Too late, ex wife. From Janitor to Tycoon

Chapter Six

Moments later, they arrived in front of a massive black door. Polished silver letters were engraved across it, gleaming under the soft overhead lights. Sam’s eyes lingered on the words:

CHIEF OPERATING OFFICER– Yonda Holdings.

The letters seemed to radiate authority and power. For a moment, Sam felt a strange tightness in his chest. He had cleaned office doors countless times in his life, but none had ever carried such weight, such undeniable command.

The contrast between the humble janitor who walked beside polished walls all day and the world that lay behind this door made him feel unnervingly small.

The secretary, whom Sam later learned was called Zoya, stepped forward and knocked gently on the door.

“Come in,” a confident female voice called from inside.

Zoya pushed the door open and stepped aside, gesturing for Sam to enter. He hesitated slightly before stepping forward, the familiar clack of his shoes on the marble floor echoing in the silence. His mind spun as he tried to reconcile what had brought him here.

He had been doing his usual rounds not long ago, mopping floors, collecting trash, and scrubbing fingerprints off glass doors. Now he had been escorted in a luxury car, treated with near deference by security, and led to the office of a woman whose name alone commanded respect in this building. He felt entirely out of place.

He walked calmly, keeping his posture straight, still dressed in his cleaner’s uniform shirt he didn't have the time to change. Even though he had ensured it looked tidy that morning, the faint scent of detergent clung to the fabric, reminding him of the ordinary life he had come from. It felt absurd to be standing in this space, surrounded by wealth and authority that seemed so alien.

The office itself was immense, far larger than any workspace Sam had ever seen. He once had a few thousands but nothing compared to what he was seeing here.

A massive glass wall stretched across one side of the room, revealing a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The sunlight hit the tall buildings just right, making them shimmer like distant monuments of power and ambition. Sam’s pulse quickened as he took in the sheer scale of it all.

At the center of the room stood a sleek mahogany desk. Its polished surface reflected light, appearing almost like a throne rather than a simple workspace. Behind it sat Susan Devanchi. Her posture was perfect, her expression calm and composed. She exuded confidence, a quiet power that made Sam’s own nerves tighten in response.

He lowered himself slowly into the chair opposite her desk, doing his best to appear composed. His hands rested on his knees, and he made an effort to breathe steadily. Every instinct in him screamed that he didn’t belong here, that this world was completely unlike the one he had known for so long.

“That will be all, Zoya,” Susan said in a polite, measured tone.

“Alright. Excuse me,” Zoya replied before stepping out, leaving Sam alone with Susan.

The door clicked softly behind her, and a hush seemed to settle over the room. Sam could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. The silence was heavy, almost oppressive, and he felt an odd mix of anxiety and anticipation coiling in his stomach.

Susan leaned back slightly in her chair and folded her hands neatly on the desk. She regarded Sam with a calm intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“Mr. Blackwood,” she began, her voice steady and composed, “I apologize for keeping you in suspense and for bringing you here so abruptly. However, what I am about to discuss with you is of utmost importance. Otherwise, I would not have gone through all of this.”

Sam nodded slowly, though his confusion was evident. His patience was beginning to fray. He had spent years working hard, unnoticed, cleaning floors and making sure offices ran smoothly, and now he was expected to simply absorb this sudden leap into a world he didn’t understand.

“What exactly do you want from me, ma’am?” he asked, trying to keep his voice respectful even as a knot of frustration grew in his chest.

Susan smiled faintly.

“It is nothing overly complicated,” she said. “But before I explain, there is something you need to see.”

She turned her computer monitor around so that it faced him.

Sam leaned forward instinctively, squinting slightly at the screen. The moment his eyes landed on the face staring back at him, his eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

“Aiden?” he exclaimed.

The familiar face was unmistakable. It was his old friend, Aiden.

A rush of memories hit Sam all at once. He remembered long nights in the computer lab, fueled by cheap coffee and leftover instant noodles. He remembered coding for hours with Aiden, building experimental programs, testing security systems, and laughing at ridiculous prototypes that never worked. Those had been simpler times, when life was defined by curiosity, friendship, and a shared obsession with technology.

Sam shook his head slowly, a mix of disbelief and nostalgia washing over him.

“What is going on?” he muttered under his breath.

“What’s Aiden doing here?” he asked aloud, his voice tight with curiosity.

On the screen, Aiden rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Hey, Sam,” he said, his voice carrying a nervous edge.

Sam leaned back in his chair, still stunned by the sight of his friend in this unexpected context.

“Aiden,” he said again, his laugh tinged with disbelief. “This has to be some kind of joke. What is your connection to the Devanchi Dynasty?”

Aiden hesitated, shifting in his seat.

“Well… about that,” he said, clearly uncomfortable.

Sam frowned, suspicion creeping into his tone.

“What do you mean?”

Aiden cleared his throat and looked down briefly.

“You actually met my sister today,” he said.

Sam blinked slowly, trying to process the words.

“Your sister?” he asked, incredulity rising in his voice.

“Yes,” Aiden said quietly, gesturing slightly off-camera.

Sam turned his head to look at Susan. Then he looked back at the screen. Then he turned back to Susan again.

The realization slowly began to settle over him.

“Wait…,” Sam said, his voice rising slightly.

His eyes widened in shock.

“What?”

“Aiden… you’re a Devanchi?” he asked.

Aiden gave a small, awkward smile.

“Yes,” he admitted.

Sam leaned back in his chair, the sudden weight of the revelation making him feel dizzy. He stared at his friend, trying to reconcile the quiet, unassuming nerd he had known with the powerful corporate figure appearing before him on the screen.

“How is that even possible?” he asked, his voice low and incredulous.

“It’s a long story,” Aiden replied. “I’ll explain everything later.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. The friend he had spent countless hours coding with, the friend he had once skipped lectures with, was now part of one of the most powerful families in the country. His heart pounded with a mix of disbelief and awe.

“For now,” Aiden continued, his tone turning serious, “we have a problem.”

Sam immediately noticed the shift in Aiden’s voice. There was urgency now, a sharpness that drew his full attention.

“What kind of problem?” he asked cautiously still amazed with everything that was going on.