OLIVER'S RISE TO INFLUENCE

CHAPTER FIVE. BILLION DOLLAR INHERITANCE

When Oliver opened his eyes, he was disoriented. It was no longer evening but morning. He had been out cold for hours, and he couldn't remember how long.

He found himself in a fancy hospital room, equipped with the latest medical gear. The room was brightly lit, and he was lying shirtless on the bed, with bandages wrapped around various parts of his body. Medical devices were hooked up to him.

"Where am I? Shouldn't I be dead?" he mumbled, confused. The last thing he remembered was being beaten up. He tried to piece together how he ended up here, his mind racing.

As he tried to make sense of things, the door creaked open, and a man in a white coat with a stethoscope walked in. Oliver recognized him as the doctor.

"Doctor, where am I? Why am I restrained with all these devices connected to me?" He attempted to sit up but winced in pain.

"Thank goodness you're awake! Don't worry, just stay calm. I'm here to administer your final dose of medication," the doctor reassured in a soothing voice.

Oliver's confusion only grew as the doctor mentioned medication.

"You have to release me. I'm a student and I have to get to my part-time job today!" he insisted.

The doctor smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, you'll be just fine after this last dose, and then I'll remove all the equipment from your body."

"Why was I strapped with it in the first place?" Oliver's patience was wearing thin as he asked.

Again, the door opened again, a man in a black suit strode in with a wide grin plastered across his face.

Oliver couldn't understand why the man seemed so pleased to see him.

Oliver's mind raced with thoughts of how he would manage to pay the hefty hospital bills and still make it to work on time.

The concern over his medical expenses weighed heavily on him, making it obvious even to the doctor.

"Doctor, have you finished with him?" inquired the man in the black Louis Vuitton suit.

Yes, the doctor confirmed. "I just need to administer his prescribed medication to ensure he's comfortable for the next few days."

"That's good," the man in the black suit nodded. "He needs to meet Madam president now."

Oliver's eyebrows shot up in confusion as his mind raced with questions. "Why?" he asked. "And who is madam president?"

"Why do I need to meet Madam president?" Oliver questioned.

The man waited until the doctor finished disconnecting the machines and drips from Oliver's body before addressing him.

"Please, young master, come with me," the man demanded.

Oliver's brow furrowed in confusion. "What's going on? Why should I follow you? Where are we going?"

Before the man could respond, the doctor intervened. "He brought you here, so you must leave with him."

Oliver gulped, his curiosity piqued as to why this man was involved in his situation, but he didn't protest. Instead, he complied and followed the man, still wearing nothing but his hospital gown.

They walked down the grand staircase of the colossal building, and as they reached the bottom, Collins was met with a sight that left him even more bewildered. A fleet of expensive cars awaited them. He felt drained, his strength nearly gone, and the rapid pace of recent events left him surprised. The man in the suit bowed and opened the car door for him, then quickly rounded the vehicle and entered through the other door.

Immediately, the convoy of cars began to move, speeding smoothly through the streets. "Should I put on the radio or some music for you, young master?" the man asked. It took a few seconds for Oliver to realize he was the one being spoken to. "No, no, I'm fine," he replied, still trying to process everything. He couldn't help but marvel at the luxurious interior of the vehicle, complete with full air conditioning and plush seating.

As they drove through the city, Oliver's astonishment grew even more when the convoy approached a secluded, high-profile area. This was the government-reserved zone, home to top government officials and the wealthiest elites. 

The security was tight, and every car passing through was 

Properly checked—except for theirs. Instead of stopping them, the security personnel saluted as they passed, a sign of the immense power and influence of whoever was behind this.

Oliver's mind raced with questions. What was happening? Who were these people? Why was he being treated with such respect and care? 

After a long drive, their car finally drove into a grand estate named "Howard Empire." The name was boldly written in elegant, gold lettering on a large, ornate gate that opened smoothly as their convoy approached.

"We are finally here, young master," the man said as they drove into the mammoth building. Oliver's eyes widened in amazement at the compound.

The driveway was lined with meticulously manicured gardens, with vibrant flowers and topiaries shaped into intricate designs. Fountains with crystal-clear water sparkled in the sunlight, creating a serene and luxurious atmosphere. Marble statues of classical figures stood gracefully amidst the greenery, adding a touch of timeless elegance to the estate.

As their car pulled up to the entrance of the main mansion, Oliver couldn't help but notice the grandeur of the building. 

One portion of the compound was dedicated to a collection of luxurious cars, all with tinted windows and customized plates. The variety of vehicles ranged from sleek sports cars to elegant limousines, each one more impressive than the last.

