Share
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?
Create my version of this story
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 had been in foster care since I was ten years old.
When I turned seventeen, my adoptive parents kicked me out because they couldn't afford to keep me anymore.
They said I was too old and it was time for me to be on my own.
It didn't matter that I was still in school and had nowhere to go.
It didn't matter that I had no money and couldn't afford to rent a place or buy food.
All that mattered to them was that they got rid of me so their lives became easier.
I had been living on the streets ever since then, doing odd jobs here and there to make some money.
Sometimes, I had to go hungry just to make sure I had enough money to buy some clothes or pay for my transportation when I needed to go somewhere far.
My life was hard, but I never gave up.
I always kept looking forward, hoping that someday my life would change for the better.
And now, it finally had.
I had been living in the United States for a long time, and all this while, I had been dreaming of going back home to Australia.
But now that I had the money, I wasn't sure if I still wanted to go back.
In my penthouse office, I spread the documents across the mahogany desk.
Each paper represented billions in assets.
The leather chair creaked as I leaned back, studying the portfolio my grandfather's lawyers had prepared for me.
My fingers traced over property deeds, stock certificates, and offshore account statements.
A notepad sat before me, where I had started listing names.
My adoptive parents.
Penelope.
Everyone who had cast me aside without a second thought.
Next to each name, I wrote down their weaknesses.
The parents' mounting debts.
Penelope's failing business ventures.
I spread the documents across my desk, methodically reviewing each page.
The numbers were staggering - 400 googol dollars in total assets.
My hands shook as I flipped through the pages, detailing private islands in the Pacific, a fleet of mega yachts docked in Monaco, and sprawling estates on five continents.
A blue Citibank card caught my eye, its platinum W gleaming under the office lights.
I picked it up, remembering how Penelope had mocked my worn debit card at dinner.
The memory stung, but now I held more wealth than she would see in a lifetime.
I leaned back in my leather chair, the weight of my newfound wealth pressing down on me.
The sun set over the city skyline, casting a golden glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I pulled out my phone, scrolling through old contacts.
Kevin and Marcus - the only two who had stuck by me during those dark days.
Kevin had shared his last bagel with me when I was starving.
Marcus had let me crash on his couch after the eviction notice.
My finger hovered over their numbers.
They deserved to know about my inheritance before the media circus began.
But doubt crept in.
I remembered how wealth had changed others, how it had corrupted them.
I grip my phone tightly, Kevin's contact photo staring back at me from the screen.
My thumb hovers over the call button as I rehearse how to tell him about the inheritance.
The setting sun casts long shadows across my office while I pace back and forth on the Italian marble floors.
I remember the night Kevin found me huddled in a doorway, shivering with cold and hunger.
He shared his meager dinner with me, a bagel and a can of soda.
The phone feels heavy in my hand as I finally press "call."
Each ring echoes in my chest.
When Kevin's familiar "Hello?" comes through the speaker, my carefully planned words stick in my throat.
"Hey, Kevin, it's me," I manage to say, my voice trembling slightly.
"Hey, man! It's been ages. What's up?" Kevin replies, his tone warm and welcoming.
"I... I need to tell you something big," I stammer, the enormity of the moment finally sinking in.
My voice cracks as I force out those words, gripping the phone tighter while staring at the Sydney Harbour Bridge through my office window.
Kevin goes silent for several seconds, and I hear only his slow breathing.
I sink into my leather chair, waiting for his response, remembering how he'd split that stale bagel with him behind the shelter.
"How much are we talking?" he finally asks, his tone careful and measured.
I swallow hard before answering, "Billions. Actually, more than that."
Kevin's breath catches, and in that pause, I realize everything is about to change.
I grip the phone tighter as Kevin's laughter echoes through the line, the sound jarring against my raw nerves.
"Good one, mate," he chuckles between laughs.
"Next you'll tell me you bought the Opera House."
I stand and walk to my floor-to-ceiling window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass.
Below, my newly acquired yacht bobs in the harbor - stark evidence of my changed reality.
I try to interject, to make him understand, but he launches into a story about his latest construction job.
I pace back and forth in my office, rehearsing how to prove my wealth to him.
I open the safe hidden behind a painting and pull out bank statements and property deeds.
My hands shake as I arrange them neatly on my desk.
I text him the address of my penthouse office, adding that security will escort him up.
