A cab soon pulled up in front of the grand entrance of the Peninsula Hotel, and from it Rick stepped out onto the clean pavement.
He hadn't changed his clothes and was still wearing the same pair of dark jeans, a plain t-shirt, and some casual trainers. He looked like any other average guy off the street, someone who had just rolled out of bed to grab a coffee.
He tilted his head back, looking up at the massive, towering structure.
The Peninsula was a fortress of the rich, an absolute luxury. Valets in crisp red uniforms were busy parking Lamborghinis, Rolls-Royces, and Bentleys.
The revolving glass doors gleamed perfectly in the setting sun, guarded by men in tailored suits. This entire place was a goldmine to strip the elites of their money. And he owned exactly half of it.
"Damn! How the tables have turned," Rick could not help but smile ear to ear thinking about that.
After paying the cab driver, Rick slipped his new phone into his pocket and walked straight through the revolving doors.
The men at the entrance looked at him from top to bottom, gave him a courtesy bow and let him in without any obstruction.
Inside the hotel, the lobby was breathtaking.
A massive crystal chandeliers hung from high vaulted ceilings, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow.
As he walked further along, his eyes fell on the floor beneath him. The floors were made of polished white marble that looked clean enough to eat off.
Wealthy guests in tailored suits and designer dresses mingled softly, sipping champagne while waiting for their luxury suites.
However Rick ignored all of it, as he walked straight towards the grand reception desk, cutting straight through the crowd.
A young, pretty receptionist in a sharp uniform looked at him. Her professional smile faltered for a second as she took in his casual, cheap-looking clothes, but she quickly recovered her composure.
"Good afternoon, sir," she said politely, though her tone was guarded, "How can I help you?"
"I am here to meet someone important," Rick told the receptionist.
"Sir, you want me to book a business suite for you?" The receptionist ask.
"Naah! I need you to point me to the boardroom," Rick stated flatly, "I would like to have a meeting with whoever is in charge of this place."
"Huh?!" The receptionist blinked, and her professional smile vanished, replaced by a look of undeniable confusion.
"I am sorry, sir? I don't think I heard you right" she asked, her brow furrowing in bewilderment, "You were saying..."
"Let's not stretch it. I am here to have a meeting with the board of directors. Get me anyone who is qualified enough to get it done, and point me in the direction of the boardroom."
"I am sorry sir, but the boardroom is strictly restricted. There are absolutely no meetings scheduled for anyone outside the executive board today. Are you sure you are in the right hotel?"
"I am..." Rick replied without a hint of hesitation.
"I... I can't do that, sir," she stammered, looking nervously at his plain t-shirt, "I don't have the autho..."
But before she could continue, a loud, highly arrogant voice interrupted from behind him.
"Is this some kind of sick joke?"
Hearing the voice, Rick turned his head slowly. Standing a few feet away was a young man, drowning in riches.
He was wearing a loud, custom-fitted white suit, an obnoxious diamond watch, and his hair was slicked back with far too much gel. And wrapped tightly around his arm was a tall blonde woman wearing a dress that barely covered her ass.
"The servant's entrance is around the back of the building," the rich guy sneered, looking Rick up and down with absolute disgust. "This desk is for VIP guests. Not for beggars looking to clean the toilets."
"Darling, why are you wasting time on this disgusting fellow? Heheh," eThe blonde escort let out an irritating giggle, pressing her surgically enhanced breasts against his arm, "Take me to your room already. This dress feels so tight."
Rick stared at the guy and the girl openly flirting withy him with dead, flat eyes.
He didn't get angry. He didn't feel insulted. He just felt deeply annoyed that an insect was buzzing in his ear when he had a billion-dollar hotel to claim.
"Fuck off," Rick said bluntly, turning his attention back to the receptionist. "The boardroom. Which elevator?"
The rich guy's face instantly turned bright red. Nobody talked to him like that in his own playground. Fuck that too in front of his girl?
"Do you know who I am, you piece of trash?!" the guy shouted, causing several wealthy guests in the lobby to stop and stare.
"If you knew who my mother was, you would be grovelling in my feet. This hotel is my turf you dirty little beggar."
He stepped forward and grabbed Rick by his t-shirt, "Leave while you can still walk on your own two feet. Or else, I am going to break your legs and have the security throw you out into the gutter!"
"You were original to threaten me with your mother. But this is your first and last mistake," Rick didn't hesitate, as he grabbed the guy by his wrist and twisted it sharply to the side.
Crack!
"Aaaargh!" The boy screamed as he felt his wrist snap out of its socket. The intense, agonizing pain forced his body to bend sideways at an awkward angle.
But Rick didn't stop just with that. With the boy bent over sideways completely helpless, Rick raised his right hand and brought it down with full force.
Slap!
He hit the guy across the face with a brutal, heavy backhand, and the sharp sound of the slap cracked through the lobby like a gunshot.
Slap!
Rick hit him again, this time on the back of his head.
Slap!
Slap!
Rick delivered two more vicious slaps in rapid succession, treating the spoiled heir like an absolute punching bag, before finally letting go of the broken wrist and drove his right fist directly into the guy's stomach with brutal, ruthless force.
BAAM!
The impact sounded like a baseball bat hitting a sack of wet meat. All the air violently left the boy's lungs. His eyes went wide and almost fell out of the sockets.
He fell face first and slammed hard onto the polished marble floor, groaning in pain.
"Eeeeeek!" the blonde beauty shrieked at the top of her lungs, terrified as she jumped backwards so fast that she tripped over her own six-inch high heels, falling hard onto her ass.
"He's a psycho! He is going to kill him! Somebody help me! Save me!" She scrambled backwards on the marble floor like a panicked crab, crying out for help, not caring what happened to the guy.
The entire lobby went completely, dead silent, and the music playing in the background seemed to fade away.
The wealthy women in designer dresses gasped, covering their mouths in a mix of pure shock and a ting of awe at the display of physical dominance.
The men, however, scowled and muttered to themselves, looking down on Rick with complete disdain, viewing him as nothing more than a savage brute ruining their elegant atmosphere.
"Hey! Stop right there!"
But ignoring all of them, just as Rick was about to finish the job, a loud voice echoed through the lobby.