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MidReal Story
The Billionaire Orphan
Scenario:Shane Weber has led a hard broken life, a poor orphan, and his girlfriend is leaving him for a more richer prospect. But his fortune is about to change dramatically. Shane inherited immense wealth from his grandfather, shocking everyone. He was the heir to the only multi-googolaire family in the world. He endures constant criticism and judgment from those around him. He vowed that those who labeled him a failure would eventually bow at his feet. How will he use his new-found wealth to shape those around him, as he reclaims his life?. With a new-found sense of responsibility, Shane will get revenge on those who mistreated him? Will he succeed?
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Shane Weber
He is a former orphan who was raised in foster care,discovering he is the heir to a multibillion dollar fortune. He is resilient,sarcastic,and determined. Shane faced immense poverty and hardship but never gave up. His life took a dramatic turn when his adoptive parents kicked him out due to financial struggles. His exgirlfriend left him for someone richer. Despite criticism and judgment,Shane inherits the wealth,vowing revenge and social climb.
Alex
He is one of Shane's classmates from foster care,becoming a confidant and friend. He is supportive,honest,and caring. Alex stood by Shane despite his difficult circumstances and remained loyal even after Shane’s adoption by the wealthy family. His friendship was one of the few constants in Shane’s turbulent life. Alex’s loyalty highlights the depth of their bond across social and economic divides.
Isabel
She is Shane's adoptive mother who played a significant role in his harsh upbringing as an orphan. She is coldhearted,manipulative,and controlling. Isabel adopted Shane as part of a plan to use him for financial gain. When reality sets in that he is wealthy on his own,she tries to manipulate him into obeying her instead of pursuing independence. Her past as an adulterer with Shane’s biological father adds complexity to their strained relationship.
I was an orphan, living in poverty.
My girlfriend left me for a richer guy.
I was heartbroken, but I didn't give up.
Life took another turn when I found out I was adopted.
My parents weren't my biological ones, but rather my adoptive parents.
They were part of a plan to use me for their benefit.
But they soon realized that I wasn't the son they thought I'd be.
They kicked me out, and I was left with nothing.
I had to start over, but I never lost hope.
I held onto the memories of my past, knowing that one day I would rise above it all.
And then, one day, I received a letter that changed everything.
It informed me that my biological grandfather had passed away, leaving behind a vast fortune.
I was the sole beneficiary of his estate, inheriting billions of dollars.
The news spread quickly, and people everywhere were talking about it.
They were shocked and amazed by my story.
Some even criticized me, calling me a failure who got lucky.
But I didn't let their words bring me down.
Instead, I used them as fuel to motivate myself further.
I had already made up my mind what I would do with the money once I got my hands on it.
I sat in my cramped studio apartment, staring at the letter in my hands.
My fingers were shaking, and I could feel the weight of the phone pressing against my ear.
The number for Harrison & Associates was scribbled on a piece of paper, and I slowly dialed it.
The law firm was located downtown, in one of the tallest buildings in the city.
As I waited for someone to answer, I couldn't help but think about all the possibilities that lay before me.
"Hello?" a voice said on the other end of the line.
It was a receptionist, and she sounded bored.
"Hi," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I'm calling about the inheritance letter I received. My name is Shane Weber."
There was a pause on the other end, and then the receptionist's tone changed.
"Oh, Mr. Weber. Yes, we've been expecting your call. One moment, please."
She transferred me to another extension, and soon I found myself speaking with Mr. Harrison himself.
He had a deep voice and spoke in measured tones.
"Mr. Weber" he said, "I trust you received our letter regarding your grandfather's estate."
"Yes," I replied.
"I'm still trying to process everything."
"I understand," Mr. Harrison said.
"It's a lot to take in. Let me explain things to you. Your grandfather left behind billions of dollars in assets, including property deeds, offshore accounts, and various investments. As his sole beneficiary, you are entitled to inherit everything." I felt my throat tighten as he continued to speak.
I had never imagined that I would be inheriting such a vast fortune.
It was almost too much to comprehend.
"However," Mr. Harrison said, "there are certain procedures that must be followed before we can transfer the funds into your name. We need to verify your identity and ensure that you are indeed the rightful heir."
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me.
"I understand," I said.
"What do I need to do?"
"You'll need to come to our office tomorrow morning," Mr. Harrison replied.
"We'll have all the necessary paperwork ready for you to sign. In the meantime, please gather any documents that prove your relationship with your grandfather."
I glanced around my small apartment and realized that I didn't have anything suitable for such an occasion.
The only suit I owned was wrinkled and worn from years of neglect.
"Don't worry about the suit," Mr. Harrison added, sensing my hesitation.
"It's more important that you bring whatever documents you have, even if it's just a birth certificate or an old family photo."
"Alright," I said, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "I'll be there first thing in the morning."
