Andros_Karova

Ethan Cross was just a broke university student, juggling part-time delivery jobs and barely making ends meet. To make things worse, his girlfriend dumped him for a rich guy, calling him "a loser with no future."

But fate had other plans.

On a whim, he bought an old painting at an auction for $50, not knowing it would change his life forever. That painting was once the most treasured possession of Alexander Langford, the world's richest man who had just passed away. And in his will, Langford made a shocking decision:

Whoever bought the painting would inherit his entire fortune.

Now, Ethan is the heir to a trillion-dollar empire, with mansions, private jets, elite companies, and more money than he can ever spend. But wealth comes with its own dangers—rival corporations, underground syndicates, and even secret cults want him dead.

To make matters more complicated, Langford’s final wish was for Ethan to marry his only daughter, Myra Langford—a cold and mysterious beauty with a past of her own.

With power beyond imagination, enemies lurking in the shadows, and a woman he can’t understand, Ethan must navigate this new world while keeping his true strength hidden.

From rags to royalty… his reign has just begun.

Streets to Fortune

Ethan stepped out of the steaming shower, his body relaxed but his mind active. The weight of everything James had told him still lingered, but he had already made up his mind about one thing—nothing about his daily life should change.

He smirked as he walked toward the sleek, expansive walk-in closet. The space was filled with high-end designer suits, shoes worth thousands, and accessories that could buy someone a car.

All of it was tailored to perfection.

All of it was completely useless for what he had in mind.

He grabbed his phone and sent James a message.

> Ethan: I need cheap, regular clothes. No brands. No logos. Just basic stuff.

James: …Understood, Young Master. I'll have them delivered within the hour.

Ethan chuckled. He could almost feel James wincing at the idea of him wearing anything that wasn't tailored.

Still, it was necessary. He had been living as an average university student for too long—suddenly showing up dressed like a billionaire would raise questions he didn't want to answer.

For now, it was better to remain invisible.

True to his word, James had the clothes delivered in record time.

Ethan opened the package to find a few simple outfits—basic hoodies, plain t-shirts, faded jeans, and a pair of worn-out sneakers that looked like they had seen better days.

He dressed in a black hoodie, slightly loose jeans, and the old sneakers. Checking himself in the mirror, he smirked.

No one would ever suspect a thing.

James, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "If I may, Young Master, this is… quite the drastic downgrade."

Ethan grinned. "That's the point."

James sighed but nodded. "Very well. I trust you know what you're doing."

Ethan grabbed his phone and checked the time. 10:40 AM.

"Let's go," he said. "We have a meeting at ten."

James gestured toward the private elevator. "Of course."

As they arrived at the underground parking lot, Ethan walked past the Rolls-Royce and headed for a more inconspicuous vehicle—a simple, slightly worn-out Toyota Camry.

James arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

Ethan chuckled as he slid into the passenger seat. "Gotta stay in character."

James sighed but drove without another word.

They arrived just as students were milling about, either rushing to their next classes or loitering in small groups.

Ethan leaned back in his seat, watching them.

Some of his classmates were still talking about the class dinner at Royal Garden tonight. He could hear them mocking him, already convinced he would embarrass himself.

James parked near a side street, avoiding attention. "I'll wait here, Young Master."

Ethan nodded, opening the door. "I won't be long."

He stepped out, blending effortlessly into the crowd as he walked toward his first class.

At least, that's what everyone else would think.

Chapter 22 – The Art of Staying Low-Key