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MidReal Story
The Billionaire Reborn From Poverty
Scenario:Brian Munson, Jr. has led a hard broke life, a poor orphan, and his girlfriend is leaving him for a more richer prospect. But his fortune is about to change dramatically. Brian inherited immense wealth from his grandfather, shocking everyone. He was the heir to one of the top billionare families in the world. He endures constant criticism and judgement from those around him. He vowed that those who had labelled him a failure would eventually bow at his feet. Now, 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, Brian will get revenge on those who treated him badly. Will he succeed?
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Brian Munson
He is the former illegitimate son of a wealthy family. He was raised in poverty with no family support,facing harsh judgments and exclusions. After his parents' death in a car accident,he inherited their estate and became a billionaire. Brian struggles with the loss of his college scholarship and past hardships. Determined to seek justice for past wrongs,he becomes a wealthy philanthropist while exacting revenge on those who wronged him,including his former girlfriend's new boyfriend.
Derek
ultimately contributing to Brian’s breakup with Hannah.
Elijah Thorne
He is Brian's best friend from high school,who was instrumental in his life transformation. He was the one who found Brian after his parents' death and helped him navigate the world. Elijah worked as a mechanic but later became a successful businessman. He remains one of the few people who know Brian's true history. Despite his own financial struggles,Elijah is fiercely loyal to Brian,providing support and guidance as he builds his new life.
My life was a hard-broke one from the time I was born until I went to college.
My mother was unmarried and too poor to even take care of herself, let alone me.
So, I ended up in an orphanage.
When I turned sixteen, she tried to make contact again, but I wasn't having it.
I was angry with her for abandoning me, and I didn't want anything to do with her.
I also had no idea who my father was, or if he even knew about me.
He was a complete mystery.
I'd had no contact with him whatsoever.
When I turned seventeen, my fortunes changed again.
This time, it was because my mother and father were killed in a car accident on their way to visit me in the orphanage.
I'd been told they were coming by one of the workers there, so I could prepare myself, but I still wasn't prepared for the shock of hearing they were dead just a short time later.
I drive my new Mercedes to the cemetery at dusk, following the directions Elijah gave me.
The graveyard is old and the iron gates creak when I push them open.
My shoes crunch on the gravel path as I walk through the rows of headstones.
Their shared headstone is under an old oak tree, just as Elijah described it.
It's simple, gray granite with both their names and dates on it.
I notice there are fresh flowers in front of it.
They must have been brought by friends who actually knew them.
I stand in front of it for a moment, then pull out the crumpled newspaper clipping about their accident that I've been carrying with me since I got it.
I read it one last time, then place it at the base of their headstone, along with my orphanage ID card.
I turn away, leaving behind the weight of what never was.
I retrace my steps through the cemetery, my shoes crunching on the gravel again.
The shadows between the headstones are longer now, and the air is cooler.
I pull my jacket tighter around me, glancing back once at their grave marker receding into darkness.
The ID card and newspaper clipping look small against the granite - fragments of a life I'm finally ready to leave behind.
The iron gates creak as I push through them, and I see my Mercedes gleaming under a streetlight.
Each step feels lighter, like I'm shedding the weight of my past with every breath.
Reaching my car, I notice something under the windshield wiper.
I pull it free and see that it's a cream-colored envelope.
The paper is thick and heavy between my fingers, and there's no indication of who sent it or how it got there.
I open it, and a piece of paper slips out.
It's a deed, printed on expensive paper with gold trim.
As I read it, I realize it's the deed to a sprawling estate in the wealthy district - the same district where my mother and father lived.
And then I see the name on the deed: mine.
My hands shake as I read the address, over and over again, until I can't believe my eyes anymore.
There's a note attached to the deed, written in elegant script on matching cream-colored paper.
It explains that my grandfather had been watching me from afar ever since he learned about my existence, and that he had left me his entire fortune upon his death.
"Why didn't he ever reach out to me himself?" I mutter, still staring at the deed in disbelief.
Elijah steps closer, his voice gentle yet firm. "He thought it was best to protect you from the family politics until you were ready."
"But why now?" I ask, feeling a mix of anger and confusion bubbling up inside me.
"He wanted to give you the chance to make your own way in the world," Elijah explains, his eyes filled with a deep understanding.
"He knew that his legacy would come with its own set of challenges and expectations, and he didn't want to burden you with those until you were ready."
I sit in the lawyer's office, still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened.
The room is old-fashioned, with mahogany paneling and leather chairs.
The lawyer, an elderly man named Mr. Patterson, sits behind a large wooden desk.
He has wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose, and he's wearing a three-piece suit.
There's a stack of documents on his desk, which he begins to spread out in front of him as we talk.
I can see property deeds, bank statements, and investment portfolios.
My eyes are fixed on the black Citibank card sitting on top of the pile.
"How much is it all worth?"
I ask him. He adjusts his glasses and clears his throat before beginning to list off my new assets.
"There are three estates," he says.
"One here in New York City, one in Los Angeles, and one in Miami. There's also a 120-foot yacht moored in Miami, which is currently being chartered out to help pay for its upkeep. And then there are the investments - stocks, bonds, mutual funds. The total value of those is approximately $3.5 billion."
He pauses for a moment before continuing.
"And then there are the bank accounts," he says.
"There are several of those, both here in the US and offshore. The total value of those accounts is approximately $700 million."
I feel like my head is spinning as I listen to him rattle off these enormous figures.
I grip the armrests of my chair tightly as he continues talking.
"So the total value of your inheritance," he says finally, "is $4.2 billion." I don't say anything for a long moment after he finishes speaking.
I just sit there staring at him, trying to process everything that I've just been told.
