Trash to Throne

Chapter 2 – The Convoy

The leather seat felt too soft for someone who still had rainwater in his shoes.

Adrian sat frozen as the black car purred away from the curb, the city blurring into streaks of neon and shadow outside the tinted windows.

Across from him sat the silver haired man who’d delivered the letter. His posture was perfect, his expression unreadable like someone who’d spent years being paid not to feel.

"My name is Grayson Hale," the man said. "I am the legal executor of the late Chairman Orion Cole’s estate. Your grandfather."

Adrian let out a short, bitter laugh. "I don’t have a grandfather. At least, not one who gives a damn." Grayson didn’t blink. "You do now. He passed away three days ago. And as per his will, everything he owned, every company, every property, every account is now yours."

Adrian leaned back, his chest tight. The words sounded like they belonged in a movie, not his life.

"Why me?"

Grayson’s eyes flicked to him for the first time. "Because you are the last living heir. And because… he believed you would understand what it means to have nothing."

The car slowed. They pulled up before a building so tall it seemed to touch the clouds glass and steel, lit from within like a lantern in the night. Guards in black stood at the entrance. Inside, the world changed.

Marble floors. Chandelier light refracting like diamonds. The faint scent of money, old and new.

Grayson guided him to an elevator. "We’ll start with the orientation. Then, the asset review. You’ll also need security detail immediately. Word of your inheritance will spread fast."

"Security?" Adrian frowned. "Why would I need"

The elevator doors slid open. Waiting inside was a woman in a red dress, her beauty sharp enough to cut. She smiled at Grayson, then turned her gaze to Adrian.

"So," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "You’re the new king." Adrian hesitated. "And you are…?"

She stepped closer, her perfume a whisper of danger. "Someone who’s been waiting for you." Grayson’s jaw tightened. "Miss Voss, this is not your floor."

The woman’s smile widened. "Oh, I know." She reached out, brushed her fingers across Adrian’s arm and slipped something into his jacket pocket without looking away. Before he could react, she stepped out, the elevator doors closing behind her.

Adrian reached into his pocket. A single playing card. The Ace of Spades. On the back, in handwritten ink: Welcome to the game. Survive, and you win everything. Lose… and you’ll wish you were still poor.

The elevator ride seemed endless. Adrian stared at the numbers blinking overhead, each one a step further away from the life he’d known, the rain soaked streets, the coins in his hand, Bella’s laughter echoing in his ears.

Grayson stood beside him, silent as stone, until the doors opened onto a floor that looked like something out of a magazine.