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MidReal Story
The Billionaire's Reckless Mistress
Scenario:this story is in new york city in the year of 2025 and a story about power and defrauding and scamming and greed and lies and sec and fbi and ambition and stocks and fraud and adultery and persuasion and profanity and nudity and sex and strippers and prostitutes and drug and alcohol use and addiction and money and company and love and drama and prison and wall street and my name is mohamed abdi and i am 24 years old and i have dark skin and i am a stockbroker and i used to work for my boss josh hendricks he is 42 years old but his company went bankrupt with the tactics i learned from him and i was still poor so i establish my own company named elevate equity with a group of my male best friends who were poor but i convinced them to work for me and we defraud peoples money and pensions out of their wallets and bank accounts into our bank accounts and my nickname became The Wolf of Wall Street and we partake in a lavish lifestyle, including drug use, orgies, and orgasms, while also defrauding investors through fraudulent schemes and we manipulate penny stocks to generate massive profits and i became eventually a billionaire
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Mohamed Abdi
He is the founder of Elevate Equity, a company involved in fraudulent activities on Wall Street. He is ambitious, cunning, and opportunistic. Mohamed was inspired by his former boss, Josh Hendricks, and learned tactics to defraud clients. He convinced his friends to join him and together they executed scams, manipulating stocks and stealing millions. Mohamed's nickname is "The Wolf of Wall Street." He enjoys a lavish lifestyle, indulging in drugs and orgies with prostitutes, seeking nookie and getting high while making money and getting respect from women.
Ahmed
He is another close friend of Mohamed Abdi and coworker at Elevate Equity. He is impulsive, bold, and reckless. Ahmed was eager to immerse himself in the luxurious lifestyle offered by Mohamed and often participated in wild nights out with friends. His impulsive nature led him to engage in risky investments suggested by Mohamed. Ahmed enjoyed the thrill of the moment but often struggled with financial decisions made during those nights.
Josh Hendricks
He is a former boss of Mohamed Abdi and helped shape his ambitious and cunning nature. He is successful, manipulative, and influential. Josh was Mohamed's mentor during his internship on Wall Street. He taught Mohamed the art of defrauding clients and showed him the fastpaced lifestyle of a stockbroker. Despite being 42, Josh maintained a youthful energy and saw potential in Mohamed, who was young and eager to learn. Josh's company went bankrupt due to Mohamed's schemes, but he remained unscathed.
Mohamed Abdi, also known as The Wolf of Wall Street, was born and raised in New York City.
I am 24 years old, dark-skinned, and a stockbroker.
I worked for my boss Josh Hendricks when I was 19 years old for two years.
He was 42 years old and taught me the tactics of defrauding clients and getting rich quickly.
When I left him, I was still poor, so I decided to establish my own company with the help of my male best friends.
I convinced them to work for me and they agreed.
I then established Elevate Equity with them.
We were poor but I convinced them that we would get rich quickly by scamming people and defrauding their money.
They agreed and we started our company.
I walk through the office and see my ten men working.
They are all using the tactics that I taught them to convince people to invest their money in our company.
The room is noisy as they make calls.
Some of them are laughing, while others are talking seriously.
Tom is laughing with a client, promising him high returns on his investment.
Rashid is tracking our earnings, making sure that we are meeting our targets.
By the end of the day, each of my men has earned $30,000 and I have earned $40,000 from a single call.
I leave the office, satisfied with the day's work.
As I step outside, I see the city skyline reflected in the glass windows of the building.
One month later, I walk into the office and see my team buzzing with excitement.
Each of them has earned $500,000, and I have taken a larger share.
Four months later, I walk into the office and my men cheer for me.
We have made 28.5 million dollars through our penny stock schemes, and we have siphoned 90% of it into our accounts.
I drive to my new house, an armored mansion in the middle of the city.
I park my car in the garage, which is filled with luxury cars.
I step out and see Lisa Venetti, my Italian-American wife.
She has black hair and brown eyes that are cold and distant.
Her accent is thick and heavy.
"Hello, Mohamed," she says.
I sit in my office, surrounded by the trappings of success.
The room is expansive, with a large desk and comfortable chairs.
The walls are adorned with expensive artwork, and the floor is made of polished wood.
I sit at my desk, sipping whiskey and snorting cocaine.
The sounds of laughter and music drift from the conference room, where Tom, Rashid, Ahmed, and Kashif are partying with prostitutes.
I join them, passing a joint to Ahmed as we talk about our latest scam.
A woman approaches me, her eyes inviting.
I lead her to my desk and we have sex while the others watch.
Afterwards, I see Rashid checking his phone discreetly.
He is probably tracking our stock manipulations.
I sit at my mahogany desk, reviewing client portfolios and checking stock prices.
Candy, a regular escort, enters my office wearing a tight red dress.
She locks the door and kneels between my legs.
I pretend to make important calls while she works on me.
Through the glass walls of my office, I see Logan close another huge deal.
He fist-pumps the air, his enthusiasm infectious.
Last week, he convinced a pension fund manager to invest $2 million in our latest scheme.
Candy finishes just as Logan brings two women from the lobby into his office.
He catches my eye and grins, loosening his tie as they close his blinds.
I lean back in my chair, feeling untouchable, as the weight of our empire grows heavier with each passing day.
I sit in my office, watching Logan and Ahmed bring more women into their offices.
The atmosphere is charged with excitement and anticipation.
I join them, leading another w##n into my office.
We have s#x, and I see Tom hesitating before joining us.
Rashid watches from a distance, his expression unreadable.
Kashif leaves with a man, making no effort to hide his preference.
As I leave the office, I think about Lisa.
Our marriage is falling apart, and she refuses to sleep with me anymore.
