I Inherited Trillions, Now What?

The hallways of the boarding school gleamed with sophistication, a testament to the institution's wealth and prestige. The marble floors reflected the warm glow of modern chandeliers, their designs a blend of classical grandeur and sleek contemporary art. On either side of the hall, ornate pillars stood tall, separating walls now being transformed into interactive displays, the latest technological addition to the school. Rows of high-tech lockers with customizable screens were being installed, their glossy surfaces catching the light as workers moved briskly about.

Among the busy scene, Dr. Evelyn Thatcher strode through the hallway with purpose. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, the sound swallowed by the soft hum of the workers' tools. She rounded a corner and spotted a group of workers clustered near one of the unfinished displays.

"Add the wiring behind the panel before securing the interactive screen!" barked a man, clearly the supervisor, pointing to a worker struggling with some cables.

Evelyn approached them, her presence commanding despite her relatively petite frame. "Hello," she said, her tone sharp enough to make the supervisor turn.

The man turned to face her, his eyes sweeping her up and down in an almost exaggerated manner. A grin spread across his face, smug and unmistakably flirtatious. "Hello there. And how may I be of service?" he asked, his smile lingering a little too long.

Evelyn, who had long grown numb to such nonsense, ignored the inappropriate energy entirely. "Good morning," she said briskly, her voice clipped. "I need some of your men to help me with something."

The supervisor spread his arms theatrically, gesturing to his crew. "As you can see, my men are busy," he said, his smile unwavering. "Headmaster's orders—we need to get this done before first period ends. I'm sorry, lady, but you're out of luck."

Evelyn raised a single unimpressed brow, her tone icy. "Well, the very headmaster who gave you these orders is the reason I need your help," she snapped. "She's in my classroom right now and needs a set of chairs to sit. I came to get one of you to carry it from the storeroom, but clearly, I was mistaken to expect competence here. I'll figure it out myself," she finished, her words dripping with dismissal as she turned to leave.

"Wait, wait!" the supervisor called after her, the smile faltering for a moment before he plastered it back on.

Evelyn turned back, her expression a mix of annoyance and impatience.

The man raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. "I said my boys are working. I didn't say anything about me," he added, the grin on his face growing wider.

Evelyn narrowed her eyes, unimpressed but slightly intrigued. "Then hurry up," she said coolly. "I don't have all day."

As they made their way back from the storeroom, the hallway leading to Dr. Thatcher's classroom was quieter now, the hum of distant activity fading into the background. Matthias, the supervisor, was clearly struggling under the weight of the chair he was carrying. The chair, one of the Montgomery student-designated seats, was imposing. Made from solid mahogany with intricate carvings and gold accents, it had plush, deep-cushioned upholstery fit for royalty. The sheer craftsmanship screamed luxury, but it also explained why the chair was so outrageously heavy.

Dr. Thatcher glanced back, concern flickering across her face as she watched Matthias, who by all appearances was no small man. Standing at an intimidating 6'3", his broad shoulders and jacked physique suggested he could bench press a small car. Yet, even with his impressive build, he looked like he was battling with every step.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her tone softer now, noting the strain on his face and the slight wobble in his step.

Matthias forced a pained laugh, though his voice betrayed the effort it took to reply. "I'm good. Really," he said, though his reddened face and the beads of sweat forming on his forehead suggested otherwise.

Dr. Thatcher raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Are you sure?" she pressed again.

"Yes, I'm fine," he blurted out quickly, his tone just a little too defensive. "But...how much longer until we get to your classroom?"

"Not far," she said, glancing ahead. "Soon, soon."

As she walked, her thoughts wandered to the headmaster—Montgomery. Dr. Thatcher was no stranger to excellence, her qualifications and accomplishments placing her among the best in her field. Few could rival her credentials. Yet, even with her expertise, she felt unnerved by the headmaster. Forgetting their first meeting, the name alone was enough to send a chill down her spine. Montgomery. It was the same name etched above the opulent hall reserved for the school's ultra-elite students. A name that carried a weight of power, prestige, and untouchable authority. Their first meeting had been enough to instill a sense of unease that lingered still, her mind instinctively recoiling from the memory.

She shook her head slightly, brushing away the thought. The classroom wasn't far now.

"We're here," Dr. Thatcher announced as they reached the door.

Matthias let out a loud sigh of relief, his face drenched in sweat despite the building's perfectly chilled air-conditioned environment. "Oh, thank God," he muttered, setting the chair down momentarily to rest his arms, his hand wiping across his forehead before placing it on his head in an exaggerated gesture of exhaustion.

Dr. Thatcher reached for the door, pushing it open as she called out, "Sorry for the delay, Headma—"

Her words froze mid-sentence.

The classroom was completely empty.

The headmaster, her students—everyone was gone. The rows of desks sat eerily still, their polished surfaces gleaming under the overhead lights, untouched.

Before Dr. Thatcher could fully process the bizarre sight, a loud thud beside her made her jump. "Hey!" she yelped, turning sharply to see Matthias slumped against the wall, his hand dramatically resting on his head as he exhaled loudly.

"Whew," he said, grinning faintly through his exhaustion. "Finally."

The relief on his face quickly gave way to confusion as he looked into the empty classroom. "Wait...where is everyone?"

Dr. Thatcher exhaled deeply, her annoyance flickering back to life. "I don't know," she replied, her voice tight with irritation.

Matthias raised an eyebrow, his eyes darting between her and the room. "So…what do we do now?"

Dr. Thatcher turned to him, her expression unreadable. Then she spoke, her words sharp and final. "I'm not sure. But first of all, we should carry the chair back to the storeroom."

Meanwhile, in a secluded area slightly away from the main buildings, a woman sat in her office. The building stood as a stark contrast to the cutting-edge technological advancements and installations happening throughout the school. This structure was a testament to time, with its historic architecture and imposing presence. Thick stone walls and towering archways framed the spacious room, illuminated by the soft glow of sunlight filtering through tall, stained-glass windows. The wooden floor creaked faintly underfoot, and intricate carvings adorned the heavy mahogany furniture. Despite its age, the space exuded an air of timeless prestige and authority.

Inside the room, the headmaster, Amélie Montgomery, sat comfortably at her large antique desk. A silver tea set gleamed beside her, and she delicately lifted a porcelain cup to her lips, savoring the warm brew. A staff member had just brought it in, and Amélie had smiled graciously.

"Thank you, Amber," she said warmly.

Amber nodded politely and quietly excused herself, leaving the headmaster alone with her thoughts—and her guests.

Amélie placed her teacup back on its saucer with a soft clink, her lips curving into a smile as she looked ahead. "Now then," she began, her tone light but laced with underlying authority, "about you seven." Her gaze swept across the students seated in front of her. "Whatever are we going to do with you?"

This chapter is dedicated to AddictedReaderr thanks again hope you like it

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