The Slumdog Billionaire

6. Lost 500 Million Dollars

Chapter Six

The receptionist’s eyes widened for a brief second, and then she quickly stood up, her posture becoming more respectful.

“Oh! Of course, Mr. Henry Knight.The vice president has been expecting you.”

Her sudden change in tone caught Henry off guard, but he followed her as she led him to a private glass elevator.

The elevator had a spectacular view of the city as it ascended, and Henry couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe as the towering buildings of the metropolis came into view.

When the elevator reached one of the highest floors, the doors slid open with a soft *ding*. Henry stepped out and immediately found himself in front of an office that was unlike anything he had ever seen.

It was sleek, modern, and smelled faintly of expensive perfume. The vice president’s office was filled with rich, dark furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the skyline.

But what really caught Henry off guard was the person standing behind the desk. He had expected to see an old, balding man with a potbelly—the type of executive he imagined ran the show in a place like this.

Instead, he was greeted by a stunningly beautiful young woman, who looked like she was still in her twenties.

She had long, straight black hair that cascaded down her back, and she wore a perfectly tailored business suit that hugged her curves in all the right places.

Her lips were painted a deep, dark red, and her nails were polished to match. She exuded confidence and power, and for a moment, Henry was too stunned to speak.

“Good day, young master,” she greeted him, extending her hand for a handshake.

“My name is Zara. Welcome.”

Henry, still trying to process everything, took her hand and shook it awkwardly. He couldn’t believe this elegant young woman was the vice president.

Zara, on the other hand, was equally surprised. Mr. Anderson had told her that the heir to the consortium would be arriving, and she had pictured a much older, seasoned businessman.

But instead, standing in front of her was a muscular fit tall, handsome man with piercing blue eyes, wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans. Despite his casual attire, there was something commanding about his presence.

“Please, have a seat,” Zara said, motioning to the leather chair in front of her desk. Henry sat down, still feeling out of place in the grand office.

“What can we offer you?” Zara asked with a polite smile trying hard not to blush and remain professional.

“Uh, anything is fine,” Henry replied, unsure of what to say.

Zara turned to the receptionist who had escorted Henry upstairs.

“Please get us the finest Italian champagne,” she said smoothly.

The receptionist nodded and left the room, leaving Henry and Zara alone.

Henry fidgeted in his chair, feeling out of his depth in such a luxurious setting.

“Why was I invited here?” he asked, finally cutting to the point. He wasn’t interested in pleasantries or champagne—he just wanted answers.

Zara smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You were invited because you own this entire building, Mr. Henry.”

Henry blinked, his brain refusing to process her words.

“I…what?”

Zara nodded. “Yes, this building—HEXAGON—and many others. You are the heir to the consortium, and from now on, I will need your consent before making any major decisions regarding the business. Everything you see here belongs to you.”

Henry’s mouth went dry. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him as he struggled to comprehend what Zara was telling him.

“This…this can’t be real,” he muttered to himself, choking on his own spit as he tried to process the words. He pinched his arm, half-expecting to wake up from a dream.

But the room around him remained the same. Zara was still there, watching him with a patient smile.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” she said softly.

“But it’s the truth. You’re the future president of this consortium, and we’ve been waiting a long time to bring you back.”

Henry leaned back in his chair, his heart pounding in his chest. He stared out the window, looking down at the city far below.

Could it really be true? Could he, a man who had lived his life scraping by, suddenly be the heir to a massive fortune?

“Am I truly a billionaire heir? None of this is a dream” he whispered to himself, still unable to believe it.

Stella sat in the plush waiting room of the **Hexagon Consortium**, her foot tapping impatiently against the marble floor. She huffed loudly, crossing her arms.

“How long are we supposed to wait? Doesn’t she know who we are?” she hissed, her voice dripping with entitlement.

Stefan, her fiancé, sat beside her, checking his watch for the hundredth time.

“I don’t understand why we’re being kept waiting this long,” he muttered.

“We have a meeting with the vice president, not some low-level executive. This is unacceptable.”

Stella rolled her eyes, her frustration boiling over.

“Exactly! We shouldn’t be treated like this. I’m not used to waiting around like a commoner,” she sneered, her voice rising as her patience wore thin.

“Does this vice president even know who she’s dealing with?”

Just then, a receptionist walked by, carrying a bottle of Italian champagne that looked far too expensive to be touched by human hands.

The label on the bottle gleamed, and Stella knew instantly that it was worth a fortune. She later found out it was priced at a staggering $900,000.

The receptionist, hearing Stella’s loud complaint, stopped in her tracks and turned to address her calmly.

“Ma’am, please don’t hiss like that,” she said with a polite but firm tone.

“We expect professionalism in this building. It could affect your contract application.”