Roy with the grace of a queen and the bite of a lioness.

“Take it down,” she ordered. “Now. Or both of you are out.” She pointed at Vinita, who was by his side, being a minion.

Roy and Vinita stuttered but obeyed. Roy signalled to his guys to get the flashdrive containing the videos from the media guys. He muttered something under his breath, but Chloe wasn’t listening. Her attention was already shifting as four girls walked in like they owned the earth and its atmosphere.

Jessica. Nora. Sophie. Beauty.

The four “baddies” of the university. Each one a walking empire. These were the top school baddies, and every guy’s head turned to welcome them. 

Jessica had just signed with an international modeling agency and was now worth $15 million, not counting what she’d inherited from her father, as she was second-generation wealth like Roy, Rickon, Courtney, and Chloe. 

So also was Nora, who now not only had connections because of her parents but had connections in every political circle thanks to her internship at USA Broadcast. 

Sophie was the daughter of a high ranking congressman and was pure charm with a voice the music industry was begging for. 

And Beauty? Six million followers and counting. Brands tripped over themselves to get on her page, and she raked in nothing less than $5 million every year.

These girls were rich, beautiful, smart, exotic, and… cocky. They put themselves at a high standard and didn’t associate with anyone less. But they were always the life of every party, and it was shaping up to be so tonight.

They walked in like stars, soaking in admiration. Conversations stilled. Every guy adjusted their posture and hoped for a glance. They would literally bend over backwards if it meant getting any of these girls to speak to them, no matter how casually.

The girls went over to Chloe to congratulate her and thank her for the invite. All eyes watched.

Rickon was the first to make a concrete move, sliding over with practiced confidence to where the ladies gathered near Chloe’s table. He started his usual small talk, but it fell flatter than a deflated balloon. These girls had heard it all before. They didn’t even bother to grace him with bored looks.

Rickon wondered what he would do to get their attention.

Then Chance walked in.

Heads turned. Mouths paused mid-sip.

Chloe’s eyes widened, and a smile bloomed on her face. She dashed toward him and threw her arms around him. “You actually came!”

Chance returned her hug, his voice smooth. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

She pulled back and scanned him from head to toe, grinning suspiciously. “Okay, what happened to you? You look—hot. Like, seriously hot.”

He smiled, a quiet curve of his lips, and shrugged. “Just felt like a change.” He answered and handed her the rose. “Happy birthday, Chloe.”

The room tilted—girls from the psych faculty giggled, whispering, “Who’s that?” 

Vinita choked on her drink. “Is that Chance…?”

A brunette in a sequined top batted her lashes, cooing, “Hey, handsome.” 

Chance ignored them, letting Chloe lead him to her table. 

As Chloe led him to her table, the rest of the room buzzed. Whispers rose like steam. A lot of people didn’t recognize him; they wondered who this tall hottie was and where Chloe had found him. And those who managed to recognize him stared in disbelief. Was that the same guy from the photos? How did he clean up so well?

The baddies turned, their stares appraising—Jessica’s head tilted, “Damn,” she muttered. “Who’s that?”

Nora’s brow arched, Sophie’s lips parted, Beauty’s phone paused mid-scroll. 

“This is Chance,” Chloe said, pride in her voice, “my best friend.”

“Chloe’s been hiding you.” Sophie giggled, twirling a curl. “He’s so cute,” Sophie added, sipping her cocktail.

Jessica leaned forward, her voice a velvet purr. “Well, hello, Chance. You’re a surprise.” 

Nora’s eyes lingered, sharp and intrigued, while Beauty snapped a discreet pic, muttering, “He’s got aura.” 

Chance gave a small nod. “Pleasure to meet you all.”

He didn’t gawk, didn’t fawn, didn’t try to impress. That made him more interesting than anyone else in the room.

Rickon, burning with envy, jumped on the moment. He clapped mockingly and called out, “Hey, Chance! How’s your cheek feeling? Still stings from that slap I gave you this morning at the bank?”

The room hushed.

Chance said nothing. He didn’t flinch, didn’t smile.

Rickon, emboldened by the silence, continued, “Saw you at Eagleswood looking like a rejected extra from a drama series. What were you doing there, huh? Looking for janitor roles? I heard you lost your job after what happened at Roy’s party.”

Some people snorted. The laughter was bubbling again.

But Chloe tilted her head and shot Rickon a look. “And what were you doing at Eagleswood? Last I checked, they don’t entertain just anyone.”

That was her mistake.

Rickon lit up like a firecracker; it was the moment he’d been waiting for.