CHAPTER 3 - WHEN THE WORLD STOPPED LISTENING

WHEN THE WORLD STOPPED LISTENING

I stormed straight to the city, heels clacking against the empty streets, breathing hard, adrenaline still coursing through me. The night was cold, dark, and perfect for someone like me. Someone who had just been kicked out of a mansion worth more than most countries. Someone whose grandfather, the zillionaire founder of Agro One Apex, thought throwing her into the real world would teach her manners.

Well, I was about to teach the world a lesson instead.

I passed the bright neon lights of a five-star hotel and pushed open the revolving doors, striding in like I owned the place. The lobby smelled of expensive perfume and polished wood, a scent that used to feel comforting. Now, it was just a reminder that my money had been taken from me, and so had my pride.

I walked up to the front desk, throwing my hair over my shoulder, confidence plastered on my face.

“I need a room for the night,” I said, my voice sharp enough to slice glass. “The best you have.”

The receptionist, a young woman with a perfect smile, typed something into her computer. Her smile didn’t waver, but I caught the flicker of amusement in her eyes.

“Certainly, ma’am. Your card, please.”

I pulled out my platinum card, the one that used to open doors everywhere. It felt heavy in my hand. I handed it over with a flourish, as if presenting a crown to a servant.

The receptionist slid the card through the machine. The screen blinked. Nothing.

“Ma’am?” she said politely. “It appears the transaction cannot be completed.”

My eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“It says… insufficient funds, ma’am,” she said, barely hiding the tiniest smirk.

My mouth fell open. “Insufficient funds? How can that—check the card again. It’s probably a mistake.”

She tried again. The same message flashed. INSUFFICIENT FUNDS.

I snatched the card from her hand. “What does this mean?” I demanded, my voice rising. “Explain this to me!”

Her assistant, a young man standing slightly behind, coughed and tried to hide his smile. I didn’t like that. Not one bit.

“It means, ma’am, that your account does not have enough money to cover this transaction,” the receptionist explained, trying to stay polite. “The total for your room is $200,000.”

I froze. Two hundred thousand dollars for a room? I didn’t care. I could pay it with my pinky finger if I wanted to.

“Check my balance,” I snapped, glaring at the receptionist like I could burn her with my stare.

The assistant typed quickly. “Your available balance, ma’am, is… $1,000.”

One thousand dollars. That was it. That was all I had in the world.

I blinked, feeling my face go hot. “What? What kind of joke is this?” I hissed. “One thousand dollars in my account? I pay for entire buildings with that in a day!”

The receptionist’s smirk widened slightly, and the assistant tried to cover his laughter by clearing his throat.

“Are you laughing at me?” I demanded, my hands trembling slightly with rage.

“No, ma’am,” they both said at the same time, but I didn’t believe a word of it.

“I am Vindel Holt!” I said, slamming my hand down on the counter. “My grandfather is the founder of Agro One Apex, the largest agricultural empire in the world! Do you understand? You think I can’t pay? You think I—”

“You can’t,” the receptionist interrupted, her tone polite but firm. “Ma’am, with all due respect, the card says otherwise.”

I looked at her, feeling heat rush to my face. “I don’t care about the card! Go collect whatever bills I will make here! Do it now! Everything I touch becomes gold!”

She and her assistant exchanged a glance. Then, they both burst out laughing. Not a full, obnoxious laugh. A quiet, suppressed laugh, but I heard it.

“Ma’am, please,” the receptionist said between chuckles. “Leave before we call security.”

I felt my stomach twist with fury. How dare they? How dare they laugh at me? Laugh at Vindel Holt, granddaughter of the man who controlled the world’s largest agricultural empire?

I slammed my hand on the counter again. “You will regret this! You don’t know who you’re dealing with! You think this is funny? My grandfather—my grandfather—”

But the words died in my mouth. There was no help. No money. No room. Nothing but my fury and the cold reality of being powerless.

I stormed out of the lobby, tossing my hair over my shoulder. I refused to cry in public. I refused to look weak. I refused to beg.

I walked down the street, my heels tapping like gunshots against the empty pavement. The city was alive around me, but I felt like I was invisible. My card was frozen. My inheritance was frozen. My pride was shattered.

I had no choice but to ask people around where I could find a cheap place to stay. I hated it. I hated asking. I hated having to lower myself. But my anger kept me moving.

A man sitting outside a convenience store looked at me, raising his eyebrows when I asked for a cheap motel. He gave directions with a shrug, probably thinking I was some naive girl lost in the city.

I followed the directions, heart pounding, hands clenching into fists. I refused to cry. Refused to beg. Refused to look pathetic.

Finally, I arrived at a small, cracked motel tucked away between two abandoned buildings. The neon sign flickered. The paint peeled from the walls. The smell hit me the second I walked through the door—stale smoke, damp carpet, and something that smelled like a thousand unwashed socks.

I glared around the reception area. It was tiny, almost laughable. I swallowed my pride and approached the counter.

“I need a room for the night,” I said, keeping my voice sharp and commanding.

The clerk, a middle-aged man with a stained shirt, looked at me skeptically. “That’s a hundred dollars a night.”

I reached for my card. My platinum card. My golden ticket. The card that had once opened doors to the finest hotels in the world.

I swiped it. Declined.

I froze. Declined? Again?

I glared at him. “Do you know who I am?” I demanded. “I am Vindel Holt. My grandfather built Agro One Apex from the ground up! Do you know what I can pay for in a day?!”

He looked at me, unimpressed. “Ma’am, you need cash.”

I dug into my bag and pulled out what I had left. One thousand dollars. Enough for five nights in a luxury hotel, maybe more. But not here. Not in the real world. Not anymore.

I handed him a crisp bill, feeling every penny slice into my pride.

He counted it, nodded, and handed me a key.

“Room three,” he said. “Up the stairs. Hallway on the left. Don’t damage the room.”

I snatched the key, my nails digging into the metal. “I don’t damage rooms,” I muttered under my breath, though the words sounded empty. I had already broken everything in my mansion. Everything I had ever held dear.

I climbed the narrow staircase, each step groaning under my weight. The hall smelled worse the higher I went. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to care.

Room three opened to a tiny space with cracked tiles, a stained bedspread, and a bathroom that smelled like mildew.

I dropped my bag onto the bed, glaring at the walls like they had personally offended me.

So this was reality.

No servants. No luxury. No respect. No power.

Just me. And one thousand dollars.

I paced the room like a caged lion.

How had it come to this? How had the most powerful girl in the world been reduced to begging for directions to a cheap motel?

I flopped onto the bed, my back against the wall, hands over my face. My heart was still pounding. My cheeks burned with humiliation.

And yet, I refused to cry.

I refused to beg.

I refused to lose.

Tomorrow, I would get a job. I would show the world that Vindel Holt could survive without money, without servants, without her grandfather breathing down her neck.

But tonight… tonight I was just a girl in a cracked, stinking motel room, alone with nothing but my fury.

I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, repeating the words in my head.

Respect. Courtesy. Manners.

What a joke.

I would learn them all.

But I would do it on my terms.

I would show my grandfather. Show the staff. Show the city. Show everyone that Vindel Holt was more than a spoiled heiress.

And when I did, I would take back everything he had tried to take from me.

Tomorrow, the world would see me.

Vindel Holt.

A minute felt like an hour there, the bed cracked as I turned. I couldn't sleep.

I went from sleeping on a luxurious orthopedic bed to this squeaky bed… my back ached as I thought of that dumb, wicked, manipulative old man…..