The Zillionaire's wrath

CHAPTER 5: The Heir to the Throne

I flinched, the reality of my situation finally sinking in. "Why would anyone be after me? I have nothing!"

Steve sighed, a sound of profound frustration at me. "Haven't you been listening? You are no longer nothing. You are the heir to a fortune that dwarfs the GDP of most nations! Of course, it only makes you a target now, Henry. You can destroy so many men with a snap of your finger if you feel like it. So, you must be protected at all costs."

Protected? Me? Everything was moving so fast!

He rose to his feet, his stature imposing. I stood up with him, my hands clenching at my sides as I struggled to register everything.

It didn’t seem worth it. My normal life didn’t offer any danger and I preferred that to…this.

 "Look, mister. I don't want this. I’m not cut out for it. Everything you’re saying is absurd. My father died penniless. He worked until his back broke and left me with nothing but debt and a heavy heart. If this dynasty existed, why didn't he say anything?"

"Because by the time he understood the true nature of the power he held, he was already too weak to wield it," Steve replied sternly, his eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp heat. "Listen to me, Henry. Your father sealed those documents with a biometric lock because he knew you were the only one who could open it. You were born for this. You are the heartbeat of a massive, dormant empire. Without you, it remains just a memory; with you, it becomes a force that can reshape the world."

The intensity in his gaze left me breathless. I looked around the room, the opulence suddenly feeling heavy, like a cage that threatened to entrap me. "I need to go home and think about this."

Steve smiled thinly, his eyes gleaming with pity. "What home, Henry? The one you were locked out of tonight?"

My stomach twisted. He was right.

"The moment you walk out that door," he continued, pacing toward me, "there are predators waiting. They want your fingerprints, your DNA, your very life, just to gain access to that vault. They won't care if you live or die once they have what they want. So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to run back to a life that treats you like trash and watch someone else steal your birthright? Or are you going to accept who you are and face the trials that come with real power?"

I felt the walls closing in. He wasn't offering a choice; he was offering a survival strategy. I took a deep breath and for the first time, I really thought about it. All that wealth, just sitting and waiting for a disgraced pauper to inherit it all.

 I have suffered enough. If I really had something like that to my name, why let it waste away? My chest tightened when I looked at him and I nodded,  "Let's go to that island."

Steve’s grin was immediate and terrifying. "First, you need a makeover."

I frowned, a wave of hesitation made my heart skip. "A makeover? What am I, a princess in a fairy tale?"

He shook his head, looking me up and down. "Oh no, Henry. You’re the newest fucking zillionaire in New York. We can't have you looking like a pauper."

I had never worn a suit in my life, let alone one that cost more than my entire education. The three-piece ensemble laid out on the bed fit like a second skin. When I stepped out of the mansion, I stopped dead in my tracks.

A Rolls-Royce sat waiting, flanked by a convoy of six Maybachs and seven bulletproof Bentaygas. The sheer scale of the display was nauseating. I turned to Steve, my voice cracking. "Do you always move with a small army?"

"They aren't here for me, Henry. They’re here for you," he replied as a guard held open the door.

I slid into the plush backseat. As we pulled out of the gates, more vehicles—an Aston Martin, another Rolls, and two Mercedes—slotted into the formation. My heart was racing, a chaotic mix of adrenaline and terror. I looked at Steve, who had closed his eyes and leaned back, seemingly ready to sleep.

The car felt like a pressurized bubble of luxury. Why hadn’t my father hinted at this? All those years of struggle, the hunger, the shame… had it all been a test? Or was my father just as much of a victim as I was?

I tapped the glass partition, and it slid down. "Are we almost there?" I asked, my voice still carrying a trace of my old, hesitant self.

"Yes, boss," the driver replied without hesitation.

The word boss vibrated in my chest like a tuning fork. A slow, dangerous smile tugged at the corners of my mouth and slowly, I understood that I could adapt to this. I straightened my spine. "How much longer?"

"About ten minutes, boss. Buckle up, we’re hitting the incline."

Before I could ask what he meant, a hand—Steve’s—shot out and yanked my shoulder back, clicking the seatbelt into place. The engine roared suddenly, a deep, guttural sound, and we surged forward with enough force to pin me against the leather. It felt like being fired out of a cannon, the city lights blurring into long, white streaks of neon.

  “Fucking hell, Steve!” I yelled and he just laughed.

Finally and much to my relief, the car braked. The doors were held open simultaneously by the guards.

"We have arrived," Steve announced coolly.

I stepped out into a forest-like clearing where a road had been carved through the trees. In front of us stood a set of massive, iron-wrought gates that looked like they belonged to a fortress.

"Whoa," I breathed. "This is insane."

"I came here last with your mother," Steve said, his voice unusually somber. He led me to a pedestal beside the gate. "Your face, your father’s, and your mother’s are the only ones programmed into this system. Lean in and blink twice."

I followed his instructions, knowing that everything he said would instantly come to life if I unlocked the biometric scan. The face-recognition scanner hummed, a red light sweeping over my eyes. A second later, a deep, resonant thunk echoed through the forest as the heavy bolts retracted.

The gates began to groan open. As I looked through to the other side, my jaw dropped.