I dump the contents of the storage boxes onto the floor, sifting through years of forgotten paperwork.
My birth certificate surfaces first - the one thing Isabel couldn't hide from me.
Deeper in the pile, I find a creased photo of my mother holding me as a baby, her bright smile and loving gaze etched on her face.
In the background, I can make out the stern features of my grandfather, his eyes narrowed as if he disapproves of the moment.
The timestamp on the back reads "June 15th, 1995," matching the date on my birth records.
My hands tremble as I hold it up to the dim light, studying every detail.
It's real; this is proof.
As I continue to dig, more evidence surfaces.
There are hospital records detailing my birth, newspaper clippings about my mother's tragic death in a car accident when I was just two years old, and even adoption papers bearing my grandfather's signature.
Each document is like a piece of a puzzle, fitting together to form a narrative that confirms my claim to the inheritance. I organize everything into a manila folder, double-checking each document for accuracy and authenticity.
The clock ticks away as I work tirelessly, cross-referencing dates and names until the early hours of dawn.
With the first light of morning creeping through the window, I knew I was ready to reclaim my life.
I check my reflection one last time in the cracked bathroom mirror, straightening the faded tie and brushing off lint from my only suit jacket.
The documents feel heavy in the worn leather folder - my ticket to a new life.
Outside, I count the loose change in my pocket and realize I only have enough for a one-way bus fare to the law firm.
Walking past the corner store where Penelope used to work, I catch a glimpse of myself in the window reflection and notice my hands are shaking.
The bus arrives late, packed with morning commuters who edge away from my threadbare appearance.
I clutch the folder tighter against my chest, watching the gleaming downtown buildings grow closer with each stop.
The law firm's address matches the letterhead - 44th floor of the Sterling Tower.
I push through the revolving doors into Sterling Tower's gleaming marble lobby, my eyes widening at the grandeur.
The security guard gives me a once-over, his gaze lingering on my shabby suit before he returns to scanning the crowd.
I approach the front desk, where a receptionist with polished nails and an impeccable suit greets me with a polite smile.
"Good morning, how can I assist you?"
"I have an appointment with Harrison & Associates," I reply, my voice steadier than I feel.
The smile falters slightly, but she nods and makes a call, speaking in hushed tones.
As I stand there awkwardly beside a potted palm tree, professionals in crisp suits stream past, some casting sideways glances in my direction.
After what feels like an eternity, the receptionist hands me a visitor badge and directs me to the express elevator.
My reflection stares back at me from the mirrored elevator doors - my tie is slightly crooked.
As the elevator doors slide open on the 44th floor, Mr. Harrison himself is waiting for me, his expression unreadable.
"Mr. Weber," he says, extending a hand. "I trust you brought everything we discussed?"
"Yes, sir," I reply, handing over the folder with a mix of hope and apprehension.
He leads me through a maze of glass-walled offices, the soft carpet muffling my scuffed shoes.
We reach his corner office, where floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the city skyline - a sight I've only seen in movies.
He gestures for me to take a seat in the leather chair across from his mahogany desk.
As he opens the folder, his eyes scan each document with meticulous care.
My heart pounds in my chest as he compares my birth certificate to other papers, making notes on a legal pad.
The silence stretches uncomfortably thick as he scrutinizes the newspaper clippings and the photo of my mother.
I watch intently as he arranges the documents in a neat stack on his desk, then pulls out a thick manila envelope from his drawer.
He extracts several forms, spreading them across the polished mahogany surface.
The papers detail my grandfather's vast holdings - properties spanning multiple continents, investment portfolios worth billions, and numerous offshore accounts.
My hands shake slightly as Mr. Harrison guides me through each section, explaining the transfer process in a calm, measured tone.
He points to signature lines on multiple pages while outlining the legal proceedings ahead.
"Mr. Weber," Mr. Harrison says, pausing to look directly at me, "are you aware of the conditions attached to this inheritance?"
I swallow hard, my voice barely above a whisper, "No, I wasn't told about any conditions."
He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers thoughtfully, "You'll need to assume control of the family business and relocate to London within six months."
I lean forward in the leather chair as he pulls out a thick portfolio labeled "Weber Global Holdings" and slides it across the desk.
"Your grandfather built an empire around quantum computing technology," he begins, opening the portfolio to reveal a stack of glossy brochures and financial reports.
"Weber Global Holdings has research facilities in Europe and Asia, employing thousands of scientists and engineers. The company develops advanced AI systems and quantum processors for governments and tech giants."
My mind reels as I flip through the pages, filled with technical terms and financial projections that stretch into billions.
I glance up at Mr. Harrison, who continues his explanation.
"The company has secured classified contracts with several nations, providing cutting-edge technology for defense and surveillance systems. In addition to these government contracts, Weber Global Holdings supplies quantum processors to major tech companies, driving innovation in fields like artificial intelligence and cybersecurity."
