The Inheritance Prologue

James Nockton was a twelve year old genius. He had Phd's in about every class possible. His parents were killed in a car accident when he was seven years old. Not that he mourned very long.

His father was the son of a billionaire, always trying to get as much money as possible from his father. But James's mother did care about him---a little. But she still cared mostly about, huge parties, make-up, and the way she looked.

When his parents died James promised that he would try to stop all sicknesses and car accidents once and for all, but he needed money to make his inventions and vaccines reality. He needed one billion dollars.

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It had been five years since his parents died. His grandpa, the owner of "Oscar's stores, had fallen ill with cancer, and was about to die.

Now he had the chance of a lifetime, one billion dollars soon to be his, and inventions to create. But then again about every gang in Chicago had heard about a, "Kid Billionaire." What a chance to get away with one billion dollars. Many sabotages against James begin. Now with a billion dollars, James has to either outsmart the saboteurs, or finish his research. But it takes a genius to take down a genius, doesn't it.

Now it's the brain of James, versus another twelve year old criminal genius. Boy this is going to be good.

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James was sitting outside of the room where his grandpa, Sir John Nockton, was staying.

A nurse walked briskly out of the room and said, "You may see him now, Mr. Nockton, it's a time to say your good-byes." She walked down the hall, leaving him alone with his grandpa.

James quietly walked into the room, so he wouldn't disturb him if he was sleeping. James always thought it would be nice to die in a dream. You would just think you were dreaming before you find out you were actually dead. But his grandpa was awake, sitting up on his bed, resting against the wall.

His once, strong body was now just a pile of scrap. Bones were visible under his shirt. His once fine grey hair was now all gone, eaten away by cancer.

The room wasn't filled with flowers or "Get Well Soon," balloons. His grandpa was always a loner, establishing the world famous, "Oscar's" stores around the world by himself, which James would inherit when his grandpa died. The vice president and executives were just after grandpa's money. Like vultures to a carcass.

"Pull up that chair," his grandpa ordered in a croaky voice, pointing to a dark corner.

James could just make out the outline of a wooden chair in the corner. He pulled it up next to the bed and clasped his grandpa's hands. They were ice-cold, making James remember the day that his parents were killed.

It was May 15, 1995. They were driving to pick him up from school when they crashed into a building, killing to pedestrians. It was in this very room that his parents died. He could just see their cold grey faces. And could feel their almost frozen hands. He shuddered just thinking about it.

"Well, I am about to go."

"You don't have to remind me grandpa."

There's something I didn't tell you about your parent's deaths."

"What didn't you tell me?"

"That it was no accident that they died. They were murdered."

"Murdered? By who?"

"By me! Hahaha!"

"What! Why would you kill them and how?"

"I shot your father in the arm when he was driving, which sent the car careening into a building, killing them instantly. The doctors thought they were killed by their wounds from the 'accident'. That's why I didn't get an autopsy of their bodies. Once you get my billion dollars gangs will be after you. And sooner or later kill you!"

James rocketed out of the chair and headed to the door like an angry tornado, wrecking everything in it's path.

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"Boss, James is going to get the billion dollars tomorrow," a big thug, called Braxton, told someone hidden in the shadows.

"Good, we'll plan a reception for him. Now go away! I need to think," a voice commanded. Braxton walked out of the door closing it behind him. "Well well James, we meet again. For the last time!"