I Inherited Trillions, Now What?

Inside the general area of the school, students from the various prestigious halls sat together in their classes.

Inside one of the classrooms, it was nothing short of extraordinary. Spacious and impeccably designed, it had sleek, high-tech desks paired with ergonomic chairs. A massive interactive smartboard dominated the front wall, while large windows with velvet drapes offered a view of the perfectly manicured school gardens. The floors were polished to a mirror-like shine, and the ceiling had soft recessed lighting that gave the space an almost luxurious glow. Every detail screamed wealth and sophistication, from the custom-built bookshelves lined with rare textbooks to the individual tablet screens embedded in each desk.

This particular classroom housed only 15 students, each coming from vastly different backgrounds but united by a common thread—they were all ridiculously wealthy. Among them was Clara Hill, who, at this stage, had settled in comfortably. Her initial worries before joining the school seemed like a distant memory now. She had made friends, found her footing, and, to her surprise, realized that the school wasn't filled with spoiled, obnoxious rich kids like her stepsister, Veronica.

Clara had expected the worst—arrogance, entitlement, and a complete lack of connection—but instead, she was pleasantly shocked to see that, despite their unimaginable privileges, her classmates were surprisingly... normal. Well, as normal as kids who could buy luxury cars at the snap of their fingers or casually plan holidays on private islands could be. They were still teenagers—laughing, joking, and even stressing over exams.

Okay, maybe she was sugarcoating it a little. These were normal students, but they had access to resources and wealth that made them anything but ordinary. If they wanted something, they got it—no questions asked. If they needed help with a project, they could call in private tutors or consultants from anywhere in the world. But instead of flaunting their riches obnoxiously, most of them carried it like a quiet confidence, making Clara realize that money wasn't the only thing setting them apart.

She realized what set her new classmates apart from her former ones was their mentality. In her previous school, most students hadn't figured out what they wanted to become or how they would shape their futures. But here, it was different. Every single person she had met—even Veronica—already had their futures mapped out. None of them were clueless or aimless. They were all driven, focused, and determined because they knew what they wanted and had a clear path to achieve it.

Clara understood why. It wasn't just ambition; it was the advantage of having parents with the resources to foster those dreams. It's always easier to take risks and set lofty goals when there's a massive safety net behind you. Add to that the fact that most of these students would either inherit or run their parents' multi-million or even multi-billion-dollar companies someday, and it all made sense.

The biggest shock for Clara, however, had been the curriculum. When her stepmother told her this school had a 100% acceptance rate to any college, Clara assumed it was simply because of the parents' money and influence. But after a few weeks here, she realized how wrong she'd been.

The teaching was on another level. The world-class teachers pushed them in ways Clara had never imagined, and the classwork itself felt like something out of a futuristic think tank. She vividly remembered her first experience in the school's Introduction to Ethical Hacking and Cybersecurity class. That day, they were given an actual hands-on assignment to design and execute a basic hack on a simulated database. It wasn't just theoretical—they worked in teams using real-world tools. Clara had been stunned by how advanced and practical the lesson was.

That wasn't the only shock. Back in her old schools, Clara had always been the best student, the one who easily outperformed her classmates. Here, she was merely above average—and it humbled her in ways she hadn't expected.

Sitting in class, Clara couldn't help but think about how wrong all those movies and TV shows were about rich kids. The typical stereotypes of spoiled, lazy, and shallow students didn't apply here. But then two faces popped into her mind, and she smirked to herself.

Her stepsister Veronica was exactly what you'd expect—a walking cliché of a spoiled, self-centered brat. And then there was the blonde girl she'd bumped into a few weeks ago. Her icy glare and air of superiority practically screamed "mean girl." If there was ever a stereotype brought to life, it was those two.

But apart from them? Well, Clara had to admit, this school was a world entirely its own, and she was slowly learning how to thrive in it.

While she was seated, the Introduction to Molecular and Materials Engineering teacher had just left the room. Clara sighed, resting her head on her desk. The class had been intense, and she was exhausted. As she let her head relax against the cool surface, she heard a voice coming from her right side. She was seated near the massive windows, which gave a breathtaking view of the entire school compound—the lush green lawns, intricate walkways, and ancient architecture blending seamlessly together.