Finally, I reach out and pick up the black Citibank card that's been sitting on top of the pile of documents.
"Is this really happening?" I whisper, my voice barely audible as I hold the card.
Mr. Patterson nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Indeed it is, and it's all legally yours now."
Elijah leans in, his expression serious. "The question is, what will you do with it?"
I pull up the estate locations on my phone's GPS while I'm still sitting in my parked Mercedes.
The closest property is only two hours away in Newport, a sprawling coastal mansion that my grandfather used as his summer home.
The other two are in Aspen and Palm Beach.
I look up at Elijah, who's standing next to the car.
"I want to see them all," I tell him.
"I'll start with the one in Newport tomorrow."
"Would you like me to come along?" he asks.
I shake my head.
"Yeah, that would be a good idea."
He nods, understanding in his eyes.
"Of course. I'll wait here for you."
I book a room at the Newport Harbor Hotel for the night and start driving north along the darkening interstate.
The city lights recede behind me in my rearview mirror, replaced by the steady hum of the engine and the soft glow of the dashboard instruments.
I pull up to the circular driveway of the Newport mansion just as the sun is setting over the ocean.
The house itself is a massive limestone structure with tall columns and intricately carved stonework.
Elijah lets out a low whistle as we climb out of the Mercedes and walk up the marble steps to the front door.
The estate manager, Mrs. Chen, greets us with a set of antique brass keys.
She unlocks the massive oak doors and leads us into a three-story foyer with a crystal chandelier and twin curved staircases that sweep up to either side.
The walls are lined with family portraits, their faces unfamiliar but sharing my features.
Mrs. Chen explains that this was my family's summer home for generations, and that they would often host lavish parties here during the warmer months.
As she talks, I wander over to examine one of the portraits more closely.
It's an oil painting of a woman in a long white dress, her hair styled in an elaborate updo.
She looks regal and confident, but there's also something sad in her eyes. "Who is this?" I ask Mrs. Chen, pointing at the painting.
"That's your great-grandmother," she replies.
"She was a beautiful woman, inside and out."
I feel a pang of sadness as I look at the portrait again.
I never knew my great-grandmother, but I can see myself in her face.
We have the same eyes, the same nose, even the same mischievous smile playing on our lips.
It's strange to think that this woman who lived so long ago is connected to me through blood and history.
Elijah moves closer to me, sensing my unease.
"Are you okay?"
I nod, taking a deep breath.
"I'm ready to discover what else this place holds."
Mrs. Chen leads us through a hidden door behind the library's oak paneling, revealing a narrow spiral staircase that descends into darkness.
The brass handrail feels cold under my palm as we make our way down, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
At the bottom, Mrs. Chen flips an antique light switch, illuminating a vast wine cellar filled with dusty bottles and wooden crates.
But it's not the wine that catches my attention - it's the room next to it, a private study that looks like it hasn't been touched in decades.
There are filing cabinets lining one wall, their drawers overflowing with papers and documents.
In the center of the room, there's a vintage wooden desk covered in old photographs and stacks of yellowed letters.
I walk over to examine them more closely, recognizing some of the faces from the portraits upstairs.
There's one photo in particular that catches my eye - a black and white image of my parents on their wedding day, beaming at each other in matching white suits.
I pick it up gently, feeling a lump form in my throat as I stare at their happy faces. "This was your grandfather's secret workspace," Mrs. Chen explains, her voice low and reverent.
"He kept tabs on you through private investigators' reports."
I look up at her in surprise, but she just nods sadly.
"Why would he do that?" I ask, my voice tinged with disbelief.
Mrs. Chen hesitates, then says, "He wanted to protect you from afar, ensuring you were safe without intruding on your life."
Elijah interjects softly, "Maybe he knew you'd need to find your own path before stepping into this world."
While they talk, I wander around the room, taking in the details.
My eyes land on an odd seam in the wood paneling behind my grandfather's desk.
It looks like a hidden compartment, but I can't find any obvious mechanism to open it.
I press my fingers along the edge, feeling for a hidden button or switch.
Suddenly, there's a soft click, and a section of the panel slides open, revealing a wall safe.
I hadn't noticed it before because it blended seamlessly into the surrounding woodwork.
Mrs. Chen notices my discovery and walks over to examine it more closely.
"I didn't know this was here," she admits.
"It must have been installed recently."
I look at her curiously.
"Recently? But this place has been locked up for years."
She shrugs.
"Maybe your grandfather had it done before he passed away."
I nod thoughtfully, wondering why my grandfather would install a safe in his secret study.
What could he possibly have wanted to keep hidden?
Elijah moves closer to examine the safe more closely.
"Looks like it needs a key," he says, pointing at the small keyhole on the front.
Mrs. Chen nods and walks over to the desk drawer.
She rummages through it and pulls out an old key ring with several keys attached.
"Let's see if any of these fit," she says, handing me the key ring. I take the keys and begin trying them one by one in the lock.
The first few don't fit, but when I insert the fourth key, I hear a satisfying click as the safe opens.
I pull on the handle and swing open the door, revealing a stack of gold and silver coins inside.
They're neatly arranged in protective cases, each one bearing an intricate design on its surface.
Elijah leans closer to examine them more closely.
"These are rare collectibles," he says softly.
"I used to work at a coin shop in college. These are some of the most valuable ones out there."
I look at him in surprise.
"You worked at a coin shop?"
He nods sheepishly.
"Yeah, I was really into coins back then. I even had my own collection."
I smile at him fondly, remembering how much he loved collecting things when we were kids together. "Well, it looks like your grandfather had his own collection too," Mrs. Chen says softly, running her fingers over the coins gently.
"But there's something else in here too."