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MidReal Story
The Billionaire's Revenge
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.
Grandfather
He is Shane’s wealthy grandfather who left him his entire estate. He is wise, secretive, and protective. Grandfather showed kindness to Shane by taking him in as a child and providing for his needs anonymously through gifts. Only revealing the extent of his generosity after his death, Grandfather’s actions ultimately changed Shane's fate from poverty to wealth, giving Shane the means to seek revenge on those who wronged him.
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 marked by her constant criticism and desire for luxury, ultimately leading to their breakup and failure of their future plans.
I was an orphan, a poor boy with no one to care for me.
I was raised in foster care, moving from home to home until I was sixteen.
At that point, I was placed with a family that appeared to be loving and kind.
They were also very wealthy.
However, they were only using me for their tax benefits.
When I turned seventeen, they kicked me out, telling me it was over twenty years since their son had died, and they could no longer get a tax break for having a child.
They didn’t even give me a chance to pack my bags.
I had nothing but the clothes on my body.
It didn’t take long for me to find a job and get back on my feet.
I worked at a local gas station from five in the morning until twelve at night, six days a week.
On my day off, I worked at the local grocery store from ten in the morning until six in the evening.
I was restocking the shelves at the gas station when my phone buzzed.
I pulled it out of my pocket and saw Penelope’s name flash across the screen.
I stepped into the storage room so I wouldn’t be in the way of customers.
"Hello?"
I answered, trying to keep my voice low.
"Hey, baby," she said, her voice cold and rehearsed.
"Hey, what’s up?"
I asked, wondering why she was calling me at work.
"I just wanted to talk to you about us," she said, her voice sounding distant.
"Okay," I replied, feeling a knot form in my stomach.
"I think we want different things in life," she said, her voice sounding like she was reading from a script.
"I don’t think we’re compatible anymore."
"What do you mean?"
I asked, feeling confused.
"I mean, I want more than what you can give me," she said, her voice sounding cold and uncaring.
"I want someone who can provide for me, someone who can give me the life I deserve."
"I thought we were happy together," I said, feeling a lump form in my throat. "We were," she said, her voice sounding distant.
"But things have changed. I’ve met someone else."
"Who?"
I asked, feeling a wave of anger wash over me.
"His name is Richard," she said, her voice sounding smug.
"He drives a Mercedes and owns a beach house."
"So what? You’re going to leave me for some rich guy?"
I asked, feeling my anger boil over.
"Yes," she said, her voice sounding cold and uncaring.
"I deserve better than what you can give me."
"You’re really going to leave me for some rich guy?"
I asked again, feeling my anger boil over.
"Yes," she said again, her voice sounding smug.
"Well then go ahead and leave," I said, feeling tears well up in my eyes.
"I don’t need you anyway."
"Oh, I already have," she said, her voice sounding cold and uncaring.
"I moved all of my things out of our apartment yesterday."
"You what?"
I asked, feeling shocked and hurt. "I moved all of my things out of our apartment yesterday," she repeated, her voice sounding smug.
"I don’t need you anymore. Goodbye."
And with that, she hung up the phone without even giving me a chance to respond.
After the call, I went back to work, my mind numb.
I finished my shift, barely registering the customers or the tasks I was performing.
When I got home, the apartment was half-empty, with only my belongings left behind.
I found a formal-looking envelope mixed in with the junk mail on the kitchen counter.
The return address was from a prestigious law firm downtown.
I opened it and found a letter inside.
It stated that my grandfather, whom I had never met, had passed away and left me his entire estate.
The letter requested that I attend the reading of his will next week at their office.
I stood there, staring at the letter in disbelief when my phone buzzed again.
"Hello?" I answered, still reeling from the news.
"It's Mr. Thompson from the law firm," a deep voice said. "I wanted to ensure you received our letter and confirm your attendance at the will reading."
"Yes, I just got it," I replied, still in shock.
"Excellent," he said.
"I look forward to seeing you next week."
He hung up before I could ask any questions.
I sat at my kitchen table, re-reading the letter multiple times.
The firm's letterhead and official stamps looked legitimate, but a part of me suspected it was some kind of elaborate scam.
I pulled out my laptop and searched for information about Thompson & Associates Law Firm.
Their website appeared professional, with a long history of handling high-profile estate cases.
I found a few articles about them in reputable legal journals, which further solidified their credibility.
My hands shook as I typed my grandfather's name into the search bar, hoping to find some information about him.
Several obituary notices popped up from recent days, confirming his passing.
