CHAPTER FOUR. FROM RAGS TO REVELATION

Several hours after, Oliver lay on his bed, hungry and devastated. With no money for food, the evening's events replayed in his mind. Just as despair set in, his phone rang. An unknown number appeared, and he answered quickly.

"Hello?" Oliver said, hopeful yet uncertain.

"Am I speaking to Mr. Oliver?" the voice asked.

"Yes, this is Oliver," he said, eager to know who was calling him at this hour. He'd just had a long and bad day.

"Mr. Oliver, I need you to pick up a package from the school mall and have it delivered to the Grand Royal Hotel. The address is 123 Main Street," the caller instructed.

"Sure, I will do that," Oliver replied, desperation edging his voice.

"Great. Get it done quickly, and you'll be paid well," the caller added before hanging up.

Desperate for any opportunity to earn some money, Oliver jumped to his feet. This was his last chance to make enough for a meal that day as he hadn't eaten anything that day.

He went straight to the school mall, picked up the item and quickly ran through the city streets, and luckily for him, the hotel was just a short distance from his dorm. With no money for transportation, he ran as fast as he could, arriving at the hotel after nearly 20 minutes.

On getting there, the guards didnt want to grant him entry due to his worn-out clothes, but he convinced them that he was there for delivery and they let him in. 

Angrily, he headed to the designated room to deliver the package. He knocked but heard only faint sounds. After several unanswered knocks, he decided to push the door open.

Gbam!

Oliver froze in his tracks, the package slipping from his hands. There on the bed Sophia lay naked with her legs spread open and Harry was on top of her sweating, pounding her vigorously while she moaned loudly.

Harry stood up with his laughter filled the room, scornful and mocking. "Oliver, here you are again," he sneered, "me winning and you losing. How pathetic. Let me get some money for you so I can continue my fun."

A wave of betrayal washed over Oliver, mingling with the anger already burning inside him. He gritted his teeth, struggling to process the scene unfolding before him. Harry's cruel laughter cut through the air, mocking and triumphant.

Oliver felt a surge of anger and humiliation rising within him, but he bit back the retort that threatened to spill from his lips. Instead, he clenched his fists, his jaw tight with resolve. He was here to deliver a package, and he would do so professionally, regardless of the circumstances.

"Fine," Oliver replied through gritted teeth, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Just give me the money for my delivery and let me get out here."

"If you want to collect your pay and something extra, quickly dispose off this and come for your pay," Harry sneered, tossing a used condom at Oliver with the contents spilling on Oliver's body.

Oliver stood there, stunned and speechless for a moment. The humiliation and degradation hitting him like a physical blow. The shock of seeing Sophia with Harry, combined with the blatant disrespect and humiliation inflicted upon him, threatened to overwhelm him. 

Oliver's eyes flashed with a fury he could no longer contain. His anger had reached its boiling point. Harry had gone too far this time. Not only had he stolen his girlfriend and humiliated him in front of the entire school, but now he had the audacity to flaunt his conquest and degrade him further by throwing a used condom at him.

Oliver felt a surge of adrenaline course through his veins. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white with the intensity of his rage. He had tolerated Harry's provocation and cruelty for far too long, but this was the breaking point. 

"You think you can keep doing this to me?" Oliver growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you can humiliate me, steal my girlfriend, and throw your filth at me without consequences?"

Harry's smirk faltered for a moment as he saw the intensity in Oliver's eyes. But he quickly regained his composure and not willing to damage his steeze, stepping forward with a sneer. "What are you going to do about it, loser?" he taunted, his tone dripping with disdain.

"You want to see what I'll do?" Oliver hissed, his voice now menacing. Before Harry could react, Oliver grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall with surprising force. 

"You think you're better than me because you have money and power?" Oliver spat, his face inches from Harry's.

Without thinking twice, Oliver punched Harry in the face so hard that he fell to the ground, his nose bleeding profusely. But Oliver didn't stop there. All the pent-up anger and humiliation surged through him, and he vented them at Harry, raining down blow after blow without regard for the consequences.

Harry tried to shield himself, but Oliver's fury was relentless. Blood smeared on the floor as Harry's cries of pain filled the hallway.

