The underestimated heir

Elite banking

Gabriel woke up at five in the morning, unable to sleep any longer. The excitement and nervousness in his chest felt like electricity running through his veins. He got up quietly, careful not to wake Maya, and took a quick shower in the tiny bathroom.

Today was the day he'd go to the bank and confirm everything. Part of him still worried it might all be a dream or a mistake. Fifty billion dollars seemed too impossible to be real.

He dressed in the only decent clothes he owned, a pair of dark jeans and a button-down shirt that was a bit worn but clean. Looking at himself in the mirror, he still looked like the same poor guy who'd been cleaning toilets for the Morrison family just a week ago. But inside, something had changed. He stood a little straighter. His eyes looked different. Harder. More determined.

By six-thirty, Gabriel was out the door. First National Bank didn't open until nine, but he wanted to be there the moment the doors unlocked. He stopped at a small coffee shop and bought a cup of coffee and a muffin, paying with the last twenty dollar bill in his wallet. After today, he'd never have to count his money so carefully again.

The thought still felt unreal.

Gabriel sat on a bench across from the bank, watching the sun rise over the city. People hurried past on their way to work. Cars filled the streets. The world kept moving like nothing had changed. But for Gabriel, everything had changed.

At eight-forty-five, he saw employees arriving at the bank, unlocking doors and turning on lights. Gabriel threw away his empty coffee cup and crossed the street.

He waited by the entrance. A security guard inside saw him and unlocked the door.

"We open at nine, sir," the guard said politely.

"I know," Gabriel replied. "I'll wait."

At exactly nine o'clock, the guard opened the doors. Gabriel walked in, his heart pounding.

The bank was fancy. Marble floors, high ceilings, leather chairs in the waiting area. Everything was clean and expensive looking. Gabriel felt out of place in his old clothes, but he walked up to the front desk anyway.

A young woman smiled at him professionally. "Good morning. How can I help you today?"

"I need to access my account," Gabriel said. "I need to speak with someone about a large balance."

The woman's smile didn't change, but her eyes flickered over his clothes with a hint of doubt. "Of course, sir. Do you have an account number?"

Gabriel pulled out his phone and showed her the banking app with his account information. The woman looked at the screen, and her eyes widened slightly.

"One moment please," she said quickly, her tone suddenly more respectful. She picked up her phone and spoke quietly into it.

Within thirty seconds, a middle-aged man in an expensive suit hurried out from the back offices. He had kind eyes and a warm smile.

"Mr. Carter?" the man asked, extending his hand. "I'm David Mills, senior account manager. Please, come with me."

Gabriel shook his hand and followed Mr. Mills through a door marked "Private Banking." They walked down a hallway lined with closed offices and into a large conference room with a view of the city.

"Please, sit down," Mr. Mills said, gesturing to a leather chair. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Gabriel said, sitting down. His hands were sweaty, but he tried to appear calm.

Mr. Mills sat across from him and opened a laptop. "Mr. Carter, first let me say that we're honored to have you as a client. Mrs. Abigail Morrison set up your account with very specific instructions. She was an incredibly wise woman."

"You knew her?" Gabriel asked.

"I had the pleasure of working with her for many years," Mr. Mills said with a genuine smile. "She was one of our most valued clients. She spoke very highly of you, Mr. Carter. She said you were like a grandson to her."

Gabriel felt a lump in his throat. "She was like a grandmother to me."

Mr. Mills nodded sympathetically. "She wanted to make sure you were taken care of. The account she set up for you is quite remarkable. As you've probably seen, it's currently valued at just over Fifty billion dollars."

Hearing someone else say it out loud made it real. Gabriel took a deep breath.

"The investment system she created is one of the most sophisticated I've ever seen," Mr. Mills continued. "It uses advanced algorithms and artificial intelligence to predict market trends and execute trades automatically. The returns have been exceptional."

"Can I access the money?" Gabriel asked. "Can I use it?"

"Absolutely," Mr. Mills said. "It's your account. You can withdraw funds, make purchases, invest in other ventures, whatever you like. However, I would recommend keeping a significant portion invested. The system is making you money every single day."

Gabriel nodded, his mind racing. "What about the Riverside Plaza property? How does that work?"

Mr. Mills pulled up some files on his laptop. "Ah yes, the real estate holdings. That's separate from this account, but equally valuable. Riverside Plaza consists of twelve commercial buildings in prime downtown locations. Current total value is approximately eighty million dollars."

Eighty million. Gabriel felt dizzy. That was all the money he left for the Morrisons. 

With the wealth he was accumulating hourly, he'd fight for that property, not just because he wanted to.respect Abigail's wish but to show the Morrisons that he wasn't one to toil with anymore. 

"The property generates about four hundred thousand dollars per month in rental income," Mr. Mills continued. "After expenses and taxes, you're looking at roughly three million dollars per year in profit."

Three million dollars. Per year. Just from rent.

"However," Mr. Mills said, his expression becoming more serious. "I should warn you that managing a property portfolio of that size is complex. You'll need accountants, property managers, lawyers. Mrs. Morrison had a team handling it before she passed, but they've been operating on autopilot since then. You'll need to take active control soon."

Gabriel nodded, trying to absorb all this information. It was overwhelming.

"Mr. Carter," Mr. Mills said gently. "You look a bit pale. This is a lot to process. Why don't we start with something simple? Let me set you up with a black card for immediate expenses."

"A black card?" Gabriel asked.

"An unlimited credit card," Mr. Mills explained. "For high-net-worth individuals. No spending limit, premium benefits, VIP treatment at hotels and restaurants, that sort of thing."

"Okay," Gabriel said, still feeling like he was in a dream.

Mr. Mills made a phone call. "Sarah, can you come to Conference Room A please? We need to process a black card application."

While they waited, Mr. Mills asked Gabriel about his plans. Gabriel mentioned wanting to pay for his sister's education and find a better place to live. Mr. Mills nodded approvingly and offered recommendations for real estate agents and financial advisors.

Then there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Mr. Mills called.

The door opened, and a young woman walked in. She was probably in her late twenties, dressed in a sharp business suit. She had long dark hair pulled back in a neat bun and intelligent eyes that seemed to take in everything at once.

"Sarah, this is Gabriel Carter," Mr. Mills said. "Mr. Carter, this is Sarah Vivian. She's the granddaughter of our late chairman, Charles Vivian. She specializes in handling our most important accounts."