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MidReal Story
The Billionaire Reborn
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 drastic 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.
Penelope
She is Shane's exgirlfriend who left him for another man due to financial reasons. She is selfish, materialistic, and shallow. Penelope valued Shane only for his potential wealth, discarding him as soon as she found someone richer. Her relationship with Shane was emotionally distant, and she never truly cared for his struggles or past. Her decision to leave highlights her superficial nature and contributes to Shane's emotional turmoil.
Unnamed Adoptive Parents
They are Shane's adoptive parents who kicked him out when he was seventeen. They are cruel, heartless, and selfcentered. The parents viewed Shane as a means to an end, using his presence only for social prestige. Their callousness is evident in their decision to abandon Shane during his most vulnerable time, revealing their true nature as they seek external validation through his inheritance.
I was an orphan, a poor one.
I was raised in foster care, moving from family to family until I was sixteen.
At that point, I was placed with a family that seemed nice.
They were rich and had two kids my age.
We were all treated the same, or so it seemed.
It took little over a year for me to realize that I was nothing more than a servant to them.
They had adopted me for the tax credit and so their kids had someone to look down upon.
I endured it until I was seventeen, at which point I was kicked out.
I had no money, no family, and no place to go.
I had to live on the streets for a time until I got a job and could rent a small place.
I never gave up, even when things seemed impossible.
I always pushed forward until I could stand on my own two feet.
That perseverance would serve me well later in life.
It was only a month ago that my life changed forever, all because of a woman who came into my life and then left just as quickly as she had appeared.
Her name was Penelope, and she was beautiful beyond words.
We met at work, and she immediately caught my eye.
I asked her out on a date, and to my surprise, she said yes.
We went out together several times over the next few weeks.
After another exhausting shift at work, I trudged up to my apartment.
I had been working non-stop for the past few days, and I was ready for a break.
As I approached my mailbox, I noticed that it was overflowing with bills and junk mail.
I sighed and began sorting through the stack, separating the important letters from the ones that could wait.
Among the usual bills and advertisements, one letter caught my eye.
It was a crisp white envelope with official letterhead: "Davidson & Associates, Legal Services."
Curiosity piqued, I opened the envelope and pulled out the contents.
The letter was typed on expensive-looking paper, and it was addressed to me.
As I read through it, my heart skipped a beat.
It was from a law firm, informing me that my biological grandfather, William Weber, had passed away.
He had left behind a significant estate, and I was named as his sole heir. My hands trembled as I read the letter again, trying to process the news.
I had never met my grandfather; in fact, I had never even known his name until now.
My biological parents had died when I was just a baby, and I had been raised in foster care ever since.
The thought of having a family member who cared about me enough to leave me his entire estate was almost too much to believe.
The letter requested that I come to their downtown office tomorrow morning to discuss the details of the inheritance.
I carefully folded the letter and placed it back in its envelope.
My mind raced as I tried to make sense of everything that was happening.
I had so many questions: Who was this man who claimed to be my grandfather?
Why did he leave me his estate?
And what exactly did this mean for my future?
I spent the rest of the evening researching William Weber online, trying to learn more about him.
From what I could find, he had been a successful businessman who owned several companies across the country.
He had made his fortune through smart investments and shrewd business deals. As I delved deeper into my research, I discovered that William Weber had been married twice and had two children from his first marriage.
His son had passed away several years ago, leaving behind a daughter named Penelope.
The next day, I arrived at Davidson & Associates, a tall glass building in the heart of the city.
As I stepped inside, I was greeted by a stern-looking receptionist who asked if I had an appointment.
I showed her the letter and explained that I was there to discuss my inheritance.
She nodded curtly and led me to a conference room where a man in a suit was waiting for me.
"Hello, Mr. Weber," he said, extending his hand.
"My name is Mr. Thompson, and I'm one of the lawyers handling your grandfather's estate."
I shook his hand and took a seat across from him at the table.
He pulled out a stack of documents and began explaining everything in great detail.
As he spoke, I listened intently, trying to absorb as much information as possible. According to Mr. Thompson, my grandfather's estate consisted of several properties around the world, including a mansion in Los Angeles, a penthouse apartment in New York City, and a villa in France.
In addition to these physical assets, there was also a significant amount of money invested in various stocks and bonds.
Mr. Thompson explained that my grandfather had been very wealthy and had made sure to leave behind enough for his family members to live comfortably for generations to come.
As I sat there listening to all of this, my mind kept wandering back to Penelope.
I couldn't believe that she had never told me about her father or our shared family history.
It felt like such a betrayal, especially since we had grown so close over the past few weeks.
But now, thanks to this inheritance, I had the opportunity to make things right again. When Mr. Thompson finished speaking, he handed me a folder filled with all of the necessary paperwork and documents related to my grandfather's estate.