I carefully placed the letter in a folder and set three alarms on my phone for the will reading, determined not to mess this up.
I walked into the law firm's glass-walled conference room.
Mr. Thompson was already seated at the end of the long mahogany table, surrounded by stacks of documents.
He stood up as I entered, extending his hand for a firm handshake.
"Thank you for coming," he said, gesturing for me to take a seat across from him.
I sat down, feeling out of place in my secondhand clothes amidst the opulent surroundings.
The table gleamed under the soft lighting, and the soundproof walls made it feel like we were in our own world.
Thompson slid the first folder across the table to me.
"This is a summary of your grandfather's holdings," he explained, his voice calm and professional.
I opened it and began flipping through the pages, my eyes widening with each turn.
There were private islands in the Caribbean, a fleet of mega yachts docked in various ports around the world, and penthouses in major cities from New York to Tokyo.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"How much is all this worth?"
I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Thompson leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together.
"The total value of your grandfather's estate is approximately $100 googol," he replied matter-of-factly. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut.
$100 quintillion?
It was an unfathomable amount of money.
I had never even seen that many zeros in my life.
Thompson noticed my shock and gave me a sympathetic smile.
"It's a lot to take in," he said gently.
"But rest assured, you are now one of the wealthiest individuals on the planet."
He slid another folder across the table to me.
"This contains information about your grandfather's business interests and investments," he explained.
"You'll also find details about his personal assets, including real estate holdings and art collections."
I opened the folder and began scanning through it, my mind racing with questions and doubts.
How could this be real?
Why would my grandfather leave everything to me when we'd never even met?
And what was I supposed to do with all this wealth?
Thompson seemed to sense my confusion and leaned forward in his chair.
"I know this is a lot to process," he said softly.
"But I assure you, everything is legitimate. Your grandfather was a shrewd businessman who built his empire from scratch. He left specific instructions for how he wanted his estate to be handled after his passing."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
I lean back in the leather chair, forcing myself to concentrate as Thompson pulls out more documents.
He explains that the transition process will take some time, but I'll need to sign a few papers today to start accessing the accounts and properties.
My mind keeps drifting back to Penelope's cruel words, but I push those thoughts away and focus on the task at hand.
Thompson tells me that there's a private jet waiting at the airport to fly me to the main estate.
I nod, trying to absorb everything he's saying.
He hands me a sleek black credit card, explaining that it's linked to a preliminary account for any immediate expenses.
My hands shake slightly as I take it from him, but I manage to keep my composure.
"Is there anything else you need me to sign right now?"
I ask Thompson.
He smiles kindly at me and slides over a stack of papers.
"These are the initial transfer forms," he explains.
"If you could just sign where indicated, we can get started on the process."
I pick up the pen, hesitating for a moment before signing the first page.
"Why did he choose me?" I ask, my voice barely steady.
Thompson looks at me thoughtfully, then replies, "Your grandfather believed you had the potential to carry on his legacy, even if you never met him."
My signature flows across the final pages as Thompson slides document after document toward me.
The weight of the fountain pen feels foreign in my work-calloused hand.
Through the law firm's window, I catch a glimpse of the private jet waiting on the nearby airstrip, its polished hull glinting in the sunlight.
Thompson explains the last few technicalities - access codes, security protocols, estate management teams.
I'm barely listening, focused instead on the black credit card that now feels hot in my pocket.
When I finish the last signature, Thompson stands and extends his hand.
"Congratulations, Mr. Weber. Your grandfather's empire is now officially yours."
Standing outside the law firm, I pull out my phone with shaking hands.
I need to tell someone about this insane turn of events.
Opening my group chat with Jeremy, Landon, and Lance, I type out a simple message: "Need to talk. Life just changed. Getting on private jet now."
I attach a quick photo of the sleek aircraft waiting on the tarmac.
Their responses flood in immediately - confusion, disbelief, demands for explanation.
But Thompson is already ushering me toward the jet's stairs.
As I board the jet, my phone buzzes with an incoming call from Jeremy.
"Man, what the hell is going on?" he demands, his voice a mix of excitement and concern.
I take a deep breath before answering, "You won't believe it, but apparently I'm now one of the richest people in the world."
Jeremy's voice crackles through the phone, "This is insane, but you deserve it after everything. I mean, you're basically a billionaire now, right?"
I sink into the leather seat as the jet's engines hum to life.
Through the window, I watch ground crew scurrying around the aircraft.
It's surreal - just last night, I was working at the gas station, and now I'm on a private jet.