Even Harry that thinks he's wealthy can't even boast of one of the least cars parked in the compound. His collection of cars was nothing compared to what he was seeing now. Oliver thought. 

"Where is this?" Oliver couldn't help but ask as the man rushed down to open the door for him again.

"This is one of Madam President's properties," the man replied with a respectful nod.

"Seriously? And who is this Madam President?" Oliver asked, his patience wearing out. 

"Please, follow me," the man said, guiding Oliver through the impressive hallways. They passed by rooms filled with sumptuous furniture, plush carpets, and tasteful decorations. Everything exuded wealth and sophistication.

"This way, sir," the man said, leading him further inside the house.

The interior of the mansion was even more breathtaking than the exterior. They walked through a grand foyer with a double staircase that spiraled up to the second floor.

The floors were made of polished marble, their surfaces so smooth and reflective that Oliver could see his own bewildered expression. 

"Please, young master, have your seat. Madam President will be with you shortly," the man said, gesturing to a lavishly decorated sitting room. 

Oliver took a seat, still overwhelmed by the sheer opulence of his surroundings. As he looked around, his eyes caught a large, framed picture on the wall. 

In the frame, a man and a woman and a young boy in the picture, smiling as they held themselves together. 

As Oliver stared at the picture on the wall, he noticed something strange about it. The young boy in the picture looked strikingly like him. Without realizing it, he muttered, "Could this person in the picture be me?"

"Yes, you're the one in the picture," Madam President said casually. "I'm your mother. The photo was taken when you were very young. That's me and your father with you in the picture."

The shock of her words hit Oliver like a physical blow, making him stagger back. He couldn't believe it. This powerful woman, who seemed to have everything, was claiming to be his mother.

She remained calm but persistent and nodded. "Yes I'm your mother. I just need you to calm down and I'll explain everything to you." She said.

But Oliver cut in angrily. "Don't tell me to calm down! All these years you abandoned me, you just show out of nowhere and expect me to accept you back just like that?"

"Do you even know what I went through to sponsor myself? The struggles, the humiliation, all to earn a living."

"I know how you feel and I'm sorry you had to go through all that, and like I said earlier, I did everything for you to have a better life." She said solemnly. 

Oliver scoffed. "You said you did it for a better life? Where is this better life? The last time I checked, I'm still a poor boy running errands to survive."

"Son, we own many businesses, including the Grand Royal Hotel," Oliver's mother revealed, her voice steady.

Oliver's eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean the Grand Royal Hotel? The most famous hotel in the state? I know you're desperate to have me as your son, but at least I'm not a fool you can feed with lies. 

"Yes, my dear, it's ours," she confirmed with a nod.

Oliver felt a wave of confusion wash over him. "But I thought the hotel belonged to the Whitmore family?" Oliver has always heard Harry brag about his Dad's hotel and other establishments countless times, So he was sure certain the hotel belongs to them and not what his mom claims.

Simon chuckled softly. "Ah, the Whitmore family. They have a reputation, yes, but let me explain."

Oliver listened intently but unconvinced, his mind racing. The Whitmore family was known for their vast influence and numerous establishments.

About that young Master," Simon continued, "the hotel actually belongs to us. Mr. Whitmore came to your mother years ago, asking for a collaboration, but she turned him down. However, she granted him the privilege to run the hotel as his own. Not only that, but all the businesses under the Whitmore name are actually ours. The profit share is a staggering 90% to 10%. They deposit 90% of the profits into our accounts and keep the remaining 10% for themselves."

Oliver's disbelief turned to anger. "So, Harry has been enjoying my family's money and still treating me like dirt?"

Simon nodded. "Yes, young master. The Whitmore family's wealth largely stems from your mother's generosity."

"I have one more question to ask you," Oliver said, still looking confused. "Did you bring me here knowing I'm your son? And how did you find me in the first place?"

"Okay," she said softly. "I will tell you everything you need to know and make you believe me." Then she began her story, her voice trembling with each word.

"Your necklace, Son. It's not an ordinary necklace, it contains a tracking device. It's custom-made, something we all have in our family." She pointed to the identical necklace she was wearing.

"When you called the emergency number, and they came to attend to you, your necklace's signal was picked up. I had reported everything to the security agencies to help find you after the necklace's signal went offline.

Oliver frowned, processing the information. "So, all this time, you knew who I was?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "I never gave up hope of finding you. When the necklace signal was picked up, we acted immediately. The moment I saw you, I knew. I recognized you, and the DNA test confirmed it. I brought you here to finally reunite our family

It was then Oliver realized the importance of the necklace he had been wearing all this time.

