The undercover billionaire

Chapter six

Back at the hospital, the main hall was still bustling with people; patients, visitors, and doctors in uniforms. Arthur ran straight to the front desk.

The same nurse who ignored him before sat there, scribbling something on a form. She had always looked down on patients who could not pay, having grown up in a family where money was everything. To her, those without wealth were a waste of her time.

“I want to pay the full medical bill for Madam Aiyun,” he said, placing the two briefcases full of cash and his bank card on the counter. “This is everything she needs for the treatment. I want her back in proper care. Now.”

The nurse glanced at him, unimpressed.

“Sir, we already received payment earlier today for her—”

“That payment was withdrawn,” he snapped. “My emergency contact used it without my permission. I’m paying again in cash.”

She sighed. Her previous encounter with Arthur had hardened her heart. “We don’t want a repeat of what happened earlier. Please don’t cause another scene here.”

Arthur’s eyes blazed. He thought of all the times people had dismissed him, ignored him, treated him like dirt. His rage now came from years of being silenced. “I said, I’m paying in cash. Can’t you hear me?”

The nurse still didn’t move.

The nurses nearby glanced at each other, whispering under their breath.

“It’s that guy again…”

“Didn’t he lie last time about having money?”

“Probably just putting on another act…”

Arthur slammed both hands on the counter, loud enough to silence them.

“I am not lying,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just take the damn payment!”

“Is there a problem here?”

The voice came from behind.

Arthur turned to see Dr. Christina walking toward them, wearing her usual white coat, her expression calm but serious. She was known for never raising her voice, but when she did appear, her presence carried authority. Years ago, she had lost a patient because she didn’t arrive in time. Since then, she never wasted a second when she heard conflict in the ward.

“No, Doctor,” the nurse stammered. “Just some confusion with the patient—”

“I paid,” Arthur cut her off. “I brought the money again. I want my mother to be moved back to a proper room.”

Dr. Christina looked at him, then at the briefcase on the desk. She didn’t speak right away. Instead, she approached Arthur slowly, her eyes softer than before.

“I was just about to come find you,” she said gently.

Arthur blinked. “Why?”

“Your mother’s condition has worsened again. Even with treatment… it might be too late now.”

His heart skipped. “No… I brought the money. I did everything I could… Please, Doctor.”

Dr. Christina exhaled. The last time she had to deliver such news to a patient’s family. It had haunted her for weeks. “You should go to her room. She’s awake… and asking for you.”

Arthur turned and sprinted down the hallway. The white walls passed in a blur. His footsteps echoed sharply as he made his way to the community ward.

The moment he entered, he saw her.

Madam Aiyun was still lying in the same bed. Covered with a thin blanket. Her face was paler than before, her breathing shallow and weak.

Arthur rushed to her side.

“Mama… I’m here,” he said, dropping to his knees beside her bed. “I got the money. You’ll be okay. I’ll move you back to a proper room. Just wait a bit.”

She turned her head slightly. Her eyes opened slowly. Even in her weakness, she smiled. That smile had once been the only comfort Arthur knew as a child when other children mocked him for not having a proper father.

“Young… Master…”

Arthur paused. “What… what did you just call me?”

She lifted her hand with effort and touched his face. “My young master. I should have called you that long ago.”

Arthur was stunned. His mouth moved but no words came out.

“W-What do you mean, Mother? Now is not the time for stories.”

She gave a weak laugh, barely audible. “I wasn’t just your nanny, Arthur Price. I was your protector… Your shield.”

Arthur gripped her hand tightly. “What are you talking about? You told me that my mother died and that my father left us when I was two.”

“I had to lie,” she said. “I did it to protect you.”

His eyes filled with tears.

“But why?”

She coughed, her body trembling as she spoke. “Your mother… was a great woman. Powerful and kind. But people wanted her gone. If they found out you were alive, they would have come for you. I had to take you away. Hide you and raise you like a normal boy.”

Arthur swallowed hard. He remembered all the nights he had seen her sew his school uniform late into the night so he wouldn’t feel ashamed at school. Now he understood why she never let him ask questions about his past.

“Then… all of this time… I was never abandoned by my father?”

“No,” she said, her voice faint. “You were loved. So, so deeply.”

“Then why are you telling me this now?” he asked. “Why did someone send me money today? Why is all this happening?”

Her fingers trembled in his grip.

“Because… you are of age now. The inheritance… your real mother’s legacy. It’s all yours.”

He stared at her in disbelief.

“You’re not just some poor boy, Arthur,” she whispered. “You are the son of the true heir to the Price Dynasty. Everything belongs to you now.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. Her breathing grew weaker.

“Don’t talk anymore,” he whispered. “Save your strength. You’ll be okay. I’ll get you help.”

“It’s no use…” she said faintly. “I can feel it… my time is ending.”

“No—”

“Listen carefully,” she said. “You must find… your sister. She knows everything. Her name is…”

A violent cough cut her off. Blood stained her lips.

“Mama…!”

Her eyes blinked once, twice. Then stopped. The warmth in her hand faded. Her chest went still and immediately, the beeping machine marked the end of her life.

The room grew silent.

Arthur froze. He didn’t cry. Not at first. He just stared at her face, still half-smiling, like she had died peacefully.

Then the tears came—slow at first, then crashing.

His shoulders trembled as he leaned over her and sobbed like a lost child.

“Mama… don’t go. Don’t leave me…”

He stayed there until the nurse gently touched his shoulder. The nurse had seen many deaths in this hospital, but something about the boy’s grief pierced even her hardened heart. For the first time that day, she looked at him without judgment.

He wiped his eyes and walked out slowly, step by step.

The hallway felt endless.

The sky outside had turned orange. The sun was setting. Shadows stretched across the pavement.

He stood at the edge of the hospital entrance, staring blankly at the ground.

A long black car pulled up silently in front of him.

The rear door opened.

From the driver’s side, a man in a black suit stepped out.

He was tall, in his forties, with blue eyes and a respectful posture. Years of military training showed in his rigid movements, and his eyes carried the calmness of someone who had seen death many times before.

He walked directly toward Arthur and bowed deeply.

“Young Master Price,” he said calmly, “I am truly sorry for your loss.”

Arthur didn’t reply.

The man lifted his head slightly and continued: “Your father… has been waiting for you.”