Sophia rushed out of the room, her eyes wide with panic. She began hitting Oliver in a desperate attempt to stop him. "Do you want to kill my man for me, you poverty-stricken boy?" she screamed. "I knew you were not happy for me, and now that I finally got what I wanted, you would kill him for me?"

"Who is winning now? Who is winning now?" Oliver spat through gritted teeth, still breathing heavily. His eyes burned with fury as he stood over the battered Harry.

"I'm going to make sure you learn your lesson. By the time I'm done with you, you'll regret ever touching the mighty Harry," Harry threatened, but Oliver ignored him.

After satisfying himself, Oliver angrily stormed out of the hotel and made his way to his dorm.

On entering the room, he didn't find anyone. He just settled on his bed, seriously hungry, hoping to catch some sleep and forget his miserable day.

Left to himself in the room, Oliver breathed out a sigh of relief as his friends departed, he needed the peace and quiet.

On his bed, he then he touched the necklace on his neck but quite an old one that he has refused to let go as it was the only property of his parents that he possessed.

Gently, he traced his fingers over the necklace, almost afraid to disturb the memories it held, whispering softly, "Mom, Dad, I wish you were here."

Lost in thought, he stared blankly out the window, pondering how he would recover all the money he had lost from the box he had given Sophia.

Oliver shook his head, muttering to himself, "My life is a mess. I'll just sleep and find more jobs once it's morning."

Suddenly, the door slammed open, startling him out of his sleep, and he jumped out of bed.

Who are you guys?" Oliver's voice quivered as he laid eyes on the four towering figures, their chiseled chests and imposing stature making him feel small and vulnerable in comparison. He knew instantly that he was no match for them, not in this world.

Some of them had cigarettes dangling from their lips, and they reeked of alcohol causing Oliver to wrinkle his nose in distaste as one of them asked, " You must be Oliver the delivery guy?"

Furrowing his brow with a hint of concern, he responded, "Yes, I'm Oliver, How may I help you?"

They exchanged smirks, their expressions filled with malice, before one of them blew a cloud of smoke towards Oliver's face.

Not used to such a gesture, Oliver coughed violently. Before he could gather himself, a forceful blow to his stomach knocked him to the ground, where he lay, writhing in pain.

He screamed, he cried, he begged for mercy, but they showed him none.

The men didn't say a word to him but all right at once, the onslaught of kicks and punches followed intensifying the pain he was feeling already. The beating was so severe that his lips and chin burst open.

His blood oozed from his wounds, draining his strength with every blow, and he felt death closing in with each passing moment.

He groaned and massaged the painful areas, seeking some relief from the agony. Finally, the assault ceased, but before they departed, one of the men paused and uttered, "And remember, you know who sent us."

Oliver slowly raised his head to hear who had sent this ferocious men to kill him.

One of them uttered menacingly, "Remember, never cross paths with the mighty Harry again."

It dawned on him that Harry had sent men to retaliate for the beating he had given him some hours ago.

Oliver's attempts to speak were futile as he could only cough up large amounts of blood. His body, riddled with bruises, was too feeble to allow him to stand from where he lay.

Struggling to move, he finally managed to retrieve his phone from the side of the bed. He called his friends, but they didn't pick up. Considering his limited options, he managed to dial 911.

"Hello, this is 911. What's your emergency?" a lady's voice said on the other end.

"There's an emergency here at Bechem University. Room 007. Please be quick or a life will be lost," he said. After ending the call, he fainted.

*************

A few minutes later, the emergency siren was blaring loudly, waking everyone up and getting their attention. Several students followed the responders, curious to know who had called and what was happening.

The responders went straight to the security and asked about room 007. The security and a few staff members were surprised to hear there was an emergency since no one had reported anything.

So, the security guards and the emergency team rushed to room 007. On getting there, they kicked the door open and hurried inside. There, they saw someone lying motionless on the floor.

The medic quickly checked to see if he was still breathing. After a quick examination, he realized the person was alive. "Get an ambulance here," he told the others.

Even though they expected a different kind of emergency, they were relieved to save a life.

Just then, as the medic was about to stand up, he heard a faint beeping sound from a device in his pocket.