He leans forward, his voice taking on a serious tone.
"Mr. Weber, as the sole heir to your grandfather's fortune, you will assume control of this vast empire. You will be responsible for making strategic decisions that impact not only the company but also global politics and technological advancements."
I feel overwhelmed by the weight of responsibility being placed upon me.
My hands tremble slightly as I close the portfolio, my mind racing with questions and doubts.
"What about my role in all of this?"
I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Mr. Harrison nods sympathetically before sliding another document across the desk.
"This is a personal letter from your grandfather," he explains gently.
"It outlines his wishes and expectations for your future within the company."
I hesitate for a moment before breaking the wax seal on the envelope.
As I unfold the letter, my eyes scan the pages filled with my grandfather's familiar handwriting.
The words blur together as tears well up in my eyes - a mix of grief, confusion, and uncertainty about what lies ahead.
I take a deep breath before reading the letter aloud, my voice trembling with emotion.
"Dear Shane" it begins, "I never thought I would have to write these words to you. But fate has brought us to this moment, where I must entrust you with not only my legacy but also my deepest hopes for your future."
The letter goes on to describe my grandfather's vision for Weber Global Holdings - his dreams of pushing the boundaries of technology and making a lasting impact on humanity.
As I read on, I realize that there are more conditions attached to my inheritance than I initially thought.
I lean back in the leather chair, processing everything as Mr. Harrison hands me a thick folder labeled "Relocation Details."
I open it, finding a stack of documents inside.
There's a deed to a penthouse apartment in Mayfair, London, along with private jet arrangements for my travel.
A preliminary schedule of meetings with the board members of Weber Global Holdings is also included.
My mind drifts to my shabby apartment, with its leaking faucet and peeling wallpaper.
When Mr. Harrison asks when I can leave, I think of Penelope working at that coffee shop, of Isabel and Robert in their modest suburban home.
"I can be ready by next week," I tell him firmly.
He immediately picks up his phone to make the necessary arrangements.
Back in my studio apartment, I pull out my old flip phone and dial Kevin's number first.
While the phone rings, I drag out my ratty duffel bag from under the bed and start sorting through my meager possessions.
Kevin answers on the third ring, his voice filled with curiosity.
"Hey man, what's up?"
I take a deep breath before launching into the story of my inheritance, of the fortune and the London move.
I tell him everything while stuffing clothes into the bag.
When I finish, Kevin is silent for a moment before exclaiming, "Whoa, that's insane! Congratulations, dude!"
I thank him and promise to keep in touch before hanging up.
Next, I call Mike, then Landon, and finally Lance.
Each time, I repeat the story as I continue packing.
They all react with disbelief and excitement, especially when I mention the London move. Between calls, I sort through my belongings, dividing them into two piles - things to keep and things to donate.
My whole life fits into two bags, but I leave behind the broken furniture and appliances that came with the apartment.
I pause, staring at the bare walls of my apartment, I was going dial Penelope's number but quickly dismissed it. Especially remembering when she looked down on me because I was poor.
Landon and Lance had agreed to come with me to London. My penthouse was more than big enough for us. And they were more than happy to quit their jobs.
I pack my last belongings into the duffel bag, the weight of my new life settling in.
Kevin, Mike, Landon, and Lance help me sort through my sparse possessions.
We discuss our plans for London, their excitement palpable.
I hand them each a plane ticket, grateful for their support.
As we load our bags into a rented van, I glance back at my old apartment, feeling a mix of relief and nostalgia.
We drive to the airport, the city skyline fading behind us.
Mr. Harrison hands me a thick envelope labeled "Weber Inheritance."
I open it, finding a stack of documents inside.
As I read through the pages, my eyes widen at the sheer amount of money - 350 googol dollars.
It's an unfathomable number, more money than I've ever imagined.
Mr. Harrison leans forward, his expression serious.
"Your grandfather was a wealthy man," he explains.
"This inheritance will change your life forever."
I nod, still in shock.
Then, Mr. Harrison slides a sleek blue card across the desk.
"This is your Citibank card," he says.
"It has no limit. You can use it for anything you need."
I pick up the card with trembling fingers.
The weight of it feels significant in my hand.
I look up at Mr. Harrison, who smiles reassuringly.
"Welcome to your new life," he says.
I nod, signing the last papers on the desk.
After finishing, I meet Kevin, Mike, Landon, and Lance in the lobby.
We walk out of Sterling Tower together and pile into the waiting black SUV that will take us to the private airfield.
As the SUV pulls away, Kevin turns to me with a curious look.
"So, Shane, what's the first thing you're gonna do with all that money?"
I chuckle nervously, glancing out the window. "Honestly, I haven't even thought that far ahead yet."