"Tell me everything," Jeremy presses.
I take a deep breath and recount my meeting with Thompson.
The pilot emerges from the cockpit, crisp in his uniform.
He introduces himself as Captain James and offers a warm smile.
"Your grandfather instructed me to give you this once airborne, sir."
He hands me a cream-colored envelope embossed with a golden crest.
Curiosity piqued, I open it and pull out a stack of documents and photographs.
The first photo shows a sprawling mansion overlooking crystal-clear waters.
I turn it over, reading the caption: "Island of Serenity - Your Private Tropical Paradise."
I stare at the photo, realizing that my life has just become a story I never imagined living.
I stare at my phone, thumb hovering over the send button before finally pressing it.
The message feels woefully inadequate considering everything that's happened.
Captain James's voice crackles through the intercom, announcing our departure clearance.
As I buckle my seatbelt in the plush leather seat, Thompson hands me a tablet.
"This contains security briefings and information about your new estate," he explains.
The jet engines roar to life, propelling us down the runway.
Through the window, I watch as the city shrinks beneath us - the same city where just hours ago I stocked shelves and lost Penelope.
My phone buzzes with excited replies from Jeremy and the others, but I set it aside for now.
Jeremy's voice comes through the phone again, insistent and curious, "Wait, did you just say 'lost Penelope'? What happened with her?"
I hesitate, staring out at the clouds as they drift by, "She left last night. Said she couldn't handle my 'lack of ambition' anymore."
Jeremy lets out a low whistle, "Man, if only she could see you now."
While scrolling through the photos on the tablet, one catches my eye - a beachfront mansion that looks uncannily like the place Penelope always talked about.
She'd gushed about it being her dream vacation spot in the Maldives.
Captain James's voice interrupts my thoughts, "Would you like to visit that estate first, sir?"
My finger hovers over the image on the screen as memories of Penelope flood back.
She'd always dreamed of living in a place like that with someone wealthy enough to provide that lifestyle for her.
I close the photo gallery with a sharp tap and look up at Captain James, "Actually, set course for the Caribbean estate instead."
I lean back in the seat as Captain James adjusts our course.
The tablet screen flickers, displaying an aerial view of the estate.
It's a sprawling compound nestled between pristine beaches and lush mountains.
Thompson explains that the property includes a 40,000-square-foot main house, multiple guest villas, a private harbor, and even its own airstrip.
I ask about the staff, and he pulls up profiles of the 50-person household team already in place.
My hands still shake slightly as I swipe through photos of marble fountains and infinity pools.
Just yesterday, I was restocking shelves at the gas station.
Jeremy's voice crackles through the phone again, breaking my reverie, "So, are you going to tell Penelope about all this?"
I hesitate, feeling a mix of emotions churn inside me, "I don't know if it matters anymore. She made her choice, and maybe it's time I make mine."
Jeremy chuckles softly, "Well, whatever you decide, just remember that sometimes the best revenge is living well."
I instruct Captain James to make a detour, deciding to visit my grandfather's New York penthouse first.
While examining the property listings on the tablet, I notice that the building is just two blocks from Richard's beach house, where Penelope moved in with him.
The thought of her seeing my private jet land nearby makes me pause.
I pull up the penthouse details - a $50 million property with a rooftop helipad overlooking Central Park.
My hands steady as I input the new coordinates into the cabin's communication system.
Jeremy's voice comes through again, curious and teasing, "You planning on making a grand entrance or something?"
I smirk, unable to help myself, "Maybe just a little reminder of what she walked away from."
Jeremy laughs, the sound crackling through the line, "Now that's the spirit! Show her what ambition really looks like."
While flying toward New York, I pull up a group chat with Jeremy, Landon, and Lance.
My fingers hover over the phone screen, thinking about how they stood by me through my poorest days.
The spacious penthouse photos on the tablet show more than enough room for all of us.
"Do y'all want to come with me, we can move in together if y'all want," I type, remembering our shared dreams of escaping our dead-end jobs.
Their responses come quickly - excited messages and questions about logistics.
I direct Captain James to make a detour, telling him we need to pick up my friends before heading to New York.
Jeremy's voice comes through the phone, full of excitement, "Are you serious? You're really doing this?"
I nod, even though he can't see me, feeling a newfound determination, "Yeah, it's time we all got a taste of the good life."
Landon chimes in with disbelief and joy, "Man, I can't believe it! This is going to change everything for us."
While flying toward New York, I pull up real estate listings on my tablet.
