Useless Husband is now a Muti-Billionaire

Chapter Seven Reception

The guard watched the screen fill with notifications and smirked.

“Taking a while, isn’t it?”

Abel thumbed past another dozen missed calls. Adora. Marvin. Adora again.

“Just as I thought. There’s no message. There never was.” The guard’s hand clamped onto Abel’s collar. “You’re a liar and a trespasser. Get off this property before I report you.”

“Let go. I’m almost…”

The guard hooked a foot behind Abel’s heel and shoved, trying to drop him, but Abel’s shoulders were stronger than the man had counted on. He stumbled and stayed upright. So the guard pushed him backward instead, step by step, toward the stairs that led down to the road.

At the very edge of the top step, Abel found it.

“Look!” He held the phone up.

The guard started to sneer, then read the subject line aloud, as if he couldn’t help it. “Official Notification. Northwest Energy and Companies.”

His eyes widened. The hand on Abel’s collar went slack.

“I don’t understand,” he muttered. He looked Abel over again, from the cheap shoes up to the face, and slowly let go. “Let me see what it says.”

“No.” Abel straightened his collar. The message was confidential, meant for him and the board alone, and a guard at the door had no right to it. “I’m going inside now. If you stop me again, I won’t let it slide.”

The guard said nothing. His eyes followed Abel up the steps, through the doors, and into the building.

The lobby was all marble and glass, and so quiet that Abel’s footsteps echoed.

A receptionist sat behind a long white desk, typing without looking up.

“Good morning. I’m Abel Kane, here to see the board.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“They sent for me this morning.”

“Hold on.” Three fingers moved across her trackpad, and the screen split into windows. She opened a calendar, scrolled, and frowned. Then she finally looked up.

Abel watched her gaze travel down his suit and stop at his shoes. She had the look of a woman who spent every day measuring people by their watches.

“There’s no appointment under your name. The board doesn’t see walk-ins.” She lifted her chin. “You have the wrong building.”

“I received a message from the board this morning. Please let them know Abel Kane is here.”

“A message from the board.” She laughed, short and mocking. “Michael!”

The guard from the door came in quickly through the entrance and stopped in front of the desk. He didn’t look at Abel.

“Why did you let this man into the building?”

Abel saw the guard’s face drain. He understood the arithmetic at once. The receptionist ranked above the door. One report from her, and Michael would be looking for a new job.

“He got past me, ma’am,” Michael said, his voice thin. “He says the board sent him a message.”

“Does this look like someone the board contacts?” She picked up the desk phone. “I’m calling security. And you’d better prepare to be questioned.”

“I don’t want any trouble. Please…”

“What’s going on here?”

The voice behind Abel was low and bored. A man in a tailored gray suit had stopped beside the desk. The nameplate on his lapel read Mr. Grant, Junior Executive Manager.

The receptionist put the phone down at once and bowed. “Sir, this man says the board contacted him.”

Grant looked Abel over with the same slow glance, then smiled without warmth. “The board? Him?” He waved a hand. “Have him thrown out.”

“Mr. Grant,” Abel said. His voice stayed steady. “I’m Abel Kane. If anything is unclear, check the system, or ask the board directly. But please don’t treat me like this.”

He knew the message was real. The money in his account was real. There was nothing in this lobby that could make him doubt it.

“You have a big mouth for a loser.”

The slap landed before Abel saw it coming.

The crack echoed through the marble lobby. The receptionist flinched as if the blow had landed on her own cheek. Michael stared at the floor.

Abel’s face stung. He didn’t step back. He didn’t raise his hand. He turned his head slowly until his eyes met Grant’s again.

“Is this how Northwest Energy treats the people who walk through its doors?”