Trillionaire Son-In-Law: Blake Richardson

Gold Corp

Blake kept the paper aside and emitted into a disbelieving laughter. He was amused, astonished, and skeptical.

His mother's dementia must have chipped in for her to think that they are wealthy. She didn't think of writing a small company's name but Gold Corp, the best in the world? What a parody! 

How is he the owner of such a company? If anything, they have been feeding from hand to mouth since their mother was alive, she was prominently not from a wealthy family either. 

He picked up the glistening gold-plated necklace. It looked new and shiny as though it was made today, Blake scrutinized it, he needn't be told that it cost a lot. 

With the necklace in his hand, he speculated the likelihood of what was written there being true, although he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge that. 

Blake picked up the paper and neatly tucked it in his pocket, there was a number on it. It might come in handy for him. 

He walked to the mirror and wore the necklace on his neck, walking out of the room right after.

He is going to ascertain if what his mother wrote there was just from a woman who has dementia or if there is any truth in what she noted. 

Blake will start by checking the authenticity of the necklace. 

*******

Walking into the shop, he greeted by the assayed. 

“Welcome Sir, how may I help you?” he asked 

Blake withdrew the necklace and handed it to him. “I want to confirm its authenticity” he solicited. The man bobbed his head in assertion.

About ten minutes later, the assayer walked up to Blake with a tremendous smile on his face.

“This is pure gold sir, it was made in 2015 and is presently in demand. It's worth close to four hundred and fifty million dollars right now. I heard just one person from the Richardson’s is in possession of this. You must be from a wealthy family” he articulated. 

That could be the only explanation as to why he has a grand necklace. Blake stood still, ripples of electricity washed through his body from the shock of learning the truth. 

Four hundred and fifty million? How did this get to his mother? He amassed the necklace, paid the man, smiled, and left in a trance. 

At that period, Blake realized that the necklace was produced by Gold Corp. The only way he could get a justification is by going to the said corporation. 

He took a taxi and in no time, he was right in front of the prestigious Gold Corp. 

The exterior of the building is a marvel of contemporary design, its facade a seamless blend of reflective glass panels and polished steel, catching the sunlight in a dazzling display. 

Towering above the cityscape, the structure commands attention with a sleek and imposing presence.

A meticulously landscaped plaza surrounds the entrance, featuring modern sculptures and calming water features.

The construction itself was exquisite, screaming power and wealth. Blake walked to the front desk while taking note of everything. 

Everything was made of gold, including the floor. “What are you doing here? Did you get lost on your way?” Blake lifted his head, looked around, and then at the receptionist.

Was she talking to him? “Why are you looking around? Is there any other person here aside from you?” Cheryl uttered haughtily.  

“Please, can I see the general manager? I have something to discuss with him” he appealed as reasonably as he could. 

Cheryl took in his appearance and laughed. “The manager does not know someone like you. You look haggard and dirty, he can't associate himself with a lowlife like you” she affronted in a disrespectful form. 

“Do you know me from somewhere?” Blake asked in discomfort, gaining a scornful look from her. 

“I don't need to know you to characterize your nature. Your look says it all, you are just a destitute beggar who is here to rip some money off the manager” Cheryl snickered, leaving Blake in perplexity. 

If they have never met before, how can she be so rude to him because of the way he looks? Does she have anything against him? 

“Get out of here if you don't want the securities to come and throw you out to the trench you belong to” she sneered, throwing daggers at him. 

Blake bundled his hand since that was the only thing he could do at that moment. 

He took a few steps back, and with a displeased look at Cheryl, he ducked his hand in his pocket, bringing out the paper he kept earlier. 

He should have called before coming here to save himself the embarrassment if this number turned out not to be in existence. 

He will have to call the number since he is already here. Blake inserted the number, thankfully, it was ringing, and the person picked up the call on the third ring. 

“Williams Martin speaking. Who is on the line, please?” a powerful and commanding voice resonated in Blake's ears, conveying a sense of authority. 

Williams Martin, the current CEO of Gold Corp, is known for his dominance, fearlessness, and zeal to win. The number on the paper wasn't just real, it was the number of the most powerful person in the city and beyond, right now. 

“Hello?” his voice resounded again, jolting Blake back to reality. He clears his throat, a brief yet audible sound cutting through the silence, signaling his intention to speak and capturing the attention of Cheryl and the people around him.

“Blake, Blake Richardson” he introduced. A fleeting tranquil descends, creating a suspended pause in the conversation. 

“Blake Richardson?” Mr. Martin recounted. The shock in his voice was evident as he reacted to the spontaneous statement, expressing surprise in his tone. 

“Yes,” Blake replied in confirmation, followed by an inaudible scream from the phone. 

“Sir, Where are you right now? I will come and meet you” Mr. Martin inquired, leaving Blake in confusion at the sudden change in his voice. 

Sir? Why did he call him that? “In front of the company,” he tended amidst the chaos going on in his head. The phone call ceased immediately after his reply. 

Cheryl laughed mockingly, her tone ringing with sarcasm, emphasizing the mockery in every scornful chuckle. 

“Did you get denied? You must be stupid to think you can walk in here with your stinky body and ask for the manager. You irritate me” Cheryl ridiculed.

Like he has been doing, Blake ignored her, waiting patiently for Mr. Martin. Two minutes later, the middle-aged man walked in. 

His posture exudes strength, and the room seems to concede his presence as he moves, commanding attention effortlessly, with everyone bowing to him in respect. 

Cheryl smiled upon sighting the CEO. “Mr. Martin is no joke, he will embarrass you and send you out of here” she chortled. 

She ran towards Mr. Martin with a scheme to ruin Blake's image. “Sir, this homeless man has been constituting nuisance in the company. He is nothing but a shameless beggar” she whined. 

But to her amazement, Mr. Martin recognized Blake. He shot her a deathly glare, giving her a resounding slap that sent waves of electricity into her body, startling her to the core.   

“Do you think you can do anything because of the position of your father as the marketing department team leader? Do you have any idea who you just called homeless?” Mr. Martin chastised in rage. 

He walked up to Blake, accompanied by a graceful bow that shocked everyone around. 

“Welcome back, young lord. I have been waiting for you”