My fingers swipe through photos of luxury villas with ocean views and private beaches.
Jeremy, Landon, and Lance remain on speakerphone, their excited chatter filling the jet's cabin.
I zoom in on a $30 million Mediterranean-style compound in the Hamptons with four separate wings - perfect for giving each of us our own space while staying connected.
Captain James notices my interest and mentions he can arrange an immediate viewing.
I lean forward in my leather seat, pulling up the villa listing on the cabin's main screen.
The $30 million Mediterranean estate fills the display - its white stone facade and red-tiled roofs stretching across manicured grounds.
Through the intercom, Captain James confirms our new flight path and estimates a 45-minute flight time.
He also coordinates with ground transport to meet us at the nearest airport.
My friends continue their excited chatter on speakerphone as I study the property's floor plan, mentally assigning wings to each of them.
The thought of transforming this empty mansion into a home for the people who supported me feels right.
While studying the details on my tablet, I pull up a notepad app and start typing questions.
How many security guards will be needed?
What is the staff requirement for this property?
Can the garage be expanded to accommodate our cars?
I finish typing and save the document, knowing these questions are crucial to making this place our sanctuary.
Captain James patches through a call from the listing agent, who sounds eager to show us around.
"Hello, Mr. Weber," she says, her voice bubbly over the intercom.
"Welcome to your new home."
I glance at the screen, where my friends have fallen silent, listening in on the call.
"Thank you," I respond, my eyes still on the floor plan.
"I'm looking forward to seeing it in person."
The agent launches into a description of the villa's private beach access and helipad.
I mute the call, letting the anticipation settle in as I realize we're not just buying a house; we're building a future.
I check my watch as Captain James begins descent procedures into New York.
Through the jet's window, I spot Jeremy, Landon, and Lance waiting on the private airstrip, their beat-up cars looking out of place among the luxury aircraft.
They wave excitedly as we touch down.
While the crew prepares the stairs, I gather the Mediterranean villa documents and my new black credit card.
I plan to surprise them with the property details in person.
My hands shake slightly as I stand, still adjusting to my transformation from a gas station worker to their wealthy benefactor.
I step off the private jet into the bright sunlight, watching their faces shift from excitement to shock as they take in the gleaming aircraft behind me.
Walking across the tarmac, I pull out the tablet showing the villa photos.
The ocean views and sprawling wings fill the screen as I hand it to Jeremy first.
Landon and Lance crowd around him, their eyes widening at each swipe.
My heart pounds as I wait for their reaction, remembering all the times we shared cheap takeout in my cramped apartment.
Finally, I clear my throat and gesture at the property details.
"We could all live there," I say, my voice steady despite the nerves.
"Start fresh."
They look at me, then back at the tablet screen, the jet engines winding down behind us.
Landon breaks the silence.
"Are you serious?"
I nod, glancing at their worn clothes and tired faces—so similar to mine just days ago.
Without a word, I pull up the villa's purchase agreement on my tablet.
The price tag reads $30 million.
I take a deep breath and tap the "Accept Offer" button.
The confirmation email arrives instantly.
Captain James approaches us, his voice carrying over the hum of the jet.
"Congratulations, Mr. Weber," he says, a hint of admiration in his tone.
Jeremy looks up from the tablet, disbelief etched across his face.
"Did you really just buy us a mansion?"
I direct Captain James to fly us to the villa while my friends sit stunned in the jet's leather seats.
Jeremy keeps asking if this is real as we take off, while Lance stares silently out the window.
Landon examines every detail of the property photos on my tablet.
The flight attendant serves champagne, but my friends hesitate to touch the crystal glasses.
When the villa appears below us, massive and gleaming white against the coastline, they press against the windows.
I watch their faces as we descend, remembering how we once shared a cramped studio apartment.
I pause at the villa's massive double doors, my hand hovering over the ornate brass handle.
Behind me, Jeremy, Landon, and Lance shuffle nervously on the marble steps, still in their work uniforms from the jobs they just quit.
The estate agent rushes forward with the keys, but I wave her off - these are my doors now.
I push them open, revealing a soaring foyer with a crystal chandelier and sweeping staircase.
Ocean views flood through floor-to-ceiling windows.
My friends gasp, frozen in place.
Jeremy breaks the silence, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief.
"How did you pull this off, man? We were just scraping by last week."
I smile, feeling the weight of the secret I've been carrying finally lift.
I guide them through the marble hallways, past a formal dining room and gourmet kitchen, to a sunlit living room with panoramic ocean views.
