2024-08-27 06:36:40Chapter Five
"I’m so sorry, Henry," Jasmine whispered, her voice trembling as she touched his bruised arm. "You don’t deserve this." Henry smiled weakly and kissed her on the forehead. "Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine." That night, after the argument settled, Henry had no choice but to sleep on the cold floor, as he often did. His mother-in-law had made it clear long ago that he wasn’t allowed to share the bed with Jasmine. Early the next morning, Henry woke up before dawn, his body stiff and sore from the hard floor. Jasmine was still asleep, and he leaned down to gently kiss her forehead. She stirred slightly, smiling up at him. “I promise, Jasmine,” Henry said quietly, “I’ll work hard. I’ll make sure you live like the queen you deserve to be.” Jasmine chuckled softly, still half asleep. “Stop dreaming, Henry. We’re poor, and now I don’t even have an allowance. Grandma cut me off. They’ll never let us live in peace.” Henry hesitated, wanting to tell her about the black card, but before he could say anything, Jasmine’s mother appeared in the doorway, arms crossed and glaring at him. "I’m here to make sure no one gives you food or water, Henry," she snapped. "You’re still under punishment. And don’t even think about using the toilet or taking a shower. You’ll stay filthy until I say otherwise." Without arguing, Henry gathered what little dignity he had left and left the mansion, his stomach growling and his mind racing. Outside, Henry pulled out his old, broken phone, its cracked screen barely functioning. He scrolled through his emails, hoping to find some good news or an opportunity, anything that would help him get through the day. His eyes widened when he saw an email from the **HEXAGON CONSORTIUM**. He clicked it open and stared at the message, unable to believe his eyes. The email invited him to a meeting with the vice president of HEXAGON, the largest conglomerate in the country. The HEXAGON building, an 80-story skyscraper, was the hub of real estate, commercial businesses, hotels, and more. Everyone knew about it—it was a symbol of power and wealth. Henry stood frozen for a moment, reading the email over and over. It seemed surreal. He was jobless and destitute. Why would someone like the vice president of HEXAGON want to meet with him? Was this related to Mr. Anderson and the black card? He didn’t have the answers, but he was curious. Without wasting any more time, he decided to go see for himself. Henry walked to the side of the mansion and pulled out his old, wretched bicycle. The rusty chains groaned as he pedalled, and the wheels made a creaking sound with every turn. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had. As he rode toward the towering HEXAGON building, the bicycle creaking beneath him, Henry couldn’t help but wonder if his life was about to change forever. Henry rode his creaky old bicycle to the grand gates of the **HEXAGON CONSORTIUM**, feeling the weight of his nerves with each pedal. The towering 80-story building gleamed in the distance, and his heart raced as he approached. But as soon as he reached the entrance, two towering security guards blocked his path. "Hey, beggar, where do you think you're going?" one of them sneered, eyeing Henry’s worn-out clothes and rusty bicycle with disgust. "This isn’t the place for people like you." Henry frowned, feeling a sting of humiliation. He tried to stay calm. “I’m here for an appointment. I’ve been invited to meet with the vice president.” The other guard, bigger and meaner-looking, crossed his arms and smirked. “An appointment? With the vice president?” He gave Henry a once-over and laughed. “Look at you! Trashy clothes, an old bike that looks like it’s about to fall apart. Who do you think you are? Get out of here before you embarrass the clients.” Henry clenched his fists, his frustration rising. "I’m telling you, I have an appointment," he insisted, trying to stay respectful. The big guard stepped forward aggressively and shoved Henry roughly. “I said, get lost!” he barked, his tone turning hostile. As Henry stumbled back, the black card and Mr. Anderson’s business card slipped from his pocket and fell to the ground. The guards froze when they saw the shiny black card on the pavement. Their eyes widened in shock as they whispered frantically to each other. They had clearly seen this type of card before—only the most powerful and wealthy carried it. Clearing their throats nervously, the smaller guard quickly muttered, “Uh, you can go in, but keep that lousy old bicycle far from the entrance. We don’t want anyone to see that piece of junk. It’ll ruin the consortium’s reputation.” Henry hesitated, his anger simmering. The guards had no right to treat him this way. Still, he swallowed his pride and nodded, deciding it wasn’t worth a fight. As he wheeled his bike behind the building to park it, he heard them snicker. “Don’t worry, no one’s going to steal that thing,” the big guard called after him, laughing. “It’s too useless for anyone to bother with or steal.” Ignoring their mocking laughter, Henry secured his bike behind the building and entered the grand lobby. The moment he stepped inside, he was greeted by a beautiful, smart-looking receptionist sitting behind a sleek marble desk. She was dressed impeccably, her hair styled in a neat bun. “Good afternoon, sir. How may I assist you?” she asked politely, her voice professional but kind. Henry cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m Henry. I’m here for a meeting with the vice president.”