Oliver frowned and said, "But I grew up in an orphanage. How did I end up there when I still have a wealthy mother?"

"After your father died, things were tough for me, and I didn't want to see you suffer. So I headed abroad in search of a better life and had you stay with one of my close friends."

She paused, her eyes brimming with tears. "After some time, things got better. I returned to get you, to have you live with me. But when i got back, i discovered that my friend had died, and you were taken to an orphanage. I searched every orphanage in the state and nearby states, but i couldn't find you."

Her tears flowed freely now, and Oliver could see the pain and sincerity in her eyes..

Madam President took a deep breath, steadying herself. "When I left you with my friend, I thought it would be temporary. I never imagined that she would pass away or that you would be lost to me for so long. It was my greatest regret, my deepest sorrow."

Oliver watched her, his anger slowly melting into empathy. He could see the truth in her eyes.

"And now, here you are," she said, her voice breaking with emotion. "My son, my precious son. You're not alone anymore. You're part of this family, and you always will be."

"And if you're still doubting me, here is the DNA result that shows you're my son. I had it carried out when you were in the hospital," she said, handing a file to Oliver.

Oliver quickly opened the file, and to his utter surprise, the DNA results showed a perfect match with hers.

For the first time, Oliver allowed himself to believe her. The evidence was overwhelming, the emotions too real to be fabricated. He was no longer the poor, lonely boy he thought he was. He was the heir to a vast fortune, and most importantly, he had found his family.

Oliver sighed and said, "So I have rich parents, and I've been made to live like a pauper all my life and get humiliated at all times."

She felt sober and moved closer to Oliver, drawing him into her embrace. "Forgive me son. I never planned to forsake you or allow you to suffer like that. But you're home now, and that's what is important."

"It's fine, Mom," Oliver said, his voice softening. "I forgive you."

His mother smiled faintly and said, "Son, I'm glad you're here now. What I wanted was for you to inherit all I've worked for. I've spent my entire life building a better future for you, and that future has arrived. Now, you can sit back and enjoy the wealth."

"All i just need you to do is take over the companies as the executive director," his mother reassured him.

Oliver shook his head. "I don't even know how to run a company. I've never run one before."

"Don't worry son," she said with a comforting smile. "You'll learn as time goes on. Moreover, you don't need to do everything yourself. There are people already working there. Your presence is mostly for formality."

Her tone then grew steely, "And you should control that wealth. Make all those who humiliated you pay back tenfold for the wrongs they've done."

Oliver, feeling a surge of determination, nodded. "I will, Mom. I'll make sure they regret ever looking down on me."

Madam President's eyes shone with pride and a fierce protective love. "That's my son," she said, her voice filled with both warmth and resolve. "Together, we'll show them what true power and wealth looks like."

Oliver chuckled and said, "Mom, how much money are we even talking about?" he asked playfully.

"Why not make a guess?" his mother replied, matching his tone.

"$750 million dollars?" Oliver guessed.

His mother chuckled. "Well, $750 million is a lot of money, but certainly not to our family because the least of our companies is worth over $20 billion."

"What?!" Oliver exclaimed. "Mom, that was some expensive joke," he said, eyes wide.

She smiled. "Son, I wish I was joking, but I'm not."

Oliver wondered how much their family was really worth and how he would oversee such vast wealth if their smallest company was worth so much.

"Son," she continued, "I've always believed that one day I would see you. I didn't know how, but I was convinced."

She stood up and said, "Follow me, son," and Oliver swiftly followed her, holding her hand.

They moved into an elevator, and Oliver marveled at how a house could have an elevator. They arrived at a gigantic room, filled with lavish furnishings and opulent decor. Oliver couldn't help but admire the taste and luxury of the space.

She went to her wardrobe and pressed a button, revealing a black card with gold plating and the inscription WB on it. She took the card and handed it to Oliver. 

"What kind of card is this Mom?" Oliver asked, curious about the unfamiliar kind of card.

"It's not a normal card, son. It's a special card for special people, and it's yours now. I've been looking for you for the past 18 years, and every month, I've deposited $50 million into that account. That makes it a total of $10 billion because I was convinced one day I would find you. Take it, it's yours now."

Oliver stared at the card, his mind reeling. "Mom... I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything son. Just say you'll use it wisely," she replied, her voice filled with emotion.

"I will, Mom. I promise."

Oliver looked pleased, a mix of excitement and relief washing over him.

Madam President hugged her son tightly. "Welcome home, Son. This is just the beginning of your new life. No more part-time jobs, no more stress. It's time for you to take your place as the heir to the throne and humiliate those who have humiliated you in the past.