I Inherited Trillions, Now What?-Chapter 87: Cars

Barbara sat in the chopper, the roar of the blades drowning out everything else. She had no idea where she was being taken. All she had been told was a single, cryptic instruction from her new boss: "Change the modification of the cars."

And now here she was—on her way to God knows where.

Across from her sat a woman who introduced herself as Miss Hawthorne. The name sounded elegant, calculated, but Barbara wasn’t in the mood to care.

She was still simmering with anger. The contract she had signed didn’t sit right with her. Every clause, every word felt like a trap, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had been played. If this was what she had agreed to, she thought, stealing a glance at the woman across from her—Miss Hawthorne, with that same impassive face as their boss—then what kind of contract would she have been made to sign, considering how much closer she was to him?

Her thoughts drifted to the woman who had led her to the room earlier—so sweet, so kind. What about her? What kind of deal had she been forced into?

Her impression of Alexander Blackwell was at an all-time low. She had always known—thanks to her upbringing—that not all rich people were kind. In fact, most of them weren’t. But this? This was a first for her. He had barely acknowledged her presence, completely ignoring her. And when it was all done, the first words he had spoken to her weren’t even a greeting—just an order, sending her off on an errand. First day on the job.

The chopper lurched slightly, but Barbara barely noticed. She was too lost in thought, wondering if she had just made the worst mistake of her life.

The only reason she had even signed that contract wasn’t just her father’s insistence—it was the way she had tried to console herself. He’s the richest man in the world, she had told herself. Of course, the contract is just to protect himself. What would he possibly want with someone like me?

She clung to that thought, hoping it would be enough to quiet the unease creeping in.

Then she felt it—the chopper descending. Instinctively, she reached out, gripping onto something for support as it lowered. The moment it touched down, both she and Miss Hawthorne stepped out.

The pilot, the same man who had flown her to the island before, emerged from the cockpit. As Barbara moved to the side, she caught sight of him making a slight bowing gesture toward her fellow passenger.

Barbara snickered under her breath. So he can be respectful.

Miss Hawthorne walked toward her, and Barbara found herself watching her with quiet curiosity. Wow, she’s so beautiful. First Cindy, now her. Was it something they ate on that island? Or was everyone just naturally stunning here?

Moving to the side, Barbara watched as Miss Hawthorne passed by, her presence commanding as ever.

Just then, three men in suits rushed out of the massive building ahead—a structure that looked like a warehouse from the outside. Even at a glance, she could tell it was huge. Not wanting to fall behind, she picked up her pace, moving closer.

The men—Bill, Tom, and Paul—looked to be in their late fifties. Bill had a slim build and was the most professionally dressed, his suit crisp and perfectly tailored. Tom, on the other hand, had a plumper frame, his beer gut straining against his jacket as if fighting for freedom. Then there was Paul—the most physically fit of the three. With his broad shoulders and toned physique, he looked like someone who still took his workouts seriously.

Bill, who stood in the middle, smiled as he stepped forward, offering his hand while lowering his head slightly in a show of respect. His voice came out in a raised pitch, overly eager.

"Good day, Miss Hawthorne! It’s an honor having you here. The cars are ready," he said, his tone dripping with flattery.

To his side, Tom let out a hearty laugh before adding, "Miss Hawthorne, we placed his cars right opposite the room the late sir’s cars are kept, just as instructed. We’ve been giving them the best treatment—washing them every three days and performing routine maintenance to keep them in top condition," he said, chuckling even more.

Paul chimed in next. "Yes, honestly, we were shocked when we got, uh, Mr. Sebastian’s call, telling us to reserve a space. We didn’t expect Mr. Blackwell to have an interest in cars," he said, pausing briefly before adding with a knowing smile, "And might I say, what a fine taste in cars he has."

The three men laughed in unison, all eager to impress the woman standing before them—perhaps hoping to earn his favor in return maybe she would speak kindly in front of him about them.