The estate agent quietly arranges champagne flutes on a glass coffee table while we sink into plush leather sofas.
Jeremy runs his calloused hands over the expensive upholstery, still in his grease-stained mechanic's uniform.
Lance and Landon exchange bewildered glances as I reach for the bottle of Dom Pérignon chilling in an ice bucket.
My hands shake slightly as I pop the cork, the sound echoing through our new home.
I lead them through sliding glass doors onto the expansive pool deck.
Infinity waters seem to merge with the ocean horizon as the late afternoon sun glints off Italian marble.
We pass the Olympic-sized pool, its crystal surface reflecting the sky above, and move down stone steps to our private strip of white sand beach.
I point out key features: the theater entrance tucked beneath tropical landscaping, the helipad pad disguised on an upper terrace, a traditional wooden dojo nestled in a quiet corner.
As we circle back around to the twelve-car garage with its gleaming floors, Landon stops walking.
His voice cracks with emotion as he asks if this is really our home now.
Standing in the gleaming garage of our Mediterranean villa, I place a hand on Landon's shoulder and confirm this is our new reality.
The others gather closer as I pull out the deed from my jacket, showing them our names listed as residents.
I walk them through each wing, pointing out their personal suites and dedicated spaces.
At the main terrace overlooking the ocean, I hand each friend a key card, watching their expressions shift from disbelief to joy.
Jeremy tries his card on his suite's door, the lock clicking open with a soft beep.
Jeremy turns to me, eyes wide with realization.
"You didn't just buy this place, did you? There's something more going on here."
I nod slowly, taking a deep breath.
"I did, Jeremy. This is our new home now. And it's all thanks to a lot of hard work and a bit of luck."
I sit in my private study within our Mediterranean villa, the late afternoon sunlight casting a warm glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The sound of waves gently lapping at the shore drifts through the open doors, creating a soothing melody.
On my desk, my laptop lies closed, but I hold my phone in my hand, scrolling through old photos of Penelope that I saved before she left me for Richard.
The memory of her laughter, her bright smile, and her sparkling eyes fills me with a mix of nostalgia and longing.
Through the window, I see Jeremy, Landon, and Lance exploring the beach below, their excited voices carrying on the breeze as they discover the hidden cove and secret passageway to the ocean.
A sense of contentment washes over me as I watch them enjoying their newfound paradise.
My gaze returns to my phone screen, where Penelope's contact information remains saved from our past life together.
I saved it before she left me for Richard.
I hover my finger over the call button, contemplating if I should reach out to her after all this time. In my pocket, the black credit card given by Richard feels heavy against my leg—a constant reminder of his wealth and influence.
I could use it to call her right now and reconnect with the past.
But then I think about how she left me for him—how she chose his wealth and status over our love.
Anger flares within me, and I decide against calling her.
Instead, I open my laptop and start searching online for any information about Richard's beach house location.
Perhaps there's a way to orchestrate a "chance" encounter between us—a way to show Penelope exactly what she gave up when she chose him over me.
As I search through various websites and forums, I finally come across a real estate listing that matches Richard's description.
Excitement courses through me as I save the address into my phone's GPS.
I close the laptop, determination hardening my resolve as I step out to join my friends, leaving the past behind.
I lead Jeremy, Landon, and Lance down the winding stone path that descends to our private cove.
As we round the final bend, their faces light up with wonder at the sight of the pristine beach below.
The estate staff has already set up tiki torches along the shore, a bonfire pit in the center, and floating lanterns in the water.
A champagne bar and gourmet buffet wait under white canopies.
When we reach the sand, I gesture to four custom surfboards, each bearing their names, arranged beside luxury beach loungers.
The guys freeze in place, overwhelmed by the elaborate setup.
I grab a bottle of Dom Pérignon and four glasses from the bar, determined to celebrate our new life properly.
As the sun dips below the horizon, I raise my glass and toast to new beginnings, knowing that this is just the start of something extraordinary.
I lead my friends toward the illuminated infinity pool, its blue lights glowing against the dark ocean backdrop.
The beach staff discreetly sets up floating candles and champagne buckets while we change into designer swimwear I had delivered earlier.
Jeremy hesitates at the pool's edge, still wearing his work watch, before I encourage him to leave it with the attendant.
Lance and Landon already wade into the heated water, letting out excited whoops that echo across the terrace.
I step down into the warm pool, feeling the contrast between the cool night air and the water against my skin.