"Beep beep," went the deafening sound of the device.

The medic froze, his eyes darting to his colleagues as he gasped in shock. He looked around, confused, until his gaze landed on the small tracker device around Oliver's neck. The beeping grew louder and more insistent. Realization dawned on him as he recognized the device.

"Could it be?" he muttered to himself, his eyes widening in disbelief. The device continued to beep, confirming his suspicion. It dawned on him—this was Oliver, the long-lost son of the Howard conglomerate.

His face broke into a wide grin as he burst into excitement. It had been over a decade since they’d been searching for him. With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone and quickly dialed a number. 

“Madam President, we’ve found the young master! He’s injured but alive. Please send an ambulance immediately!”

Meanwhile, the whole crowd was still standing, rooted to the spot, waiting to know what would become of Oliver.

Harry had just gotten back to school with his thugs, his nose still swollen and bruised. He was shocked and disappointed to see emergency help rushing to Oliver. He never thought Oliver would actually call for help. He figured after his thugs roughed up Oliver, there'd be no chance for him to get any assistance.

Harry was among the first to get to the scene. "Do you think he's dead?" Sophia teased, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"What difference does it make?" Harry said mockingly. "He was useless when he was alive, and he's still useless now that he's dead." They both burst into laughter.

There were whispers and murmurs between the students, who were busy with their phones and less concerned about the incident.

Within minutes, the quiet was shattered by the roar of engines. Everyone fell silent, gasping.

Seven exotic cars pulled up: a Bugatti Chiron, Lamborghini Aventador, Rolls-Royce Phantom, Ferrari LaFerrari, Bentley Bentayga, McLaren P1, and Aston Martin DB11. Even though it was dark, they all shined with the Howard family crest, screaming wealth and power.

"Oh my God! Is that a Ferrari?" one of the students blurted out, shocked.

"Oh my gosh! It's custom made!" yelled another student.

The crowd went silent, stunned by the arrival of the fancy cars. They couldn't believe the contrast between the beaten-up Oliver and the luxury vehicles. Curiosity replaced their mocking.

Harry's jaw dropped when he saw the convoy. He wondered who was important enough to warrant such a grand arrival.

"That's a Bentley Bentayga," he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He couldn't believe his dream cars were there for Oliver.

Sophia turned to Harry, her eyes wide with shock. "Who are these people?" she asked, bewildered.

Harry, despite his family's wealth, was equally clueless. "Must be some kind of mistake," he said dismissively, though his voice wavered slightly.

The men who stepped out of the cars were dressed in sleek black Louis Vuitton suits and sunglasses, exuding a high-end, authoritative vibe. They were clearly high-class security, and their presence made everyone pause in stunned silence.

The drivers of the luxury cars carefully lifted Oliver's limp body and placed him in the backseat of the Rolls-Royce Phantom, while the tracker around his neck continued beeping steadily.

As the students watched in awe, their earlier mocking turned to disbelief. The realization that Oliver was connected to such opulence was hard for them to accept. They quickly brushed off their earlier assumptions, clinging to the belief that he must have stolen something.

Sophia whispered to Harry, "Do you think maybe he stole something? That’s why all these fancy people are here?"

Harry, still trying to process the situation, nodded. "Yeah, it’s got to be. He must have stolen something expensive from his boss."

Another student chimed in, "Maybe he tried to take something valuable, and now they’re here to arrest him. No way a loser like him is connected to all this luxury."

"That makes sense," Sophia replied. "He’s probably in big trouble."

Harry felt uneasy but tried to keep it together. Deep down, he couldn’t stop thinking that Oliver must be linked to those fancy cars. Even though he tried to act cool, the sight of the luxurious convoy and the serious-looking security made him wonder if he had been wrong about Oliver all along.

"How could that boy enter a Rolls-Royce before me?" He muttered coldly under his breath.

Meanwhile, Sophia kept rolling her eyes whenever someone said something nice about Oliver getting a ride in a Rolls-Royce. She couldn’t believe it. To her, Oliver was just a poor delivery guy, so this made no sense.

“He must have stolen something,” Sophia said angrily, trying to make herself feel better as she walked away with Harry.