The next day, Logan drives me to his beachfront mansion in a convertible.
The house is huge, with a pool and a private beach.
It's filled with drugs, alcohol, and scantily-clad women.
My friends and workers are there, mingling with the guests.
I see Monica Hoang, an attractive Asian woman with black eyes and black hair.
She has a belly button piercing and is wearing a tight dress that shows off her curves.
Logan tells me to go for her, but I'm not interested.
Monica is 26 years old, and she's with her boyfriend Marcus Samuels, who is 29 years old.
Marcus has blue eyes and brown hair.
I meet Monica downstairs with Logan, Rashid, and Ahmed.
We introduce ourselves, and I ask her about her relationship with Marcus.
"So, how long have you been dating Marcus?"
I ask Monica as I approach her.
"Since college," she replies with a smile.
"I'm Mohamed, and this is Logan, Rashid, and Ahmed."
"Nice to meet you all," she says.
"So, what do you guys do?"
"We run a company called Elevate Equity. We've made 40 million dollars in just four months," I say proudly.
Monica's eyes widen in surprise.
"That's amazing! I'm a model, and I've worked with some big brands. I'm Vietnamese-American."
"I'm Somali-American," I say.
Marcus approaches us, looking jealous that Monica is talking to other men.
"Let's go upstairs," he says to her, pulling her away from us.
"But I don't want to leave the party," Monica protests.
"Just come with me," Marcus insists, dragging her away.
"Marcus, let her stay if she wants," I interject, trying to keep the mood light.
He glares at me, his grip on Monica's arm tightening.
"Stay out of this, Mohamed," Marcus snaps, his voice low and threatening.
Sitting at my mahogany desk in Elevate Equity's Manhattan office, I fidget with Logan's business card that has Monica's number written on it.
I glance at my Rolex and see that it's 10 AM.
I loosen my Armani tie and take a deep breath before dialing the number.
Monica answers after three rings, her voice cautious but intrigued.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Monica. It's Mohamed Abdi from the party last night," I say, trying to sound charming.
"Oh, hi Mohamed. How are you?"
"I'm good. I just wanted to apologize for what happened with Marcus last night," I say, taking a deep breath.
"It's okay. He can get a little jealous sometimes," she replies, her voice softening.
"I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime? Maybe at Le Bernardin?" "I don't know... I'm pretty busy with work," she says hesitantly.
"I understand. But I promise it'll be worth your time. I've got some connections there, and we can get the best table in the house," I say, dropping hints about my wealth and connections.
"Okay, fine. But just dinner," she says finally.
"Great! I'll pick you up at 7 PM tomorrow," I say, ending the call with a smile.
I arrive at Le Bernardin thirty minutes early, pacing back and forth outside the restaurant.
I check my reflection in the darkened windows, adjusting my tie for what feels like the tenth time.
My custom Brioni suit feels tight across my shoulders, and I hope Monica notices the quality of the fabric.
At 6:55 PM, I walk inside and am greeted by the maître d'.
He leads me through the dimly lit dining room, past tables of couples and groups of businessmen.
The air is thick with the scent of seafood and fine wine.
As we approach our reserved corner table, my heart skips a beat when I see Monica already seated there.
She's wearing a black dress that catches the light just right, accentuating her curves.
Her long dark hair falls past her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face.
She hasn't noticed me yet, too engrossed in studying the wine list.
I clear my throat softly, and her eyes lift to meet mine, a smile spreading across her lips.
"You look stunning," I say, taking a seat across from her.
"Thank you," she replies, her voice warm. "I have to admit, I was curious about what you wanted to discuss."
The waiter glides over with a silver tray, two crystal flutes of bubbling Krug champagne catching the candlelight.
"Compliments of Chef Eric Ripert," he says with practiced smoothness.
Monica's shoulders relax slightly as she takes her glass.
I notice the subtle shift in her demeanor, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
The gesture has clearly impressed her, and I can tell she's wondering about my connection to the restaurant.
"I know Eric from some investment deals we've done," I say casually, not wanting to make too much of it.
But inside, I'm pleased that I could pull off such a thoughtful gesture.
We clink our glasses together, and I watch as Monica takes a delicate sip, her red lipstick leaving a perfect mark on the rim of the flute.
The champagne is crisp and refreshing, its bubbles tickling my nose.
I catch our waiter's eye as he approaches with menus, subtly gesturing him closer.
Monica is still engrossed in studying the wine list, oblivious to the exchange.
I reach into the pocket of my suit jacket and palm a thick envelope, its contents carefully prepared earlier that day.
Two thousand dollars in crisp hundreds, ready to be put to good use.
The waiter leans in, his voice low and professional as he begins to describe the evening's specials.
I wait for the perfect moment, then smoothly press the envelope into his hand beneath the table.
He doesn't flinch, doesn't even glance down to acknowledge the transaction.
Instead, he continues his recitation of the menu, his tone steady and unchanging.
But I catch a slight nod of his head, almost imperceptible, as he tucks the envelope into his apron pocket.
Within minutes, a sommelier appears at our table, holding a bottle of rare vintage Bordeaux.
"Mr. Abdi," he says with a respectful bow, "we've discovered a hidden gem in our cellar. A 1982 Château Lafite Rothschild. Would you like to indulge?"
Monica raises an eyebrow at me, clearly impressed by the rare find.
I nod graciously, watching as the sommelier expertly opens the bottle and pours us each a glass.
Monica swirls the wine in her glass, her eyes meeting mine with a newfound curiosity.
"Alright, Mohamed, you've got my attention. What's really going on here?"
I lean in slightly, lowering my voice. "I need your help with something big—something that could change everything for both of us."