He explained that everything was now mine and that I could do whatever I wanted with it.
I thanked him profusely and left the office building feeling elated but also confused about what exactly I should do next.
As I walked back home, I couldn't help but think about Penelope again.
I wondered why she had kept all of this from me and whether she knew anything about her father's passing or my inheritance.
I decided that I needed to talk to her as soon as possible and figure out what was going on between us.
When I got back to my apartment building, there was another envelope waiting for me in my mailbox.
I stormed into the coffee shop where Penelope worked, gripping the papers tightly in my hand.
As soon as she saw me, she froze behind the counter, her eyes wide with fear.
I slammed the documents down onto the counter and glared at her.
"So, you knew all along?" she stammered, her face pale.
"Yes, I knew," I spat.
"And you didn't think it was important to tell me? You didn't think I had a right to know that we were related?"
Penelope looked down at the floor, unable to meet my gaze.
"I was afraid," she whispered.
"Afraid of what?"
I demanded.
"Afraid that you wouldn't believe me," she said, her voice trembling.
"Afraid that you would think I was just trying to get close to your money."
I scoffed.
"You were trying to get close to my money," I snapped.
"You were using me all along."
Penelope shook her head vigorously.
"No, no, that's not true," she protested.
"I really did care about you. I just...I didn't know how else to get what I wanted."
"And what exactly did you want?"
I asked coldly.
"I wanted the inheritance," she admitted, tears streaming down her face.
"I knew that my father had left everything to you, and I wanted a piece of it for myself."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "So, you used me," I repeated angrily.
"You pretended to like me so that you could get closer to my grandfather's fortune."
Penelope nodded miserably.
"Yes," she said softly.
"But it wasn't just about the money. I really did care about you."
I laughed bitterly.
"Sure you did," I said sarcastically.
"That's why you lied to me and used me for your own gain."
Penelope looked up at me pleadingly.
"I'm sorry," she said desperately.
"I never meant to hurt you. Please forgive me."
I stared at her coldly for a moment before turning on my heel and walking away without saying another word.
As I left the coffee shop, I could hear Penelope calling after me, but I didn't look back.
I couldn't bear to see her face again after what she had done to me. As I walked away from the coffee shop, my mind raced with thoughts of anger and betrayal.
Back in my apartment, I paced the living room while staring at Mr. Thompson's business card.
The weight of the inheritance papers felt heavy in my hands as I sank into my worn couch.
My fingers hovered over my phone's keypad, hesitating for a moment before dialing the number.
The call connected, and Mr. Thompson's secretary put me through immediately.
"Hello, Mr. Weber," his voice was warm but professional.
"Is everything alright?"
I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself.
"Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to ask if we could meet again tomorrow morning."
"Of course," he replied without hesitation.
"What time would you prefer?"
"How about 9 AM?"
"That works for me. I'll see you then."
As I hung up the phone, my hand trembled slightly.
There was still so much I needed to understand about my grandfather's estate and the secrets that surrounded it.
The next morning, I arrived at Mr. Thompson's office, feeling a mix of anticipation and trepidation.
As soon as I entered his office, he greeted me with a warm smile and gestured for me to take a seat.
"So, what can I do for you today?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.
I took a deep breath before speaking.
"I wanted to talk to you about Penelope," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
Mr. Thompson's expression turned serious as he nodded for me to continue. "She knew all along," I said, my words spilling out in a rush.
"She knew that we were related and that she was supposed to inherit everything. She used me to get close to the money."
Mr. Thompson listened attentively, his eyes never leaving mine.
When I finished speaking, he leaned forward and placed his hands on his desk.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he said softly.
"But there's something else you should know."
I looked at him curiously, sensing that there was more to the story than what I had uncovered so far.
"What is it?" he asked gently.
"There's more about your family history that you need to know."
My heart skipped a beat as I realized that there were still secrets waiting to be unraveled.
"Tell me," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mr. Thompson nodded and began explaining everything in great detail.
As he spoke, my mind raced with questions and doubts.
I leaned forward in my chair, cutting him off mid-sentence.
"Show me everything," I said, my voice sharp.
"The will, documents, photos - anything that explains who I really am."
Mr. Thompson hesitated for a moment, adjusting his tie nervously.
Then, he stood up and walked to a large safe behind his desk.
He turned the combination lock deliberately, and with a satisfying click, the safe door swung open.
Inside, I saw stacks of yellowed papers and old leather folders.
Mr. Thompson pulled out a thick manila envelope and handled it like it was made of glass.
"These were sealed under your grandfather's explicit instructions," he said, placing the envelope on the desk between us.
"Open it," I demanded, my voice unwavering.
