Chapter 5 What a Miserable Life You've Lived

Max held the papers again, but this time with a newfound sense of determination as he examined them carefully. He discovered that they owned substantial shares in multinational corporations, influencing everything from consumer goods to media conglomerates.

With a serious tone, Max remarked, "It is said that the Holden name can open doors even the most powerful can only dream of entering."

A surge of power and vengeance coursed through his veins as he continued, refusing to forgive anyone who had humiliated or caused him suffering. Taking a deep breath, he declared, "I worked as nothing more than trash. Everyone mocked me. I juggled three jobs without sleep, encountering problems at every turn. I endured it all, but now I'll become someone who can crush them all. I'll make them bow and suffer."

Just then, a knock at the door broke his train of thought. A woman in her forties entered, tears welling in her eyes. "Max! My son, I can't believe I'm seeing you after all these years."

She approached him slowly, overwhelmed with joy, and hugged him tearfully. "You probably don't remember me, Max. You were taken from me, stolen from my arms."

Max embraced her warmly, a smile spreading across his face. "I've lived my life as an orphan without a family. But now, it's time for my return-the return of the millionaire."

He then turned to hug his grandfather, a fierce resolve in his eyes. He vowed to make everyone regret their actions and promised to become the strongest heir. He added confidently, "I'm thrilled to be your grandson. Just wait until the semester ends... only two weeks, and everything will be over. Then, I'll return ready to assume my responsibilities as heir. Until then, I'll keep my identity hidden."

His grandfather smiled knowingly, understanding that Max had unfinished business to attend to. He believed Max was worthy of the Holden legacy-the Holden bloodline coursed through his veins. As Max left the mansion quietly, a newfound sense of joy filled his heart.

Bill, the personal butler, approached Max with confident strides and a wide smile. "Oh, Master Max, Mr. Holden wanted to give you a small token of his appreciation." From his pocket, he pulled out a small velvet box and slowly opened it. Inside lay a gold watch encrusted with diamonds, glimmering brilliantly under the sunlight. "This is a special edition, made exclusively for you."

Max stared at the watch in awe. "But... I don't need something this extravagant right now. Isn't this too much?"

Michael smiled slyly and replied, "Young Master, this is far less than what you deserve. Mr. Holden said no heir of the Holden family should wear anything less than perfection."

As Max struggled to respond, Holden himself entered the room, wearing a long coat and holding an ivory cane. He approached his grandson with measured steps and spoke in a calm yet authoritative voice: "Max, you must learn to accept grand gestures without hesitation. You are now the sole heir of the Holden family, and this is just the beginning."

Surrounded by personal guards, Max began to feel the weight of the power he now wielded. The grandeur and luxury were merely a façade for something far greater, and he was ready to confront it.

Facing his grandfather, Max said firmly, "Grandfather, I can accept your gift now. But as I told you, give me two weeks to return as the heir. With this level of security, my identity will no longer remain hidden."

Holden understood his reasoning and agreed. For now, Max would keep the money and the watch. When the time came, he would return with guards at his side, driving luxury cars and donning the finest tailored suits adorned with gold.

---

Golden rays of sunlight filtered through the window, waking Max Holden earlier than usual. He quickly prepared himself, rushing to catch the bus to reach the bank in the bustling heart of New York's business district.

After some time, Max arrived at the bank, situated in the heart of wealth and opulence. The sight of luxury cars lining the streets and the aura of affluence surrounding the area did not faze him. He entered the grand institution with deliberate composure, pushing the heavy door open intentionally.

In his haste, he accidentally bumped into a young woman-stunning, with long hair and an air of elegance.

The woman, exuding arrogance and irritation, snapped, "You! Watch where you're going. What a miserable wretch you are!"

She looked him up and down, astonished that someone who appeared so impoverished could be in a place meant for the wealthy elite. Max's appearance was indeed strikingly out of place-his cheap, tattered clothes told the story of a life marked by hardship. His torn trousers and worn-out, shabby shoes spoke volumes about his inability to afford proper attire.

The young woman, as it turned out, was none other than Sarah Ambrose, heiress to one of the wealthiest families in the world.

Steadying himself, Max apologized sincerely, "I am truly sorry for this unfortunate incident." His words, however, only seemed to fuel her anger.

With a smirk tinged with amusement, Sarah retorted, "People like you can't even afford proper clothes!"

Their exchange drew the attention of the receptionist and the assistant manager, who approached the scene out of curiosity. The tension in the air thickened, but it wasn't long before Sarah's father intervened, taking control of the situation and ensuring any lingering discomfort was dispelled.

Eventually, Sarah departed, leaving Max standing alone with the receptionist. The receptionist's critical gaze lingered on Max, her curiosity mingled with suspicion.

"May I ask what brings you here?" she inquired disdainfully.

"I came to withdraw money from my account," Max replied calmly.

"Do you even have a bank card?" she asked skeptically, her eyes scanning his disheveled appearance.

"I'm afraid I don't," Max admitted honestly.

The receptionist's brows furrowed in disbelief as she exchanged a glance with the assistant manager. Muttering under her breath, her curiosity seemed to grow.

Max, unfazed by her skepticism, maintained his composure, refusing to rise to her judgment.