Mr. Vance's Secret Fortune

ers until his toes felt numb. He stood on the sidewalk outside the towering glass office of Vanguard Architecture, holding a soggy cardboard box. Inside the box

orning drinking stale coffee to perfect the designs for the new city waterfront project. He had poured

mahogany table, wearing a tailored gray suit that cost more than Caspian made in a year. Presto

have decided to go with Preston's brilliant design for the waterfront

calculated curve of the roof, every single window placement was his work. Preston had

voice shaking. "I spent three months on those calculati

t yourself. Who do you think the board is going to believe? A broke intern from the slums, or a certified

eye. They all knew the truth, but money t

the feeling of total helplessness. He checked his phone. His bank account showed exactly twe

, his breath fogging in the cold air. "I

ny he had taking her to nice dinners, buying her clothes, and trying to make her feel special. He worke

e with trembling, wet

gs. She sounded distracted, the loud music o

voice steady. "Are you at the Bistro on 5th? Ca

t. It was cold, sharp, and completely devoid of the warmth he was used to. "You don'

omach, heavier than the rain soak

your cramped apartment. I am tired of walking everywhere because you can't afford a car. I am a beautiful woma

Gemma, please. I just got fired today because Preston stole my de

followed by a familiar, mocking chuckle.

ce boomed through the speaker. Caspian could

. I just bought her a diamond bracelet to celebrate my new project.

knuckles turning white as he gr

ton is a real man with a real future. He just took me to a five-star restaurant, and we are going to

ne wen

liation that finally broke free. He felt completely hollowed out. He had given everything to his job, and it w

The world was unfair. If you were poor, you were invisible. If you were poor, people coul

tted teeth, his body shaking with a mix o

ng into a puddle. The cheap plastic mug shattered. The blueprint soaked up the d

gging his feet. He had no job, no money, no girlfriend, and no fu

of bright headlights blinded him. The loud, synchronized roar of heavy engines echoed

he corner, its tires gripping the wet aspha

up to the curb, completely blocking the street. They were the kind of cars used by foreign presidents

a smooth stop right

men in perfectly tailored black suits, wearing earpieces and carrying umbrellas, stepped out in perfec

gh-profile political hit or a mafia meetup. He stepped back, intending to run down the subway stairs, but two of the s

of the main, cente

e three-piece suit and carried a gold-headed walking cane. Despite the pouring rain, a bodyguard immedi

ly locking onto Caspian's soaking wet, shivering frame. A look o

m Caspian. The dozen bodyguards immediately formed a protective circle ar

at. "Look, if this is about the trash can I kicked,

etely. He took off his leather glove, tucked his cane un

and confusion, the wealthy old ma

with authority. "We have been searching for you for five long years. My nam

st name is Vance, but you have the wrong guy. I'm an orphan. I don't hav

r from his jacket. He opened it, revealing a thick stack of legal

er Caspian, sitting on a be

les Vance, the founder and absolute ruler of the Vance Logistics and Energy Empire. He passed away th

funded orphanage, always wondering why he was left behind. He had

whispered, his voice

oes not include the shipping fleets, the real estate properties across three continents, or the pr

is broken shoes, then at the sleek black cars, and finally

ldn't even keep a girlfriend because of his empty pockets. Now, a man in a multi-million

gniting in his chest. The absolute despair he felt a moment ago

er left one very specific condition in his contract before you can openly claim the throne. If you

s daze, his eyes narrowin