Ghost Billionaire
Chapter 62: Frank Keller 2

Chapter 62: Frank Keller 2

"You want to cooperate with me?" Frank’s face twisted, his expression darkening. First, Matthew Lindberg had the nerve to suggest he knew about his situation and now he was offering help?

It didn’t sit right.

Frank eyed him carefully, suspicion creeping into his gaze. Did Matthew hit his head somewhere?

He’d only been back in Destin City for a week, but he’d already heard bits and pieces through mutual contacts. Strangely, none of those rumors involved Matthew or the Lindberg family.

Then again, the Lindbergs had always kept a low profile, especially after that incident years ago. When Matthew was twelve, the influential people of Destin City had been shaken to its core by the news of his kidnapping. The reports were wiped clean now, buried under silence, but Frank hadn’t forgotten.

His father and Matthew’s had been close back then. Close enough to personally help track down the people responsible. It was one of the few times Frank had seen his father that serious.

Matthew changed after that. He stopped attending the usual high-society gatherings. Avoided the spotlight. Over time, he quietly distanced himself from their entire circle.

And now he was back, sitting here like nothing had happened talking about cooperation? Frank didn’t know what Matthew was planning, but something about this didn’t feel simple.

"I heard you needed an investor," Matthew said, his tone casual as if he was talking about the weather. "A wealthy one."

Frank frowned. There it was again, that strange shift. This wasn’t the same spoiled heir from years ago. Something about Matthew was different now, and it wasn’t just age or time.

"Investors?" Frank gave a short laugh.

"Yes, Frank. I am planning to invest in your company."

Frank didn’t respond right away. He leaned back, eyes drifting to the window. His expression stayed neutral, but the memories flooding his mind shifted his mood. Why did Matthew have to bring up the real reason he was here?

His father.

His father didn’t just send him here, he exiled Frank.

One argument. That’s all it took. Next thing he knew, his cards were frozen, his name scrubbed off the executive list, and a curt message from the family lawyer reminded him his access to company resources had been "suspended indefinitely."

Obviously, he wasn’t about to hand that story over to Matthew Lindberg on a silver platter.

Instead, he said, "Let’s just say I’m being a little more selective about who I work with." It was vague, but enough to keep the conversation moving.

Since Matthew was here then perhaps, he already knew what happened to Frank and knew that Frank wouldn’t want to work with the Keller Group or anyone related to that company.

Frank turned back to Matthew with a strained smile. "And you? Since when did you start tossing money around like it’s nothing?" he asked, clearly trying to shift the conversation. After everything he’d been through, trusting people didn’t come easy anymore, and right now, he had no idea what Matthew was really after.

Matthew didn’t respond right away. He lifted the cup to his lips and took a slow sip of the coffee Frank had brewed. Then he set it down and leaned back, eyes still on Frank.

"It’s not throwing money," he said. "Not if I know it’s coming back double. Triple, even."

Frank narrowed his eyes. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Matthew tilted his head slightly. "I heard your father kicked you out of the family business after you refused to marry someone."

Frank’s jaw tensed. The irritation that had been simmering now edged closer to the surface.

"I’m not trying to pry," Matthew added. "But... you know how old people work. One dinner party, one complaint, and suddenly half the city hears about it."

Frank gritted his teeth. So that’s how it was. His father must’ve told Matthew’s father. He couldn’t believe the man had the audacity to spread that story.

He looked Matthew straight in the eye. "My personal affairs aren’t your business."

Matthew didn’t flinch. "I’m not making them mine. But I am starting something. My own business. And I need someone like you."

Frank didn’t respond. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and face unreadable. What did he mean by he needed him? Wasn’t this supposed to be a business investment? Why did it suddenly sound like there was something more behind Matthew’s offer?

Matthew waited a few seconds, then looked around the office. "Are you really planning to stay in this place forever?"

Frank didn’t respond. Frank was twenty-two. He had skipped his final year of university to build something on his own. At first, it was nothing but a small tech idea and a few contacts. But with his father’s resources backing him—equipment, office space, seed money—the company had taken off faster than anyone expected.

By the time he turned twenty-one, it wasn’t a startup anymore. It was a full-fledged operation. Profitable. Scalable. His own.

Then came the offer. Not a business proposal. Not a merger.

Marriage.

His father called it "securing the future." Said it would strengthen their partnership with the Keaton Group. The daughter was decent on paper, educated, attractive, well-connected. But Frank had already made his choice. He had someone. Someone who had stood by him before the company was even worth anything.

He told his father no.

The man didn’t take it well.

Frank still remembered that night. The shouting. The threat. "Either you marry her, or I take back everything."

Frank hadn’t expected him to follow through. But he did. His father actually, locked him out of the company accounts. Froze the internal structure. Called in legal teams to dismantle everything.

So Frank walked.

He sold his shares. Took what cash he could, kept the patents under his name and left.

The only reason he wasn’t sleeping in a car was because of this dealership. It had been in his late mother’s name. One of the few things his father couldn’t touch. Her will had made that clear.

The place wasn’t flashy, but it was his. His space. His terms.

For a moment, he just watched Matthew. If he was right, Matthew should be three years younger than him. However, Matthew was currently sitting there like someone who’d already lived twice as long. Calm, collected, not even flinching under pressure.

How could an 18 year old boy have such confidence? Frank looked away as Matthew took another sip of coffee.

"What business are we talking about?" Frank asked after a few seconds of silence.