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236. The Grand Finale
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234.The Grand Plan
Ethan stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection. Just weeks ago, he had been a nobody—an orphan struggling to survive, beaten down, bleeding in the streets, laughed at, discarded. Now, he was standing in a penthouse, draped in the finest clothes money could buy, staring at the skyline of a city he was about to conquer. But he wasn’t satisfied. Not yet. The world had taken everything from him. His identity. His family. His dignity. Now, it was his turn to take everything back. Ethan didn’t just want money. He wanted power. And power came with knowledge. With Henry Knights backing him, Ethan was thrust into a world he had never imagined. Private meetings with billionaires, closed-door deals with CEOs, whispers of the elite who controlled the world from the shadows. At first, they laughed at him—just like everyone else always had. They saw him as an outsider, a street rat pretending to wear a crown. That was their first mistake. Because Ethan wasn’t just preten
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232. The Hidden Heir
Chapter Thirty Two: Buried Secrets and Unraveled Truths Of The Hidden HeirEthan stared at Henry, his pulse hammering in his ears. The weight of what he had just heard pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket. Blood compatibility? The Knights name? This wasn’t just a coincidence—there was something deeper, something hidden in the shadows of his past.“You’re saying…” Ethan’s voice was hoarse. “I might be… related to you?”Henry exhaled sharply, standing up and pacing near the hospital window. “I don’t know for sure. But blood matches like this? They don’t just happen randomly. Not in the way the doctor described it.”Ethan swallowed hard. His mind raced back to the fragments of memories he barely clung to. His parents—who were they really? His childhood had been a blur of hardship, of barely scraping by, of always feeling like an outsider. No real records, no family history. Was it because his past had been deliberately erased?Henry suddenly stopped pacing, his jaw clenched. “I
231. The Rich Man Hit Me With His Limousine
Ethan’s footsteps echoed faintly along the quiet street as he walked home from school, his bag slung over his shoulder and his face still bruised from the day’s bullying. His head hung low, exhaustion weighing him down, but his mind was racing with determination. He refused to let their words define him, even as the pain gnawed at his body and heart.The air was cool, the street dimly lit by flickering lampposts. In the distance, the soft rumble of an approaching car broke the stillness. Ethan didn’t pay it much attention—until the roar of the engine grew louder, the sound of tires screeching jolting him to attention.Before he could react, the blinding headlights of a sleek black car came into view, barreling down the street. Time seemed to slow as the car swerved, skidding out of control and heading straight for him.Ethan tried to jump out of the way, but it was too late.The impact was brutal, sending him sprawling onto the pavement. Pain exploded through his body as he hit the gr
230. The Bully
The classroom echoed with laughter, the cruel, mocking kind that made the walls seem to close in around Ethan. His clothes were dirty and torn from the shove he’d just received, his knees scraped raw against the hard tile floor. A group of boys stood over him, sneering down, their faces twisted with malice.“Look at you,” one of them sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “The poor little charity case. Do you even have a decent pair of shoes, or are those borrowed too?”The others laughed, the sound echoing in Ethan’s ears like nails on a chalkboard. He clenched his fists, refusing to meet their eyes. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing the anger—and shame—burning inside him.One of them, a taller boy named Lucas, leaned down, grabbing the front of Ethan’s shirt. “You think you belong here? Huh? With people like us? You’re a joke, Knights. A nobody.”Ethan gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening as he tried to stay silent. But the sting of the words cut deeper than any p
229. From Begger To Boss
Ethan sat at his workbench, meticulously tightening a bolt on a worn-out carburetor. The rhythmic clinking of metal against metal was the only sound in the shop, a comforting melody that grounded him. Around him, the settlement was alive with the hum of industry—people working, laughing, and building something bigger than themselves.Jake walked in, wiping sweat from his brow. “The new shipment just came in from the border town. Got some good stuff this time—real parts, not the junk we usually get.”Ethan smiled, setting his tools down. “That’s great. We’ll start sorting through it later.”Jake plopped down onto a nearby crate. “You know, things are finally looking up. Feels... weird.”Ethan chuckled. “Weird?”“Yeah,” Jake said, shaking his head. “For so long, it felt like we were barely surviving, and now... we’ve got something real here.”Ethan nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. He could feel it—the calm before the storm. Everything was running smoothly, but he knew Eric wouldn’t s
228. New Heir
Chapter Twenty-ThreeA New BeginningEthan stood outside the workshop, watching the dust settle from Eric’s retreating vehicles. His chest heaved with relief, but his mind was already racing ahead. He knew this victory was temporary. Eric would regroup, and next time, he’d come back with something worse.Jake stepped up beside him, still clutching a metal pipe. “Think he’s gone for good?”Ethan shook his head. “No. He’s just licking his wounds. He’ll be back.”Gus, who had been watching from the shadows, grunted. “Then we need to make sure next time, he doesn’t get the chance to walk away.”Martha approached, her expression wary but proud. “You handled that well, Ethan. But this can’t be how you live—always waiting for the next fight.”Ethan exhaled slowly. “I know. That’s why I need to make this place strong. Strong enough to stand on its own.”Jake smirked, nudging him. “You got a plan for that too, boss?”Ethan’s eyes darkened with determination. “Yeah. I do.”---The next morning,
