As the conversation between Elvis and Mr Paul continued, the tranquillity of the room was shattered by the sharp ring of Elvis's phone.
Elvis's expression shifted from attentive engagement to reluctant distraction. The device illuminated with the name "Leslie," casting a harsh light on the atmosphere.
"Apologies, Uncle Paul," Elvis said, his voice tinged with apology as he reached for his phone. He hesitated for a moment before accepting the call, a sense of apprehension settling over him.
"Hello?" Elvis answered cautiously, bracing himself for whatever might come.
"Elvis Klein, you loser and low-life," Leslie's voice boomed through the phone, each word dripping with venom.
Elvis's eyes widened in shock at the sudden barrage of insults. He had anticipated a conversation, but he hadn't expected the verbal assault that now echoed through the line.
"Leslie, what's going on?" Elvis asked, his voice a mix of bewilderment and hurt.
"Well, I just addressed you by your names. Or have you forgotten them so quickly? Anyway, my lawyer has the divorce papers ready and is waiting for you to sign them this afternoon."
Elvis's brows furrowed slightly at the harshness of her tone, but he remained composed. He had expected this conversation to be far from pleasant, and he was determined to approach it with the same level-headedness he had developed over time.
"Thank you for letting me know." Elvis nodded, even though she couldn't see the gesture.
Another pause ensued, and this time, when Leslie spoke again, her tone was a mixture of coldness and harshness, somewhat, revealing a hint of hatred beneath her anger. "Elvis, I never thought it would come to this. But I guess it's the right thing. I do not love you and I never will!"
Elvis could sense the conflicting emotions in her voice, and he chose to answer simply. "I'm not threatened by your words, Leslie." At this point, he knew there was no remedy for their destroyed relationship, and Leslie's mind was made up.
"I've removed your belongings from my house, so come over and pick them up. I've been patient but I've come to discover that you're worse than a loser and will never amount to anything in your entire life.
I've housed you long enough, and your time is up. I and my fiance will be moving into one of the houses at The Elites' Estate on Berkeley Street.
Since you can't afford the rent for this house, you have no business here. I hate you, fucking loser!" Leslie growled as she hung up on the phone before Elvis could react.
As the conversation with Leslie came to an end, Elvis's phone rested on the desk before him. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, the weight of the impending divorce papers mingling with the sense of responsibility he felt towards The Grand Empire.
The room's ambience was serene, the air still holding traces of the significant discussions that had taken place.
As Elvis looked up, his gaze was met by the unexpected sight of a young man standing before him. The stranger's attire was professional – a well-tailored suit that exuded a sense of competence and formality. The young man's expression was one of polite anticipation, and he held a folder in his hands.
"Mr Elvis Klein?" the young man inquired respectfully, his voice carrying a calm and composed tone.
Elvis's brows furrowed slightly, his curiosity piqued by the presence of this new individual. He glanced towards Klein, who offered an encouraging nod.
"Yes, that's me," Elvis replied, his voice equally respectful.
"I'm Liam Johnson," the young man introduced himself, offering a hand for a handshake. "I'm Mr. Paul Klein's lawyer. I've been informed that you are ready to sign the documents of ownership for The Grand Empire."
Elvis nodded, a sense of clarity dawning upon him. "Ah, yes. Uncle Paul mentioned that we would proceed with the ownership transfer."
Johnson's smile was warm and professional. "Indeed. If you're ready, we can finalize the process now."
Elvis appreciated the lawyer's efficiency and the sense of professionalism that accompanied his demeanour. He stood up from the chair, straightening his attire as he prepared to accompany Johnson.
"Of course, let's proceed," Elvis replied, his voice carrying a note of determination.
"Take your time to review the documents, Mr Klein," Johnson advised, his voice carrying a sense of patience.
Elvis nodded appreciatively, his eyes scanning the pages with a careful focus. While he was no legal expert, he was determined to understand the essence of what he was signing.
After a few minutes, Elvis set the pen to paper, his signature flowing with a sense of purpose. As the ink dried, he looked up at Mr Johnson, a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation in his eyes.
"Thank you, Johnson," Elvis said, his voice sincere. "I appreciate your guidance throughout this process."
Mr Johnson's smile was genuine, his demeanour a testament to his professionalism. "It's my pleasure, Mr Klein. I believe you'll be an excellent leader for The Grand Empire."
Elvis felt a surge of gratitude at the lawyer's words. "Now, the ball is in your court, Elvis. You now own the entire Klein investment including The Elites' Estate on Berkeley Street. You can go over there to inspect the Estate, and occupy any of the mansions there."
"What?!" Elvis looked in disbelief. Just in less than 24 hours, his fate had changed from a poor, hopeless fellow to a billionaire! He was so enthralled by the reality of his new fate.