Through the window, I watch my yacht bobbing in the harbor, remembering how Kevin let me shower at his place when I lived in my car.
The yacht's name, "Second Chance," gleams in the afternoon sun.
Kevin's voice breaks through my thoughts, "Wait, are you serious about this?"
I take a deep breath, steadying myself, "Yes, Kevin. I want you to come see for yourself."
There's a pause before he responds, his voice softer now, "Alright, I'll be there. Just tell me when."
After ending the call, I sink heavily into my leather chair and pull up Marcus's contact on my phone.
My thumb hovers over his name as memories flood back - the lumpy couch he offered when I had nowhere else to go, the leftover construction site meals he'd bring me.
Outside my window, the yacht's reflection ripples in the harbor, a stark reminder of how far I've come.
I type and delete several messages before settling on a simple one: "Can we meet? Important news."
As I wait for his response, I gather more documents from the safe, knowing I'll need concrete proof for both my friends.
I press send, knowing this time, I won't be the one asking for a favor.
I stand frozen at my mahogany desk as Kevin steps into my penthouse office, his work boots leaving dirt marks on the marble floor.
His eyes dart from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Sydney Harbour to the modern art on the walls, then to the stacks of financial documents spread across my desk.
The silence grows heavy as he takes in my tailored suit and platinum watch.
When his gaze finally meets mine, I see a mix of confusion and disbelief that makes my stomach clench.
His hands, still dirty from the construction site, form tight fists at his sides.
I motion toward the Italian leather chair across from my desk, but he remains frozen by the door, his boots rooted to the marble.
The silence stretches on until I clear my throat and pull out the inheritance documents from my grandfather.
"I know this is a lot to take in," I begin, my voice strained.
"But I wanted to show you myself. My grandfather left me everything - billions of dollars, properties around the world, businesses."
Kevin's eyes widen as they dart between the papers and my Rolex.
Sweat dampens my collar as I continue, "He was a wealthy man, Kevin. He left me everything in his will."
I pause, watching as Kevin's shoulders tense and his jaw clenches.
I can see the skepticism in his eyes, and it makes my heart ache.
I've let him down before, and now I'm asking him to trust me again.
I take a deep breath and push on, "I know this is hard to believe, but I promise you, it's true. My grandfather left me everything."
Kevin's expression hardens as he looks away from me.
His calloused hands clench into fists at his sides.
I hold my breath as he slowly crosses the room, his boots scuffing against the floor.
He stops at my desk, his gaze fixed on the papers scattered across the polished surface.
He picks up the first document, his calloused fingers tracing the lines of text.
I watch as he squints at the numbers and words, his brow furrowed in concentration.
The setting sun casts long shadows across the pages, illuminating the astronomical figures and property listings.
As he flips through the documents methodically, his expression remains unreadable.
When he reaches the bank statements showing billions in transfers, his hands begin to shake slightly.
He sets the papers down carefully, then looks up at me with a mix of awe and uncertainty in his eyes.
I lean back against the edge of my desk, studying his weathered face as he processes the magnitude of my wealth.
The question hangs in the air between us, and I can feel the weight of our shared past bearing down on me.
My fingers absently trace the edge of a property deed as I consider how to answer.
Part of me wants to blurt out that I'll give him all the money he needs, to repay him for that bagel so many years ago.
But something holds me back.
Instead, I walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and gesture at the yacht bobbing in the harbour below.
"First," I say carefully, "I need your help planning something. There are people who need to understand how things have changed."
I explain my plan to Kevin, telling him how I'll buy out the mortgage on my adoptive parents' house and foreclose on them.
How I'll use shell companies to acquire Penelope's failing businesses, one by one, and then systematically dismantle them.
As I speak, Kevin's face grows increasingly uncomfortable.
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes darting around the room.
When I'm finished, I turn back to him and offer him a job - a well-paying job - as my right-hand man in all of this.
But Kevin doesn't respond.
Instead, he stands up abruptly, his work boots scuffing against the marble floor.
He looks at me with a mixture of sadness and anger in his eyes.
"Money really has changed you," he says quietly.
"You sound just like them now." I try to protest, but Kevin cuts me off.
"No," he says firmly.
"I don't want any part of this. You're not the person I thought you were."
"Kevin, wait," I plead, stepping toward him as he turns to leave.
He pauses, his back still to me, and says, "I thought you wanted to make things right, not destroy more lives."
I swallow hard, realizing the truth in his words.