I float on my back, gazing up at the star-filled sky while Lance and Landon splash around me.
The heated water soothes my muscles as I relax into its embrace.
Suddenly, Lance swims closer, his voice carrying over the sound of the pool's waterfalls.
"Hey, you okay, man?"
Without warning, I flip underwater and surge toward him with all my strength.
Emerging with a powerful splash, I catch him completely off guard.
Water cascades down his startled face as he sputters and laughs.
Jeremy and Landon join in, creating waves that slosh over the edge of the infinity pool.
Our voices echo across the dark water, mingling with the sound of breaking waves below.
It feels surreal after years of struggling to finally have this kind of freedom and luxury.
Lance wipes the water from his eyes, grinning.
"Seriously though, what's going on? You've been acting different since we got here."
I pause, treading water as I consider how much to reveal.
I float at the edge of the pool, watching my friends' faces illuminated by the underwater lights.
Their playful splashing stops as I grip the marble edge.
The weight of my secret feels heavy, knowing I need to explain how I went from stocking shelves to buying them a mansion.
Lance swims closer, waiting for my response.
I climb out and grab a towel, motioning for them to follow me to the nearby fire pit.
As the flames crackle and dance, I finally speak, ready to share the truth that will change everything.
I sit down at the fire pit, the warm glow of the flames casting shadows on my friends' faces.
Reaching into my bag, I remove the thick folder of inheritance papers from Thompson & Associates.
The leather portfolio feels heavy in my hands as I spread the documents across the teak table.
My friends lean forward, their wet hair dripping onto the pages showing astronomical figures, property deeds, and a photo of my grandfather.
Jeremy picks up the letter announcing my $100 googol inheritance, his hands shaking as he reads it.
I gather the papers and pull out a smaller leather portfolio.
It's filled with photos and documents detailing my grandfather's global holdings.
"Where do I even start?" my voice cracks as I begin.
"My grandfather, he wasn't just any billionaire. He was one of the richest men in the world."
I start with his first investment, a small mining company extracting rare metals used in advanced technology.
"He saw potential in emerging tech and invested heavily. Within a year, he had a 50% stake in the company."
I show them photos of his early real estate ventures, buying up properties in prime locations worldwide.
"He expanded into real estate, purchasing entire city blocks and developing them into luxury complexes."
My friends listen intently as I explain how he diversified his portfolio, investing in everything from private islands to cutting-edge startups.
"He never sought to draw attention to himself," I continue, my voice growing steadier.
"He preferred to remain behind the scenes, letting his companies speak for themselves."
I pause, pulling out a stack of photographs showing my grandfather's anonymous philanthropic efforts.
"Throughout my childhood, he would send me on secret missions to deliver gifts and donations to those in need."
I show them pictures of me as a boy, standing next to children in hospitals, schools, and disaster zones.
"My grandfather believed that true wealth wasn't measured by dollars and cents but by the positive impact one could have on the world." The fire crackles as I finish speaking, the only sound breaking the silence between us.
Jeremy drops his champagne glass, the crystal shattering on the deck as he stares at me in disbelief.
I glance down at the papers scattered before us, tracing the outline of my grandfather's empire with my finger.
"It's all mine now," I say softly, my voice barely audible over the sound of the wind rustling through the palm trees.
"The companies, properties, investments... everything."
The weight of responsibility settles upon me like a mantle as I look at my friends.
Their eyes are wide with wonder and confusion.
Lance reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder.
"We're here for you, man," he says firmly.
"We'll help you navigate this new world."
I nod, feeling the warmth of their support as the enormity of my new reality sinks in.
I grip the leather portfolio tighter, my grandfather's legacy suddenly feeling heavier than before.
The fire pit's flames blur as tears start rolling down my cheeks, surprising me with their suddenness.
Lance keeps his hand firmly on my shoulder while Jeremy and Landon move closer on either side.
"I need to hear that," I manage to say, my voice cracking.
The enormity of my inheritance hits me fully - not just the wealth, but the responsibility.
While sitting at the fire pit processing my emotions, a vibrant blue-and-gold macaw swoops down from the villa's upper terrace, landing heavily on my shoulder.
My friends jump back in surprise as the bird adjusts its footing.
Before I can react, it opens its beak and speaks in a crisp British accent, "Master Shane, I've been waiting to meet you."
I freeze, recognizing the formal speaking pattern from my grandfather's letters.
The parrot continues, "I am Augustus, your grandfather's most trusted confidant."
My hands shake as I carefully turn to face the bird.