Chapter 4
The family dinner was finally over.
I walked Emily out to her car, because she had one and I officially didn't.
She drove a white Honda Civic with a payment of thirteen hundred dollars a month.
"How are you getting home?" she asked.
"Subway," I replied.
She gave me a look, like she wanted to say something but held back.
Then she dug a subway card out of her bag and tossed it my way.
"There's a few bucks left on it. Don't blow it all at once," she said.
I caught it.
I stood there and watched her car shrink into the distance.
Once her taillights disappeared around the corner, I pulled out my phone.
"Richard, send a car to the back door of Grant Gourmet," I said, keeping my voice casual.
"Right away, sir. Three minutes," Richard replied.
Two and a half minutes later, a black Maybach pulled up in front of me, smooth and silent.
Richard got out from the front seat and opened the back door for me.
I slid into the seat, leaned back, and closed my eyes.
"Sir, about the situation in Ostville—" Richard started.
"First thing tomorrow, get their lead man on a video call. No need to fly out. And what about the Mason family? Any cash flow trouble lately?" I asked.
"Yeah, one of their projects tanked, so they're strapped for cash right now," Richard replied.
"That makes things simpler," I said, opening my eyes. "They're not looking to buy, they just want to stir things up. We don't need to raise our offer. Before we head to Ostville, let's talk to the Mason family's bankers."
"Understood," Richard replied.
The car glided through the night.
My phone buzzed again.
It was a message from Emily.
Emily: [Are you home yet?]
I replied: [Almost there.]
Emily: [Is the subway even still running this late?]
I sent: [Yeah, the last train hasn't gone yet.]
Emily: [Don't get home too late next time.]
I stared at her messages for a few seconds.
Then I typed back: [Okay.]
Emily was good to me.
She had no idea who I really was.
To her, I was the little brother who never got a real job after college, living off our parents for three years, just gaming and ordering takeout all day.
She worried about Mom and Dad.
She thought I was a disappointment.
Every time she picked on me or bossed me around, she was hoping to push me into getting a job.
There was one thing she didn't know.
The company she stayed at until eleven every night belonged to me.
The heartless capitalist boss she had cursed a thousand times was me.
The hand that approved her department's budget was mine.
All of it belonged to her little brother.
Why didn't I tell her?
It was a long story.
But to put it simply, it was all because of my grandpa's dying wish.
"Keep a low profile, build up your strength, and don't let anyone know who you are until you've got your footing. Not even your family."
When Grandpa passed away, I was only nineteen.
He left me more than 107 billion dollars, and he also handed me a whole system for keeping my identity hidden. Every legal owner, nominee, and trust was run by a team Richard had built.
My name never appeared in any public records.
The reason was simple.
Grandpa's business empire was huge, and after he was gone every big player out there went hunting for his successor. If they found me, they would either try to win me over or swallow me whole.
The Mason Family was one of them.
So I lay low for three years.
During those three years, I ran the whole business empire from a single laptop, shuffling between my dingy rental and the spare room at my sister's place.
As far as my family was concerned, I was just a washed-up, unmotivated loser, twenty-six and still living off my folks.
Sometimes I wanted to come clean.
But every time that thought crossed my mind, I remembered the way Grandpa looked at me that last time.
It wasn't warm or gentle.
It was sharp, almost piercing.
"The one who can hold out the longest is the one who wins the most."
So I accepted it.
I would keep putting up with it.