"Hey, Clara," the voice said.

Turning her head, Clara saw Bella Sinclair walking toward her. Bella had striking auburn hair that cascaded down her back, light green eyes that always seemed to sparkle with mischief, and a warm, infectious smile that instantly lifted the mood of anyone around her. She carried herself with a confident ease, her tailored school uniform fitting perfectly, as if it had been designed specifically for her. Clara couldn't help but smile back at her closest friend since she started at this school.

"Hey," Clara replied, sitting up as Bella pulled up a chair beside her.

Bella had been the only daughter of real estate billionaire broker Donald Sinclair. Her childhood had been the exact opposite of Clara's—a life of privilege, luxury, and endless opportunities. Yet, despite their different upbringings, the two had become inseparable friends. They were also hallmates, which only strengthened their bond. As Bella opened her mouth to speak, another voice—this time male—cut through the moment.

"Don't you guys think something weird is going on?" the voice said.

Both girls turned their heads toward the speaker and saw Richard Minx, a fellow classmate. Richard's father was the owner of one of the biggest record labels in the world—something Clara knew all too well because Richard never stopped talking about it. He wasn't rude, per se, but his conversations always seemed to revolve around either his dad's label or some luxury item he was fascinated by at the moment.

"What do you mean?" came another voice. This time, it was Kim Seo Hyun, a Korean student whose mother was a world-renowned fashion designer and father a high-profile lawyer.

Bella chimed in too. "Yeah, what are you talking about?"

Richard pointed out the window. "Can't you see the guards? They're acting weird. Plus, when did we get this many guards just walking around?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

All the students, including Clara, turned to look outside. Richard wasn't exaggerating. The guards did seem unusually active, moving in coordinated patterns, talking into their earpieces, and glancing around constantly. And he was right about the number—there were far more guards than usual.

"Yeah, they do look like they're up to something," Kim said, her voice filled with curiosity.

Bella added, "What could be going on? Our next teacher isn't even here yet, and we all know Dr. Akande is never late." She finished speaking, drawing attention to the strange absence of their always-punctual instructor.

"What do you think it could be?" another student asked from the back of the classroom.

As if in response, the distant whirring sound of helicopter blades filled the air, growing louder and more distinct with every passing second. Everyone immediately knew what it was. Richard pressed his face against the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the helicopter descending onto the school grounds.

"Another Montgomery student?" someone speculated.

"But didn't one just arrive a few days ago? How many are coming? It's already the middle of the school year," another student grumbled. "I know they're supposed to be special, but this is just favoritism."

"What are you talking about?" someone else retorted. "As if the normal school rules apply to those ones."

The room broke into murmurs and debates.

"Who do you think it is?" one voice asked.

"I'm not sure," another replied. "There aren't many families with kids in this age group who qualify for Montgomery Hall, are there?"

"Well, clearly, there is," someone muttered.

As the chatter filled the room, Richard, still glued to the window, suddenly turned back toward the class. His voice, usually casual, was now loud and urgent. "Guys," he said, making everyone quiet down. His face was a mix of shock and excitement.

"What is it?" Bella asked, leaning forward.

Richard turned to face them, his eyes wide, his tone dropping into something between awe and disbelief. "It's not a new student," he said.

Clara blinked in confusion, her heart skipping a beat. "Huh?" she said, the idea not computing. The only people allowed to bring helicopters onto the school premises—any vehicles, for that matter—were the 'special students.'

But Richard's voice fell into a whisper as he said a name, one that sent a ripple of gasps, murmurs, and wide-eyed reactions through the entire room.

"That's… Alexander Blackwell."

I want to give a special thanks to Peanut_Butter_2757 for leaving such a beautiful comment on my previous chapter! It truly means so much to me that you're enjoying the book. And thank you so much for the Golden Ticket as well!

Because of your encouragement, I've decided to drop another chapter today. Honestly, I wasn't planning on uploading anything since work has been hectic, but seeing your comment really touched me and inspired me to write.

This chapter is dedicated to you. Thank you again for your amazing support!