Everlyn, her face unreadable, gave Bill’s extended hand a brief shake. She barely spared the three men a glance, unimpressed by their blatant attempt to curry favor. Her voice came out sharp and commanding.

"Let’s head to the cars. I have urgent matters to attend to."

The three men let out a chorus of awkward chuckles, with Bill quickly masking the tension. "Okay, okay, let’s go," he said. But just as he turned to lead the way, his eyes caught sight of someone unfamiliar.

Everlyn followed his gaze, turning her head slightly. Barbara, who had been standing to the side, shifted uneasily under the scrutiny of Bill and the others. Without hesitation, Everlyn spoke.

"That’s Mrs. Barbara Longbottom. She’s the main reason we’re here. She is Mr. Blackwell’s newly appointed luxury curator. She will be given full access to the cars, as she will now oversee all of this."

Barbara forced a polite smile and stepped forward. "Hello, everyone. Like she said, I’m Barbara. I very much look forward to working with you all and having a pleasant time together."

The men nodded in acknowledgment, with Bill being the first to react. His face broke into a welcoming smile.

"Well, it’s great to have you, Mrs. Longbottom. I’m Bill Miller, and this is Tom Bell. That’s Paul Miller, my younger brother. We own this place—Park Palace Garage—where we store and maintain vehicles for our clients. Welcome! Let’s go, let’s go!"

Behind him, Tom muttered under his breath, "What even is a luxury curator? These rich people and their stu—"

Before he could finish, a sharp pain shot through his stomach. He turned with a glare, only to see Paul awkwardly scratching the back of his head, a nervous chuckle escaping him.

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Tom’s eyes followed Paul’s gaze—and immediately, he understood. Miss Hawthorne’s sharp, icy glare was fixed directly on him. He cleared his throat, straightened his suit, and adjusted himself with a forced cough.

As they walked inside, passing through multiple security checks, Bill kept the conversation lively, eagerly explaining the ins and outs of the facility to Barbara. She nodded along, absorbing the information, while Everlyn remained quiet, her mind elsewhere.

She was thinking—no, analyzing. Something wasn’t right. She had sensed it back home and within the company.

Home, for her, was Blackwell Island—the only place she had ever truly called home since moving there as a child to begin her training. And the company? Blackwell Investments. Both were her entire world.

Lately, though, she had noticed a shift—one that set her on edge. Her boss, the very reason she had undergone all that rigorous training, and her father, the man who had not only brought her into this world but into this life, had been meeting more frequently than usual. Private discussions. Conversations she was not included in.

And then there was the money. A massive sum had quietly left their accounts not long ago—right when her father had been off the island. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have thought much of it, but things were different now. Their recent purchases had left them somewhat cash-strapped, making that sudden withdrawal even more alarming.

Her immediate reaction had been to report it to her boss, but all she received in return was a dismissive "Don’t worry about it."

That answer wasn’t good enough.

Frustration simmered beneath the surface as she thought, Should I contact…

Before she could complete the thought, Bill’s voice rang out, snapping her back to reality.

"We’re here!" he announced loudly.

Everlyn blinked, refocusing as they arrived at their destination.

✨ Special Shoutout & Dedication! ✨

First off, a massive THANK YOU to TW_MIRAGE for the three amazing gifts! 🎁🎁🎁 You’re out here spoiling me, and honestly, I might start expecting gifts every time I blink. 😂 Seriously though, I appreciate it so much! bro you are seriously the best i don’t know what i did in my past life to deserve a reader like you (i probably saved a baby or someshit because this is insane)

And then, we have the Golden Ticket Royalty themselves—Velsharoon (rightfully crowned the King of Golden Tickets 👑🎟️) and Jbp2k24! You two are out here handing out golden tickets like secret VIP passes to an exclusive club where only the coolest people get in. If this were a video game, you’d both have the ultimate loot drops. 🎮✨

This chapter is dedicated to you legends! May your gifts always be bountiful, your golden tickets ever-flowing, and your internet connections eternally stable. Much love and appreciation! 💛💛💛